THE MALAY ARCHIPELAGO VOLUME II. (of II. ) by Alfred R. Wallace CHAPTER XXI. THE MOLUCCAS--TERNATE. ON the morning of the 8th of January, 1858, I arrived at Ternate, thefourth of a row of fine conical volcanic islands which shirt the westcoast of the large and almost unknown island of Gilolo. The largestand most perfectly conical mountain is Tidore, which is over fourthousand Feet high--Ternate being very nearly the same height, but witha more rounded and irregular summit. The town of Ternate is concealedfrom view till we enter between the two islands, when it is discoveredstretching along the shore at the very base of the mountain. Itssituation is fine, and there are grand views on every side. Closeopposite is the rugged promontory and beautiful volcanic cone of Tidore;to the east is the long mountainous coast of Gilolo, terminated towardsthe north by a group of three lofty volcanic peaks, while immediatelybehind the town rises the huge mountain, sloping easily at first andcovered with thick groves of fruit trees, but soon becoming steeper, and furrowed with deep gullies. Almost to the summit, whence issueperpetually faint wreaths of smoke, it is clothed with vegetation, and looks calm and beautiful, although beneath are hidden fires whichoccasionally burst forth in lava-streams, but more frequently make theirexistence known by the earthquakes which have many times devastated thetown. I brought letters of introduction to Mr. Duivenboden, a native ofTernate, of an ancient Dutch family, but who was educated in England, and speaks our language perfectly. He was a very rich man, owned halfthe town, possessed many ships, and above a hundred slaves. Hewas moreover, well educated, and fond of literature and science--aphenomenon in these regions. He was generally known as the king ofTernate, from his large property and great influence with the nativeRajahs and their subjects. Through his assistance I obtained a house;rather ruinous, but well adapted to my purpose, being close to the town, yet with a free outlet to the country and the mountain. A few needfulrepairs were soon made, some bamboo furniture and other necessariesobtained, and after a visit to the Resident and Police Magistrate Ifound myself an inhabitant of the earthquake-tortured island of Ternate, and able to look about me and lay down the plan of my campaign for theensuing year. I retained this house for three years, as I found it veryconvenient to have a place to return to after my voyages to thevarious islands of the Moluccas and New Guinea, where I could packmy collections, recruit my health, and make preparations for futurejourneys. To avoid repetitions, I will in this chapter combine whatnotes I have about Ternate. A description of my house (the plan of which is here shown) willenable the reader to understand a very common mode of building in theseislands. There is of course only one floor. The walls are of stone up tothree feet high; on this are strong squared posts supporting the roof, everywhere except in the verandah filled in with the leaf-stems of thesago-palm, fitted neatly in wooden owing. The floor is of stucco, and the ceilings are like the walls. The house is forty feet square, consists of four rooms, a hall, and two verandahs, and is surroundedby a wilderness of fruit trees. A deep well supplied me with pure coldwater, a great luxury in this climate. Five minutes' walk down the roadbrought me to the market and the beach, while in the opposite directionthere were no more European houses between me and the mountain. In thishouse I spent many happy days. Returning to it after a three or fourmonths' absence in some uncivilized region, I enjoyed the unwontedluxuries of milk and fresh bread, and regular supplies of fish and eggs, meat and vegetables, which were often sorely needed to restore my healthand energy. I had ample space and convenience or unpacking, sorting, andarranging my treasures, and I had delightful walks in the suburbs of thetown, or up the lower slopes of the mountain, when I desired a littleexercise, or had time for collecting. The lower part of the mountain, behind the town of Ternate, is almostentirely covered with a forest of fruit trees, and during the seasonhundreds of men and women, boys and girls, go up every day to bring downthe ripe fruit. Durians and Mangoes, two of the very finest tropicalfruits, are in greater abundance at Ternate than I have ever seen them, and some of the latter are of a quality not inferior to any in theworld. Lansats and Mangustans are also abundant, but these do not ripentill a little later. Above the fruit trees there is a belt of clearingsand cultivated grounds, which creep up the mountain to a height ofbetween two and three thousand feet, above which is virgin forest, reaching nearly to the summit, which on the side next the town iscovered with a high reedy grass. On the further side it is moreelevated, of a bare and desolate aspect, with a slight depressionmarking the position of the crater. From this part descends a blackscoriaceous tract; very rugged, and covered with a scanty vegetation ofscattered bushes as far down as the sea. This is the lava of thegreat eruption near a century ago, and is called by the natives"batu-angas"(burnt rock). Just below my house is the fort, built by the Portuguese, below which isan open space to the peach, and beyond this the native town extends forabout a mile to the north-east. About the centre of it is the palaceof the Sultan, now a large untidy, half-ruinous building of stone. Thischief is pensioned by the Dutch Government, but retains the sovereigntyover the native population of the island, and of the northern part ofGilolo. The sultans of Ternate and Tidore were once celebrated throughthe East for their power and regal magnificence. When Drake visitedTernate in 1579, the Portuguese had been driven out of the island, although they still had a settlement at Tidore. He gives a glowingaccount of the Sultan: "The King had a very rich canopy with embossingsof gold borne over him, and was guarded with twelve lances. From thewaist to the ground was all cloth of gold, and that very rich; in theattire of his head were finely wreathed in, diverse rings of plaitedgold, of an inch or more in breadth, which made a fair and princelyshow, somewhat resembling a crown in form; about his neck he had a chainof perfect gold, the links very great and one fold double; on his lefthand was a diamond, an emerald, a ruby, and a turky; on his right handin one ring a big and perfect turky, and in another ring many diamondsof a smaller size. " All this glitter of barbaric gold was the produce of the spice trade, ofwhich the Sultans kept the monopoly, and by which they became wealthy. Ternate, with the small islands in a line south of it, as far asBatchian, constitute the ancient Moluccas, the native country of theclove, as well as the only part in which it was cultivated. Nutmegsand mace were procured from the natives of New Guinea and the adjacentislands, where they grew wild; and the profits on spice cargoes were soenormous, that the European traders were glad to give gold and jewels, and the finest manufactures of Europe or of India, in exchange. When theDutch established their influence in these seas, and relieved the nativeprinces from their Portuguese oppressors, they saw that the easiestway to repay themselves would be to get this spice trade into their ownhands. For this purpose they adopted the wise principle of concentratingthe culture of these valuable products in those spots only of which theycould have complete control. To do this effectually it was necessary toabolish the culture and trade in all other places, which they succeededin doing by treaty with the native rulers. These agreed to have all thespice trees in their possessions destroyed. They gave up large thoughfluctuating revenues, but they gained in return a fixed subsidy, freedomfrom the constant attacks and harsh oppressions of the Portuguese, and acontinuance of their regal power and exclusive authority over their ownsubjects, which is maintained in all the islands except Ternate to thisday. It is no doubt supposed by most Englishmen, who have been accustomed tolook upon this act of the Dutch with vague horror, as somethingutterly unprincipled and barbarous, that the native population sufferedgrievously by this destruction of such valuable property. But it iscertain that this was not the case. The Sultans kept this lucrativetrade entirely in their own hands as a rigid monopoly, and they wouldtake care not to give, their subjects more than would amount to theirusual wages, while: they would surely exact as large a quantity of spiceas they could possibly obtain. Drake and other early voyagers alwaysseem to have purchased their spice-cargoes from the Sultans and Rajahs, and not from the cultivators. Now the absorption of so much labour inthe cultivation of this one product must necessarily have raised theprice of food and other necessaries; and when it was abolished, more rice would be grown, more sago made, more fish caught, and moretortoise-shell, rattan, gum-dammer, and other valuable products of theseas and the forests would be obtained. I believe, therefore, that thisabolition of the spice trade in the Moluccas was actually beneficial tothe inhabitants, and that it was an act both wise in itself and morallyand politically justifiable. In the selection of the places in which to carry on the cultivation, the Dutch were not altogether fortunate or wise. Banda was chosen fornutmegs, and was eminently successful, since it continues to this dayto produce a large supply of this spice, and to yield a considerablerevenue. Amboyna was fixed upon for establishing the clove cultivation;but the soil and climate, although apparently very similar to that ofits native islands, is not favourable, and for some years the Governmenthave actually been paying to the cultivators a higher rate than theycould purchase cloves elsewhere, owing to a great fall in the pricesince the rate of payment was fixed for a term of years by the DutchGovernment, and which rate is still most honourably paid. In walking about the suburbs of Ternate, we find everywhere the ruins ofmassive stone and brick buildings, gateways and arches, showing at oncethe superior wealth of the ancient town and the destructive effects ofearthquakes. It was during my second stay in the town, after my returnfrom New Guinea, that I first felt an earthquake. It was a very slightone, scarcely more than has been felt in this country, but occurring ina place that lad been many times destroyed by them it was rather moreexciting. I had just awoke at gun-fire (5 A. M. ), when suddenly thethatch began to rustle and shake as if an army of cats were gallopingover it, and immediately afterwards my bed shook too, so that for aninstant I imagined myself back in New Guinea, in my fragile house, whichshook when an old cock went to roost on the ridge; but remembering thatI was now on a solid earthen floor, I said to myself, "Why, it's anearthquake, " and lay still in the pleasing expectation of another shock;but none came, and this was the only earthquake I ever felt in Ternate. The last great one was in February 1840, when almost every house in theplace was destroyed. It began about midnight on the Chinese New Year'sfestival, at which time every one stays up nearly all night feastingat the Chinamen's houses and seeing the processions. This preventedany lives being lost, as every one ran out of doors at the first shock, which was not very severe. The second, a few minutes afterwards, threwdown a great many houses, and others, which continued all night and partof the next day, completed the devastation. The line of disturbancewas very narrow, so that the native town a mile to the east scarcelysuffered at all. The wave passed from north to south, through theislands of Tidore and Makian, and terminated in Batchian, where it wasnot felt till four the following afternoon, thus taking no less thansixteen hours to travel a hundred miles, or about six miles an hour. Itis singular that on this occasion there was no rushing up of the tide, or other commotion of the sea, as is usually the case during greatearthquakes. The people of Ternate are of three well-marked races the Ternate Malays, the Orang Sirani, and the Dutch. The first are an intrusive Malay racesomewhat allied to the Macassar people, who settled in the country at avery early epoch, drove out the indigenes, who were no doubt the sameas those of the adjacent mainland of Gilolo, and established a monarchy. They perhaps obtained many of their wives from the natives, which willaccount for the extraordinary language they speak--in some respectsclosely allied to that of the natives of Gilolo, while it containsmuch that points to a Malayan origin. To most of these people the Malaylanguage is quite unintelligible, although such as are engaged in tradeare obliged to acquire it. "Orang Sirani, " or Nazarenes, is the namegiven by the Malays to the Christian descendants of the Portuguese, whoresemble those of Amboyna, and, like them, speak only Malay. There arealso a number of Chinese merchants, many of them natives of the place, a few Arabs, and a number of half-breeds between all these races andnative women. Besides these there are some Papuan slaves, and a fewnatives of other islands settled here, making up a motley and verypuzzling population, till inquiry and observation have shown thedistinct origin of its component parts. Soon after my first arrival in Ternate I went to the island of Gilolo, accompanied by two sons of Mr. Duivenboden, and by a young Chinaman, abrother of my landlord, who lent us the boat and crew. These latterwere all slaves, mostly Papuans, and at starting I saw something of therelation of master and slave in this part of the world. The crew hadbeen ordered to be ready at three in the morning, instead of which noneappeared till five, we having all been kept waiting in the dark andcold for two hours. When at length they came they were scolded by theirmaster, but only in a bantering manner, and laughed and joked withhim in reply. Then, just as we were starting, one of the strongest menrefused to go at all, and his master had to beg and persuade him to go, and only succeeded by assuring him that I would give him something; sowith this promise, and knowing that there would be plenty to eat anddrink and little to do, the black gentleman was induced to favour uswith his company and assistance. In three hours' rowing and sailing wereached our destination, Sedingole, where there is a house belonging tothe Sultan of Tidore, who sometimes goes there hunting. It was a dirtyruinous shed, with no furniture but a few bamboo bedsteads. On takinga walk into the country, I saw at once that it was no place for me. For many miles extends a plain covered with coarse high grass, thicklydotted here and there with trees, the forest country only commencingat the hills a good way in the interior. Such a place would produce fewbirds and no insects, and we therefore arranged to stay only two days, and then go on to Dodinga, at the narrow central isthmus of Gilolo, whence my friends would return to Ternate. We amused ourselves shootingparrots, lories, and pigeons, and trying to shoot deer, of which we sawplenty, but could not get one; and our crew went out fishing with a net, so we did not want for provisions. When the time came for us to continueour journey, a fresh difficulty presented itself, for our gentlemenslaves refused in a body to go with us; saying very determinedly thatthey would return to Ternate. So their masters were obliged to submit, and I was left behind to get to Dodinga as I could. Luckily I succeededin hiring a small boat, which took me there the same night, with my twomen and my baggage. Two or three years after this, and about the same length of time beforeI left the East, the Dutch emancipated all their slaves, paying theirowners a small compensation. No ill results followed. Owing to theamicable relations which had always existed between them and theirmasters, due no doubt in part to the Government having long accordedthem legal rights and protection against cruelty and ill-usage, manycontinued in the same service, and after a little temporary difficultyin some cases, almost all returned to work either for their old or fornew, masters. The Government took the very proper step of placing everyemancipated slave under the surveillance of the police-magistrate. Theywere obliged to show that they were working for a living, and had somehonestly-acquired means of existence. All who could not do so wereplaced upon public works at low wages, and thus were kept from thetemptation to peculation or other crimes, which the excitement ofnewly-acquired freedom, and disinclination to labour, might have ledthem into. CHAPTER XXII. GILOLO. (MARCH AND SEPTEMBER 1858. ) I MADE but few and comparatively short visits to this large and littleknown island, but obtained a considerable knowledge of its naturalhistory by sending first my boy Ali, and then my assistant, CharlesAllen, who stayed two or three months each in the northern peninsula, and brought me back large collections of birds and insects. In thischapter I propose to give a sketch of the parts which I myself visited. My first stay was at Dodinga, situated at the head of a deep-bayexactly opposite Ternate, and a short distance up a little streamwhich penetrates a few miles inland. The village is a small one, and iscompletely shut in by low hills. As soon as I arrived, I applied to the head man of the village for ahouse to live in, but all were occupied, and there was much difficultyin finding one. In the meantime I unloaded my baggage on the beach andmade some tea, and afterwards discovered a small but which the owner waswilling to vacate if I would pay him five guilders for a month's rent. As this was something less than the fee-simple value of the dwelling, I agreed to give it him for the privilege of immediate occupation, onlystipulating that he was to make the roof water-tight. This he agreedto do, and came every day to tally and look at me; and when I each timeinsisted upon his immediately mending the roof according to contract, all the answer I could get was, "Ea nanti, " (Yes, wait a little. )However, when I threatened to deduct a quarter guilder from the rent forevery day it was not done, and a guilder extra if any of my things werewetted, he condescended to work for half an hour, which did all that wasabsolutely necessary. On the top of a bank, of about a hundred feet ascent from the water, stands the very small but substantial fort erected by the Portuguese. Its battlements and turrets have long since been overthrown byearthquakes, by which its massive structure has also been rent; but itcannot well be thrown down, being a solid mass of stonework, forminga platform about ten feet high, and perhaps forty feet square. It isapproached by narrow steps under an archway, and is now surmounted by arow of thatched hovels, in which live the small garrison, consisting of, a Dutch corporal and four Javanese soldiers, the sole representativesof the Netherlands Government in the island. The village is occupiedentirely by Ternate men. The true indigenes of Gilolo, "Alfuros" as theyare here called, live on the eastern coast, or in the interior of thenorthern peninsula. The distance across the isthmus at this place isonly two miles, and there, is a good path, along which rice and sagoare brought from the eastern villages. The whole isthmus is very rugged, though not high, being a succession of little abrupt hills anal valleys, with angular masses of limestone rock everywhere projecting, and oftenalmost blocking up the pathway. Most of it is virgin forest, veryluxuriant and picturesque, and at this time having abundance of largescarlet Ixoras in flower, which made it exceptionally gay. I got somevery nice insects here, though, owing to illness most of the time, mycollection was a small one, and my boy Ali shot me a pair of one of themost beautiful birds of the East, Pitta gigas, a lame ground-thrush, whose plumage of velvety black above is relieved by a breast of purewhite, shoulders of azure blue, and belly of vivid crimson. It has verylong and strong legs, and hops about with such activity in the densetangled forest, bristling with rocks, as to make it very difficult toshoot. In September 1858, after my return from New Guinea, I went to staysome time at the village of Djilolo, situated in a bay on the northernpeninsula. Here I obtained a house through the kindness of the Residentof Ternate, who sent orders to prepare one for me. The first walk intothe unexplored forests of a new locality is a moment of intense interestto the naturalist, as it is almost sure to furnish him with somethingcurious or hitherto unknown. The first thing I saw here was a flock ofsmall parroquets, of which I shot a pair, and was pleased to find a mostbeautiful little long-tailed bird, ornamented with green, red, andblue colours, and quite new to me. It was a variety of the Charmosynaplacentis, one of the smallest and most elegant of the brush-tonguedlories. My hunters soon shot me several other fine birds, and I myselffound a specimen of the rare and beautiful day-flying moth, Cocytiad'Urvillei. The village of Djilolo was formerly the chief residence of the Sultansof Ternate, till about eighty years ago, when at the request of theDutch they removed to their present abode. The place was then no doubtmuch more populous, as is indicated by the wide extent of clearedland in the neighbourhood, now covered with coarse high grass, verydisagreeable to walk through, and utterly barren to the naturalist. Afew days' exploring showed me that only some small patches of forestremained for miles wound, and the result was a scarcity of insects anda very limited variety of birds, which obliged me to change my locality. There was another village called Sahoe, to which there was a road ofabout twelve miles overland, and this had been recommended to me asa good place for birds, and as possessing a large population both ofMahomotans and Alfuros, which latter race I much wished to see. I setoff one morning to examine this place myself, expecting to passthrough some extent of forest on my way. In this however I was muchdisappointed, as the whole road lies through grass and scrubby thickets, and it was only after reaching the village of Sahoe that some highforest land was perceived stretching towards the mountains to the northof it. About half-way we dad to pass a deep river on a bamboo raft, which almost sunk beneath us. This stream was said to rise a long wayoff to the northward. Although Sahoe did not at all appear what I expected, I determined togive it a trial, and a few days afterwards obtained a boat to carrymy things by sea while I walked overland. A large house on the beachbelonging to the Sultan was given me. It stood alone, and was quiteopen on every side, so that little privacy could be had, but as I onlyintended to stay a short time I made it do. Avery, few days dispelledall hopes I might have entertained of making good collections in thisplace. Nothing was to be found in every direction but interminabletracts of reedy grass, eight or ten feet high, traversed by narrowbaths, often almost impassable. Here and there were clumps of fruittrees, patches of low wood, and abundance of plantations and ricegrounds, all of which are, in tropical regions, a very desert for theentomologist. The virgin forest that I was in search of, existed onlyon the summits and on the steep rocky sides of the mountains a long wayoff, and in inaccessible situations. In the suburbs of the village Ifound a fair number of bees and wasps, and some small but interestingbeetles. Two or three new birds were obtained by my hunters, and byincessant inquiries and promises I succeeded in getting the natives tobring me some land shells, among which was a very fine and handsomeone, Helix pyrostoma. I was, however, completely wasting my time herecompared with what I might be doing in a good locality, and after aweek returned to Ternate, quite disappointed with my first attempts atcollecting in Gilolo. In the country round about Sahoe, and in the interior, there is a largepopulation of indigenes, numbers of whom came daily into the village, bringing their produce for sale, while others were engaged as labourersby the Chinese and Ternate traders. A careful examination convinced methat these people are radically distinct from all the Malay races. Theirstature and their features, as well as their disposition and habits, are almost the same as those of the Papuans; their hair issemi-Papuan-neither straight, smooth, and glossy, like all true Malays', nor so frizzly and woolly as the perfect Papuan type, but always crisp, waved, and rough, such as often occurs among the true Papuans, but neveramong the Malays. Their colour alone is often exactly that of the Malay, or even lighter. Of course there has been intermixture, and there occuroccasionally individuals which it is difficult to classify; but in mostcases the large, somewhat aquiline nose, with elongated apex, the tallstature, the waved hair, the bearded face, and hairy body, as well asthe less reserved manner and louder voice, unmistakeably proclaim thePapuan type. Here then I had discovered the exact boundary lice betweenthe Malay and Papuan races, and at a spot where no other writer hadexpected it. I was very much pleased at this determination, as itgave me a clue to one of the most difficult problems in Ethnology, and enabled me in many other places to separate the two races, and tounravel their intermixtures. On my return from Waigiou in 1860, I stayed some days on the southernextremity of Gilolo; but, beyond seeing something more of its structureand general character, obtained very little additional information. It is only in the northern peninsula that there are any indígenes, thewhole of the rest of the island, with Batchian and the other islandswestward, being exclusively inhabited by Malay tribes, allied to thoseof Ternate and Tidore. This would seem to indicate that the Alfuros werea comparatively recent immigration, and that they lead come from thenorth or east, perhaps from some of the islands of the Pacific. It isotherwise difficult to understand how so many fertile districts shouldpossess no true indigenes. Gilolo, or Halmaheira as it is called by the Malays and Dutch, seemsto have been recently modified by upheaval and subsidence. In 1673, amountain is said to stave been upheaved at Gamokonora on the northernpeninsula. All the parts that I have seen have either been volcanicor coralline, and along the coast there are fringing coral reefs verydangerous to navigation. At the same time, the character of its naturalhistory proves it to be a rather ancient land, since it possesses anumber of animals peculiar to itself or common to the small islandsaround it, but almost always distinct from those of New Guinea on theeast, of Ceram on the south, and of Celebes and the Sula islands on thewest. The island of Morty, close to the north-eastern extremity of Gilolo, wasvisited by my assistant Charles Allen, as well as by Dr. Bernstein; andthe collections obtained there present some curious differences fromthose of the main island. About fifty-six species of land-birds areknown to inhabit this island, and of these, a kingfisher (TanysipteraBoris), a honey-sucker (Tropidorhynchus fuscicapillus), and a largecrow-like starling (Lycocorax morotensis), are quite distinct fromallied species found in Gilolo. The island is coralline and sandy, andwe must therefore believe it to have been separated from Gilolo at asomewhat remote epoch; while we learn from its natural history that anarm of the sea twenty-five miles wide serves to limit the range even ofbirds of considerable powers of flight. CHAPTER XXIII. TERNATE TO THE KAIOA ISLANDS AND BATCHIAN. (OCTOBER 1858. ) ON returning to Ternate from Sahoe, I at once began making preparationsfor a journey to Batchian, an island which I had been constantlyrecommended to visit since I had arrived in this part of the Moluccas. After all was ready I found that I should have to hire a boat, as noopportunity of obtaining a passage presented itself. I accordingly wentinto the native town, and could only find two boats for hire, one muchlarger than I required, and the other far smaller than I wished. I chosethe smaller one, chiefly because it would not cost me one-third as muchas the larger one, and also because in a coasting voyage a small vesselcan be more easily managed, and more readily got into a place of safetyduring violent gales, than a large one. I took with me my Bornean ladAli, who was now very useful to me; Lahagi, a native of Ternate, a verygood steady man, and a fair shooter, who had been with me to New Guinea;Lahi, a native of Gilolo, who could speak Malay, as woodcutter andgeneral assistant; and Garo, a boy who was to act as cook. As the boatwas so small that we had hardly room to stow ourselves away when all mystores were on board, I only took one other man named Latchi, as pilot. He was a Papuan slave, a tall, strong black fellow, but very civil andcareful. The boat I had hired from a Chinaman named Lau Keng Tong, forfive guilders a month. We started on the morning of October 9th, but had not got a hundredyards from land, when a strong head wind sprung up, against which wecould not row, so we crept along shore to below the town, and waitedtill the turn of the tide should enable us to cross over to the coast ofTidore. About three in the afternoon we got off, and found that our boatsailed well, and would keep pretty close to the wind. We got on a goodway before the wind fell and we had to take to our oars again. We landedon a nice sandy beach to cook our suppers, just as the sun set behindthe rugged volcanic hills, to the south of the great cone of Tidore, and soon after beheld the planet Venus shining in the twilight with thebrilliancy of a new moon, and casting a very distinct shadow. We leftagain a little before seven, and as we got out from the shadow of themountain I observed a bright light over one part of the edge, and soonafter, what seemed a fire of remarkable whiteness on the very summit ofthe hill. I called the attention of my men to it, and they too thoughtit merely a fire; but a few minutes afterwards, as we got farther offshore, the light rose clear up above the ridge of the hill, and somefaint clouds clearing away from it, discovered the magnificent cometwhich was at the same time, astonishing all Europe. The nucleuspresented to the naked eye a distinct disc of brilliant white light, from which the tail rose at an angle of about 30° or 35° with thehorizon, curving slightly downwards, and terminating in a broad brushof faint light, the curvature of which diminished till it was nearlystraight at the end. The portion of the tail next the comet appearedthree or four tunes as bright as the most luminous portion of the milkyway, and what struck me as a singular feature was that its upper margin, from the nucleus to very near the extremity, was clearly and almostsharply defined, while the lower side gradually shaded off intoobscurity. Directly it rose above the ridge of the hill, I said to mymen, "See, it's not a fire, it's a bintang ber-ekor" ("tailed-star, " theMalay idiom for a comet). "So it is, " said they; and all declared thatthey had often heard tell of such, but had never seen one till now. Ihad no telescope with me, nor any instrument at hand, but I estimatedthe length of the tail at about 20°, and the width, towards theextremity, about 4° or 5°. The whole of the next day we were obliged to stop near the village ofTidore, owing to a strong wind right in our teeth. The country was allcultivated, and I in vain searched for any insects worth capturing. Oneof my men went out to shoot, but returned home without a single bird. Atsunset, the wind having dropped, we quitted Tidore, and reached thenext island, March, where we stayed till morning. The comet was againvisible, but not nearly so brilliant, being partly obscured by clouds;and dimmed by the light of the new moon. We then rowed across to theisland of Motir, which is so surrounded with coral-reefs that it isdangerous to approach. These are perfectly flat, and are only covered athigh water, ending in craggy vertical walls of coral in very deep water. When there is a little wind, it is dangerous to come near these rocks;but luckily it was quite smooth, so we moored to their edge, while themen crawled over the reef to the land, to make; a fire and cook ourdinner-the boat having no accommodation for more than heating water formy morning and evening coffee. We then rowed along the edge of the reefto the end of the island, and were glad to get a nice westerly breeze, which carried us over the strait to the island of Makian, where wearrived about 8 P. M, The sky was quite clear, and though the moon shonebrightly, the comet appeared with quite as much splendour as when wefirst saw it. The coasts of these small islands are very different according to theirgeological formation. The volcanoes, active or extinct, have steep blackbeaches of volcanic sand, or are fringed with rugged masses of lava andbasalt. Coral is generally absent, occurring only in small patches inquiet bays, and rarely or never forming reefs. Ternate, Tidore, andMakian belong to this class. Islands of volcanic origin, not themselvesvolcanoes, but which have been probably recently upraised, are generallymore or less completely surrounded by fringing reefs of coral, andhave beaches of shining white coral sand. Their coasts present volcanicconglomerates, basalt, and in some places a foundation of stratifiedrocks, with patches of upraised coral. Mareh and Motir are of thischaracter, the outline of the latter giving it the appearance of havingbeen a true volcano, and it is said by Forrest to have thrown outstones in 1778. The next day (Oct. 12th), we coasted along the island ofMakian, which consists of a single grand volcano. It was now quiescent, but about two centuries ago (in 1646) there was a terrible eruption, which blew up the whole top of the mountain, leaving the truncatedjagged summit and vast gloomy crater valley which at this timedistinguished it. It was said to have been as lofty as Tidore beforethis catastrophe. [Soon after I' left the Archipelago, on the 29th ofDecember, 1862, another eruption of this mountain suddenly took place, which caused great devastation in the island. All the villages and cropswere destroyed, and numbers of the inhabitants killed. The sand andashes fell so thick that the crops were partially destroyed fifty milesoff, at Ternate, where it was so dark the following day that lampshad to be lighted at noon. For the position of this and the adjacentislands, see the map in Chapter XXXVII. ] I stayed some time at a place where I saw a new clearing on a very steeppart of the mountain, and obtained a few interesting insects. In theevening we went on to the extreme southern point, to be ready to passacross the fifteen-mile strait to the island of Kaióa. At five the nextmorning we started, but the wind, which had hitherto been westerly, nowgot to the south and southwest, and we had to row almost all the waywith a burning sun overhead. As we approached land a fine breeze sprangup, and we went along at a great pace; yet after an hour we were nonearer, and found we were in a violent current carrying us out to sea. At length we overcame it, and got on shore just as the sun set, havingbeen exactly thirteen hours coming fifteen miles. We landed on a beachof hard coralline rock, with rugged cliffs of the same, resembling thoseof the Ke Islands (Chap. XXIX. ) It was accompanied by a brilliancy andluxuriance of the vegetation, very like what I had observed at thoseislands, which so much pleased me that I resolved to stay a few daysat the chief village, and see if their animal productions werecorrespondingly interesting. While searching for a secure anchorage forthe night we again saw the comet, still apparently as brilliant as atfirst, but the tail had now risen to a higher angle. October 14th. --All this day we coasted along the Kaióa Islands, whichhave much the appearance and outline of Ke on a small scale, with theaddition of flat swampy tracts along shore, and outlying coral reefs. Contrary winds and currents had prevented our taking the proper courseto the west of them, and we had to go by a circuitous route round thesouthern extremity of one island, often having to go far out to sea onaccount of coral reefs. On trying to pass a channel through one of thesereefs we were grounded, and all had to get out into the water, which inthis shallow strait had been so heated by the sun as to be disagreeablywarm, and drag our vessel a considerable distance among weeds andsponges, corals and prickly corallines. It was late at night when wereached the little village harbour, and we were all pretty well knockedup by hard work, and having had nothing but very brackish water to drinkall day-the best we could find at our last stopping-place. There was ahouse close to the shore, built for the use of the Resident of Ternatewhen he made his official visits, but now occupied by several nativetravelling merchants, among whom I found a place to sleep. The next morning early I went to the village to find the "Kapala, " orhead man. I informed him that I wanted to stay a few days in the houseat the landing, and begged him to have it made ready for me. He was verycivil, and came down at once to get it cleared, when we found that thetraders had already left, on hearing that I required it. There were nodoors to it, so I obtained the loan of a couple of hurdles to keep outdogs and other animals. The land here was evidently sinking rapidly, as shown by the number of trees standing in salt water dead and dying. After breakfast I started for a walk to the forest-covered hill abovethe village, with a couple of boys as guides. It was exceedingly hot anddry, no rain having fallen for two months. When we reached an elevationof about two hundred feet, the coralline rock which fringes theshore was succeeded by a hard crystalline rock, a kind of metamorphicsandstone. This would indicate flat there had been a recent elevation ofmore than two hundred feet, which had still more recently clanged intoa movement of subsidence. The hill was very rugged, but among dry sticksand fallen trees I found some good insects, mostly of forms and speciesI was already acquainted with from Ternate and Gilolo. Finding no goodpaths I returned, and explored the lower ground eastward of the village, passing through a long range of plantain and tobacco grounds, encumberedwith felled and burnt logs, on which I found quantities of beetles ofthe family Buprestidae of six different species, one of which was newto me. I then reached a path in the swampy forest where I hoped to findsome butterflies, but was disappointed. Being now pretty well exhaustedby the intense heat, I thought it wise to return and reserve furtherexploration for the next day. When I sat down in the afternoon to arrange my insects, the lousewas surrounded by men, women, and children, lost in amazement at myunaccountable proceedings; and when, after pinning out the specimens, Iproceeded to write the name of the place on small circular tickets, andattach one to each, even the old Kapala, the Mahometan priest, and someMalay traders could not repress signs of astonishment. If they hadknown a little more about the ways and opinions of white men, theywould probably have looked upon me as a fool or a madman, but in theirignorance they accepted my operations as worthy of all respect, althoughutterly beyond their comprehension. The next day (October 16th) I went beyond the swamp, and found a placewhere a new clearing was being made in the virgin forest. It was a longand hot walk, and the search among the fallen trunks and branches wasvery fatiguing, but I was rewarded by obtaining about seventy distinctspecies of beetles, of which at least a dozen were new to me, and manyothers rare and interesting. I have never in my life seen beetles soabundant as they were on this spot. Some dozen species of good-sizedgolden Buprestidae, green rose-chafers (Lomaptera), and long-hornedweevils (Anthribidae), were so abundant that they rose up in swarms as Iwalked along, filling the air with a loud buzzing hum. Along with these, several fine Longicorns were almost equally common, forming such auassemblage as for once to realize that idea of tropical luxuriance whichone obtains by looking over the drawers of a well-filled cabinet. Onthe under sides of the trunks clung numbers of smaller or more sluggishLongicorns, while on the branches at the edge of the clearing otherscould be detected sitting with outstretched antenna ready to take flightat the least alarm. It was a glorious spot, and one which will alwayslive in my memory as exhibiting the insect-life of the tropics inunexampled luxuriance. For the three following days I continued to visitthis locality, adding each time many new species to my collection-thefollowing notes of which may be interesting to entomologists. October15th, 33 species of beetles; 16th, 70 species; 17th, 47 species; 18th, 40 species; 19th, 56 species--in all about a hundred species, of whichforty were new to me. There were forty-four species of Longicorns amongthem, and on the last day I took twenty-eight species of Longicorns, ofwhich five were new to me. My boys were less fortunate in shooting. The only birds at all commonwere the great red parrot (Eclectus grandis), found in most of theMoluccas, a crow, and a Megapodius, or mound-maker. A few of the prettyracquet-tailed kingfishers were also obtained, but in very poor plumage. They proved, however, to be of a different species from those found inthe other islands, and come nearest to the bird originally described byLinnaeus under the name of Alcedo dea, and which came from Ternate. Thiswould indicate that the small chain of islands parallel to Gilolo havea few peculiar species in common, a fact which certainly occurs ininsects. The people of Kaioa interested me much. They are evidently a mixed race, having Malay and Papuan affinities, and are allied to the peoplesof Ternate and of Gilolo. They possess a peculiar language, somewhatresembling those of the surrounding islands, but quite distinct. Theyare now Mahometans, and are subject to Ternate, The only fruits seenhere were papaws and pine-apples, the rocky soil and dry climate beingunfavourable. Rice, maize, and plantains flourish well, except thatthey suffer from occasional dry seasons like the present one. There isa little cotton grown, from which the women weave sarongs (Malaypetticoats). There is only one well of good water on the islands, situated close to the landing-place, to which all the inhabitants comefor drinking water. The men are good boat-builders, and they make aregular trade of it and seem to be very well off. After five days at Kaióa we continued our journey, and soon got amongthe narrow straits and islands which lead down to the town of Batchian. In the evening we stayed at a settlement of Galela men. These arenatives of a district in the extreme north of Gilolo, and are greatwanderers over this part of the Archipelago. They build large and roomypraus with outriggers, and settle on any coast or island they take afancy for. They hunt deer and wild pig, drying the meat; they catchturtle and tripang; they cut down the forest and plant rice or maize, and are altogether remarkably energetic and industrious. They are veryline people, of light complexion, tall, and with Papuan features, comingnearer to the drawings and descriptions of the true Polynesians ofTahiti and Owyhee than any I have seen. During this voyage I had several times had an opportunity of seeing mymen get fire by friction. A sharp-edged piece of bamboo is rubbed acrossthe convex surface of another piece, on which a small notch is firstcut. The rubbing is slow at first and gradually quicker, till it becomesvery rapid, and the fine powder rubbed off ignites and falls through thehole which the rubbing has cut in the bamboo. This is done with greatquickness and certainty. The Ternate, people use bamboo in another way. They strike its flinty surface with a bit of broken china, and produce aspark, which they catch in some kind of tinder. On the evening of October 21st we reached our destination, having beentwelve days on the voyage. It had been tine weather all the time, and, although very hot, I had enjoyed myself exceedingly, and had besidesobtained some experience in boat work among islands and coral reefs, which enabled me afterwards to undertake much longer voyages of the samekind. The village or town of Batchian is situated at the head of a wideand deep bay, where a low isthmus connects the northern and southernmountainous parts of the island. To the south is a fine range ofmountains, and I had noticed at several of our landing-places that thegeological formation of the island was very different from those aroundit. Whenever rock was visible it was either sandstone in thin layers, dipping south, or a pebbly conglomerate. Sometimes there was a littlecoralline limestone, but no volcanic rocks. The forest had a denseluxuriance and loftiness seldom found on the dry and porous lavas andraised coral reefs of Ternate and Gilolo; and hoping for a correspondingrichness in the birds and insects, it was with much satisfaction andwith considerable expectation that I began my explorations in thehitherto unknown island of Batchian. CHAPTER XXIV. BATCHIAN. (OCTOBER 1858 To APRIL 1859. ) I LANDED opposite the house kept for the use of the Resident of Ternate, and was met by a respectable middle-aged Malay, who told me he wasSecretary to the Sultan, and would receive the official letter withwhich I had been provided. On giving it him, he at once informed me Imight have the use of the official residence which was empty. I soon gotmy things on shore, but on looking about me found that the house wouldnever do to stay long in. There was no water except at a considerabledistance, and one of my men would be almost entirely occupied gettingwater and firewood, and I should myself have to walk all through thevillage every day to the forest, and live almost in public, a thing Imuch dislike. The rooms were all boarded, and had ceilings, which are agreat nuisance, as there are no means of hanging anything up exceptby driving nails, and not half the conveniences of a native bambooand thatch cottage. I accordingly inquired for a house outside of thevillage on the road to the coal mines, and was informed by the Secretarythat there was a small one belonging to the Sultan, and that he would gowith me early next morning to see it. We had to pass one large river, by a rude but substantial bridge, andto wade through another fine pebbly stream of clear water, just beyondwhich the little but was situated. It was very small, not raised onposts, but with the earth for a floor, and was built almost entirelyof the leaf-stems of the sago-palm, called here "gaba-gaba. " Across theriver behind rose a forest-clad bank, and a good road close in front ofthe horse led through cultivated grounds to the forest about half a mileon, and thence to the coal mines tour miles further. These advantages atonce decided me, and I told the Secretary I would be very glad tooccupy the house. I therefore sent my two men immediately to buy "ataps"(palm-leaf thatch) to repair the roof, and the next day, with theassistance of eight of the Sultan's men, got all my stores and furniturecarried up and pretty comfortably arranged. A rough bamboo bedstead wassoon constructed, and a table made of boards which I had brought withme, fixed under the window. Two bamboo chairs, an easy cane chair, andhanging shelves suspended with insulating oil cups, so as to be safefrom ants, completed my furnishing arrangements. In the afternoon succeeding my arrival, the Secretary accompanied meto visit the Sultan. We were kept waiting a few minutes in an outergate-house, and then ushered to the door of a rude, half-fortifiedwhitewashed house. A small table and three chairs were placed in a largeouter corridor, and an old dirty-faced man with grey hair and a grimybeard, dressed in a speckled blue cotton jacket and loose red trousers, came forward, shook hands, and asked me to be coated. After a quarterof an hour's conversation on my pursuits, in which his Majesty seemed totake great interest, tea and cakes-of rather better quality than usualon such occasions-were brought in. I thanked him for the house, andoffered to show him my collections, which he promised to come and lookat. He then asked me to teach him to take views-to make maps-to get hima small gun from England, and a milch-goat from Bengal; all of whichrequests I evaded as skilfully as I was able, and we parted very goodfriends. He seemed a sensible old man, and lamented the small populationof the island, which he assured me was rich in many valuable minerals, including gold; but there were not people enough to look after themand work them. I described to him the great rush of population on thediscovery of the Australian gold mines, and the huge nuggets foundthere, with which he was much interested, and exclaimed, "Oh? if we hadbut people like that, my country would be quite as rich. " The morning after I had got into my new house, I sent my boys out toshoot, and went myself to explore the road to the coal mines. In lessthan half a mile it entered the virgin forest, at a place where somemagnificent trees formed a kind of natural avenue. The first part wasflat and swampy, but it soon rose a little, and ran alongside the finestream which passed behind my house, and which here rushed and gurgledover a rocky or pebbly bed, sometimes leaving wide sandbanks on itsmargins, and at other places flowing between high banks crowned witha varied and magnificent forest vegetation. After about two miles, thevalley narrowed, and the road was carried along the steep hill-sidewhich rose abruptly from the water's edge. In some places the rock hadbeen cut away, but its surface was already covered with elegant fernsand creepers. Gigantic tree-ferns were abundant, and the whole foresthad an air of luxuriance and rich variety which it never attains inthe dry volcanic soil to which I had been lately accustomed. A littlefurther the road passed to the other side of the valley by a bridgeacross the stream at a place where a great mass of rock in the middleoffered an excellent support for it, and two miles more of mostpicturesque and interesting road brought me to the mining establishment. This is situated in a large open space, at a spot where two tributariesfall into the main stream. Several forest-paths and new clearingsoffered fine collecting grounds, and I captured some new and interestinginsects; but as it was getting late I had to reserve a more thoroughexploration for future occasions. Coal had been discovered here someyears before, and the road was made in order to bring down a sufficientquantity for a fair trial on the Dutch steamers. The quality, however, was not thought sufficiently good, and the mines were abandoned. Quiterecently, works had been commenced in another spot, in Hopes of findinga better vein. There ware about eighty men employed, chiefly convicts;but this was far too small a number for mining operations in such acountry, where the mere keeping a few miles of road in repair requiresthe constant work of several men. If coal of sufficiently good qualityshould be found, a tramroad would be made, and would be very easilyworked, owing to the regular descent of the valley. Just as I got home I overtook Ali returning from shooting with somebirch hanging from his belt. He seemed much pleased, and said, "Lookhere, sir, what a curious bird, " holding out what at first completelypuzzled me. I saw a bird with a mass of splendid green feathers onits breast, elongated into two glittering tufts; but, what I could notunderstand was a pair of long white feathers, which stuck straight outfrom each shoulder. Ali assured me that the bird stuck them out this wayitself, when fluttering its wings, and that they had remained so withouthis touching them. I now saw that I had got a great prize, no less thana completely new form of the Bird of Paradise, differing most remarkablyfrom every other known bird. The general plumage is very sober, beinga pure ashy olive, with a purplish tinge on the back; the crown of thehead is beautifully glossed with pale metallic violet, and the feathersof the front extend as much over the beak as inmost of the family. Theneck and breast are scaled with fine metallic green, and the feathers onthe lower part are elongated on each side, so as to form a two-pointedgorget, which can be folded beneath the wings, or partially erected andspread out in the same way as the side plumes of most of the birds ofparadise. The four long white plumes which give the bird its altogetherunique character, spring from little tubercles close to the upper edgeof the shoulder or bend of the wing; they are narrow, gentle curved, andequally webbed on both sides, of a pure creamy white colour. They areabout six inches long, equalling the wing, and can be raised at rightangles to it, or laid along the body at the pleasure of the bird. Thebill is horn colour, the legs yellow, and the iris pale olive. Thisstriking novelty has been named by Mr. G. R. Gray of the British Museum, Semioptera Wallacei, or "Wallace's Standard wing. " A few days later I obtained an exceedingly beautiful new butterfly, allied to the fine blue Papilio Ulysses, but differing from it in thecolour being of a more intense tint, and in having a row of blue stripesaround the margin of the lower wings. This good beginning was, however, rather deceptive, and I soon found that insects, and especiallybutterflies, were somewhat scarce, and birds in tar less variety thanI had anticipated. Several of the fine Moluccan species were howeverobtained. The handsome red lory with green wings and a yellow spot inthe back (Lorius garrulus), was not uncommon. When the Jambu, or roseapple (Eugenic sp. ), was in flower in the village, flocks of the littlelorikeet (Charmosyna placentis), already met with in Gilolo, came tofeed upon the nectar, and I obtained as many specimens as I desired. Another beautiful bird of the parrot tribe was the Geoffroyuscyanicollis, a green parrot with a red bill and head, which colourshaded on the crown into azure blue, and thence into verditer blueand the green of the back. Two large and handsome fruit pigeons, withmetallic green, ashy, and rufous plumage, were not uncommon; and I wasrewarded by finding a splendid deep blue roller (Eurystomus azureus);a lovely golden-capped sunbird (Nectarinea auriceps), and a fineracquet-tailed kingfisher (Tanysiptera isis), all of which were entirelynew to ornithologists. Of insects I obtained a considerable number ofinteresting beetles, including many fine longicorns, among which was thelargest and handsomest species of the genus Glenea yet discovered. Amongbutterflies the beautiful little Danis sebae was abundant, making theforests gay with its delicate wings of white and the richest metallicblue; while showy Papilios, and pretty Pieridae, and dark, richEuphaeas, many of them new, furnished a constant source of interest andpleasing occupation. The island of Batchian possesses no really indigenous inhabitants, theinterior being altogether uninhabited; and there are only a few smallvillages on various parts of the coast; yet I found here four distinctraces, which would wofully mislead an ethnological traveller unableto obtain information as to their origin, first there are the BatchianMalays, probably the earliest colonists, differing very little fromthose of Ternate. Their language, however, seems to have more ofthe Papuan element, with a mixture of pure Malay, showing thatthe settlement is one of stragglers of various races, although nowsufficiently homogeneous. Then there are the "Orang Sirani, " as atTernate and Amboyna. Many of these have the Portuguese physiognomystrikingly preserved, but combined with a skin generally darker thanthe Malays. Some national customs are retained, and the Malay, whichis their only language, contains a large number of Portuguese wordsand idioms. The third race consists of the Galela men from the north ofGilolo, a singular people, whom I have already described; and the fourthis a colony from Tomóre, in the eastern peninsula of Celebes. Thesepeople were brought here at their own request a few years ago, to avoidextermination by another tribe. They have a very light complexion, openTartar physiognomy, low stature, and a language of the Bugis type. They are an industrious agricultural people, and supply the town withvegetables. They make a good deal of bark cloth, similar to the tapa ofthe Polynesians, by cutting down the proper trees and taping off largecylinders of bark, which is beaten with mallets till it separates fromthe wood. It is then soaked, and so continuously and regularly beatenout that it becomes as thin and as tough as parchment. In this foam itis much used for wrappers for clothes; and they also make jackets of it, sewn neatly together and stained with the juice of another kind of bark, which gives it a dark red colour and renders it nearly waterproof. Here are four very distinct kinds of people who may all be seen anyday in and about the town of Batchian. Now if we suppose a travellerignorant of Malay, picking up a word or two here and there ofthe "Batchian language, " and noting down the "physical and moralpeculiarities, manners, and customs of the Batchian people"--(forthere are travellers who do all this in four-and-twenty hours)--what anaccurate and instructive chapter we should have' what transitions wouldbe pointed out, what theories of the origin of races would be developedwhile the next traveller might flatly contradict every statement andarrive at exactly opposite conclusions. Soon after I arrived here the Dutch Government introduced a new coppercoinage of cents instead of doits (the 100th instead of the 120th partof a guilder), and all the old coins were ordered to be sent to Ternateto be changed. I sent a bag containing 6, 000 doits, and duly receivedthe new money by return of the boat. Then Ali went to bring it, however, the captain required a written order; so I waited to send again the nextday, and it was lucky I did so, for that night my house was entered, allmy boxes carried out and ransacked, and the various articles left on theroad about twenty yards off, where we found them at five in the morning, when, on getting up and finding the house empty, we rushed out todiscover tracks of the thieves. Not being able to find the copper moneywhich they thought I had just received, they decamped, taking nothingbut a few yards of cotton cloth and a black coat and trousers, whichlatter were picked up a few days afterwards hidden in the grass. Therewas no doubt whatever who were the thieves. Convicts are employed toguard the Government stores when the boat arrives from Ternate. Two ofthem watch all night, and often take the opportunity to roam about andcommit robberies. The next day I received my money, and secured it well in a strong boxfastened under my bed. I took out five or six hundred cents for dailyexpenses, and put them in a small japanned box, which always stood uponmy table. In the afternoon I went for a short walk, and on my returnthis box and my keys, which I had carelessly left on the table, weregone. Two of my boys were in the house, but had heard nothing. Iimmediately gave information of the two robberies to the Director at themines and to the Commandant at the fort, and got for answer, that ifI caught the thief in the act I might shoot him. By inquiry in thevillage, we afterwards found that one of the convicts who was on duty atthe Government rice-store in the village had quitted his guard, wasseen to pass over the bridge towards my house, was seen again withintwo hundred yards of my house, and on returning over the bridge intothe village carried something under his arm, carefully covered withhis sarong. My box was stolen between the hours he was seen goingand returning, and it was so small as to be easily carried in the waydescribed. This seemed pretty clear circumstantial evidence. I accusedthe man and brought the witnesses to the Commandant. The man wasexamined, and confessed having gone to the river close to my house tobathe; but said he had gone no farther, having climbed up a cocoa-nuttree and brought home two nuts, which he had covered over, _becausehe was ashamed to be seen carrying them!_ This explanation was thoughtsatisfactory, and he was acquitted. I lost my cash and my box, a sealI much valued, with other small articles, and all my keys-the severestloss by far. Luckily my large cash-box was left locked, but so wereothers which I required to open immediately. There was, however, a veryclever blacksmith employed to do ironwork for the mines, and he pickedmy locks for me when I required them, and in a few days made me newkeys, which I used all the time I was abroad. Towards the end of November the wet season set in, and we had daily andalmost incessant rains, with only about one or two hours' sunshine inthe morning. The flat parts of the forest became flooded, the roadsfilled with mud, and insects and birds were scarcer than ever. OnDecember Lath, in the afternoon, we had a sharp earthquake shock, whichmade the house and furniture shale and rattle for five minutes, and thetrees and shrubs wave as if a gust of wind had passed over them. Aboutthe middle of December I removed to the village, in order more easilyto explore the district to the west of it, and to be near the sea when Iwished to return to Ternate. I obtained the use of a good-sized house inthe Campong Sirani (or Christian village), and at Christmas and the NewYear had to endure the incessant gun-firing, drum-beating, and fiddlingof the inhabitants. These people are very fond of music and dancing, and it would astonisha European to visit one of their assemblies. We enter a gloomy palm-leafhut, in which two or three very dim lamps barely render darknessvisible. The floor is of black sandy earth, the roof hid in a smokyimpenetrable blackness; two or three benches stand against the walls, and the orchestra consists of a fiddle, a fife, a drum, and a triangle. There is plenty of company, consisting of young men and women, all veryneatly dressed in white and black--a true Portuguese habit. Quadrilles, waltzes, polkas, and mazurkas are danced with great vigour and muchskill. The refreshments are muddy coffee and a few sweetmeats. Dancingis kept up for hours, and all is conducted with much decorum andpropriety. A party of this kind meets about once a week, the principalinhabitants taking it by turns, and all who please come in without muchceremony. It is astonishing how little these people have altered in three hundredyears, although in that time they have changed their language and lostall knowledge of their own nationality. They are still in manners andappearance almost pure Portuguese, very similar to those with whom I hadbecome acquainted on the banks of the Amazon. They live very poorly asregards their house and furniture, but preserve a semi-European dress, and have almost all full suits of black for Sundays. They are nominallyProtestants, but Sunday evening is their grand day for music anddancing. The men are often good hunters; and two or three times a week, deer or wild pigs are brought to the village, which, with fish andfowls, enables them to live well. They are almost the only people inthe Archipelago who eat the great fruit-eating bats called by us "flyingfoxes. " These ugly creatures are considered a great delicacy, and aremuch sought after. At about the beginning of the year they come in largeflocks to eat fruit, and congregate during the day on some small islandsin the bay, hanging by thousands on the trees, especially on dead ones. They can then be easily caught or knocked down with sticks, and arebrought home by basketsfull. They require to be carefully prepared, as the skin and fur has a rank end powerful foxy odour; but they aregenerally cooked with abundance of spices and condiments, and are reallyvery good eating, something like hare. The Orang Sirani are good cooks, having a much greater variety of savoury dishes than the Malays. Here, they live chiefly on sago as bread, with a little rice occasionally, andabundance of vegetables and fruit. It is a curious fact that everywhere in the Past where the Portuguesehave mixed with the native races they leave become darker in colour thaneither of the parent stocks. This is the case almost always with these"Orang Sirani" in the Moluccas, and with the Portuguese of Malacca. The reverse is the case in South America, where the mixture of thePortuguese or Brazilian with the Indian produces the "Mameluco, " who isnot unfrequently lighter than either parent, and always lighter than theIndian. The women at Batchian, although generally fairer than the men, are coarse in features, and very far inferior in beauty to the mixedDutch-Malay girls, or even to many pure Malays. The part of the village in which I resided was a grove of cocoa-nuttrees, and at night, when the dead leaves were sometimes collectedtogether and burnt, the effect was most magnificent--the tall stems, the fine crowns of foliage, and the immense fruit-clusters, beingbrilliantly illuminated against a dark sky, and appearing like a fairypalace supported on a hundred columns, and groined over with leafyarches. The cocoa-nut tree, when well grown, is certainly the prince ofpalms both for beauty and utility. During my very first walk into the forest at Batchian, I had seensitting on a leaf out of reach, an immense butterfly of a dark colourmarked with white and yellow spots. I could not capture it as it flewaway high up into the forest, but I at once saw that it was a female ofa new species of Ornithoptera or "bird-winged butterfly, " the pride ofthe Eastern tropics. I was very anxious to get it and to find themale, which in this genus is always of extreme beauty. During the twosucceeding months I only saw it once again, and shortly afterwards I sawthe male flying high in the air at the mining village. I had begun todespair of ever getting a specimen, as it seemed so rare and wild; tillone day, about the beginning of January, I found a beautiful shrub withlarge white leafy bracts and yellow flowers, a species of Mussaenda, andsaw one of these noble insects hovering over it, but it was too quickfor me, and flew away. The next clay I went again to the same shrub andsucceeded in catching a female, and the day after a fine male. Ifound it to be as I had expected, a perfectly new and most magnificentspecies, and one of the most gorgeously coloured butterflies in theworld. Fine specimens of the male are more than seven inches acrossthe wings, which are velvety black and fiery orange, the latter colourreplacing the green of the allied species. The beauty and brilliancy ofthis insect are indescribable, and none but a naturalist can understandthe intense excitement I experienced when I at length captured it. Ontaking it out of my net and opening the glorious wings, my heart beganto beat violently, the blood rushed to my head, and I felt much morelike fainting than I have done when in apprehension of immediate death. I had a headache the rest of the day, so great was the excitementproduced by what will appear to most people a very inadequate cause. I had decided to return to Ternate in a week or two more, but this grandcapture determined me to stay on till I obtained a good series ofthe new butterfly, which I have since named Ornithoptera croesus. TheMussaenda bush was an admirable place, which I could visit every dayon my way to the forest; and as it was situated in a dense thicket ofshrubs and creepers, I set my man Lahi to clear a space all round it, sothat I could easily get at any insect that might visit it. Afterwards, finding that it was often necessary to wait some time there, I had alittle seat put up under a tree by the side of it, where I came everyday to eat my lunch, and thus had half an hour's watching about noon, besides a chance as I passed it in the morning. In this way I obtainedon an average one specimen a day for a long time, but more than halfof these were females, and more than half the remainder worn or brokenspecimens, so that I should not have obtained many perfect males had Inot found another station for them. As soon as I had seen them come to flowers, I sent my man Lahi with anet on purpose to search for them, as they had also been seen at someflowering trees on the beach, and I promised him half a day's wagesextra for every good specimen he could catch. After a day or two hebrought me two very fair specimens, and told me he had caught them inthe bed of a large rocky stream that descends from the mountains to thesea abort a mile below the village. They flew down this river, settlingoccasionally on stones and rocks in the water, and he was obliged towade up it or jump from rock to rock to get at them. I went with himone day, but found that the stream was far too rapid and the stones tooslippery for me to do anything, so I left it entirely to him, and allthe rest of the time we stayed in Batchian he used to be out all day, generally bringing me one, and on good days two or three specimens. Iwas thus able to bring away with me more than a hundred of both sexes, including perhaps twenty very fine males, though not more than five orsix that were absolutely perfect. My daily walk now led me, first about half a mile along the sandy beach, then through a sago swamp over a causeway of very shaky poles to thevillage of the Tomore people. Beyond this was the forest with patches ofnew clearing, shady paths, and a considerable quantity of felled timber. I found this a very fair collecting ground, especially for beetles. The fallen trunks in the clearings abounded with golden Buprestidaeand curious Brenthidae, and longicorns, while in the forest I foundabundance of the smaller Curculionidae, many longicorns, and some finegreen Carabidae. Butterflies were not abundant, but I obtained a few more of the fineblue Papilio, and a number of beautiful little Lycaenidae, as well as asingle specimen of the very rare Papilio Wallacei, of which I had takenthe hitherto unique specimen in the Aru Islands. The most interesting birds I obtained here, were the beautiful bluekingfisher, Todiramphus diops; the fine green and purple doves, Ptilonopus superbus and P. Iogaster, and several new birds of smallsize. My shooters still brought me in specimens of the SemiopteraWallacei, and I was greatly excited by the positive statements ofseveral of the native hunters that another species of this bird existed, much handsomer and more remarkable. They declared that the plumage wasglossy black, with metallic green breast as in my species, but that thewhite shoulder plumes were twice as long, and hung down far below thebody of the bird. They declared that when hunting pigs or deer far inthe forest they occasionally saw this bird, but that it was rare. Iimmediately offered twelve guilders (a pound) for a specimen; but all invain, and I am to this day uncertain whether such a bird exists. SinceI left, the German naturalist, Dr. Bernstein, stayed many months in theisland with a large staff of hunters collecting for the Leyden Museum;and as he was not more successful than myself, we must consider eitherthat the bird is very rare, or is altogether a myth. Batchian is remarkable as being the most eastern point on the globeinhabited by any of the Quadrumana. A large black baboon-monkey(Cynopithecus nigrescens) is abundant in some parts of the forest. Thisanimal has bare red callosities, and a rudimentary tail about an inchlong--a mere fleshy tubercle, which may be very easily overlooked. It isthe same species that is found all over the forests of Celebes, andas none of the other Mammalia of that island extend into Batchian I aminclined to suppose that this species has been accidentally introducedby the roaming Malays, who often carry about with them tame monkeysand other animals. This is rendered more probable by the fact that theanimal is not found in Gilolo, which is only separated from Batchian bya very narrow strait. The introduction may have been very recent, as ina fertile and unoccupied island such an animal would multiply rapidly. The only other mammals obtained were an Eastern opossum, which Dr. Grayhas described as Cuscus ornatus; the little flying opossum, Belideusariel; a Civet cat, Viverra zebetha; and nice species of bats, most ofthe smaller ones being caught in the dusk with my butterfly net as theyflew about before the house. After much delay, owing to bad weather and the illness of one of my men, I determined to visit Kasserota (formerly the chief village), situatedup a small stream, on an island close to the north coast of Batchian;where I was told that many rare birds were found. After my boat wasloaded and everything ready, three days of heavy squalls prevented ourstarting, and it was not till the 21st of March that we got away. Early next morning we entered the little river, and in about an hour wereached the Sultan's house, which I had obtained permission to use. Itwas situated on the bank of the river, and surrounded by a forestof fruit trees, among which were some of the very loftiest and mostgraceful cocoa-nut palms I have ever seen. It rained nearly all thatday, and I could do little but unload and unpack. Towards the afternoonit cleared up, and I attempted to explore in various directions, butfound to my disgust that the only path was a perfect mud swamp, alongwhich it was almost impossible to walk, and the surrounding forest sodamp and dark as to promise little in the way of insects. I found too oninquiry that the people here made no clearings, living entirely on sago, fruit, fish, and game; and the path only led to a steep rocky mountainequally impracticable and unproductive. The next day I sent my men tothis hill, hoping it might produce some good birds; but they returnedwith only two common species, and I myself had been able to get nothing;every little track I had attempted to follow leading to a dense sagoswamp. I saw that I should waste time by staying here, and determined toleave the following day. This is one of those spots so hard for the European naturalist toconceive, where with all the riches of a tropical vegetation, and partlyperhaps from the very luxuriance of that vegetation, insects areas scarce as in the most barren parts of Europe, and hardly moreconspicuous. In temperate climates there is a tolerable uniformity inthe distribution of insects over those parts of a country in which thereis a similarity in the vegetation, any deficiency being easily accountedfor by the absence of wood or uniformity of surface. The travellerhastily passing through such a country can at once pick out a collectingground which will afford him a fair notion of its entomology. Here thecase is different. There are certain requisites of a good collectingground which can only be ascertained to exist by some days' search inthe vicinity of each village. In some places there is no virgin forest, as at Djilolo and Sahoe; in others there are no open pathways orclearings, as here. At Batchian there are only two tolerable collectingplaces, --the road to the coal mines, and the new clearings made by theTomóre people, the latter being by far the most productive. I believethe fact to be that insects are pretty uniformly distributed over thesecountries (where the forests have not been cleared away), and are soscarce in any one spot that searching for them is almost useless. If theforest is all cleared away, almost all the insects disappear with it;but when small clearings and paths are made, the fallen trees in variousstages of drying and decay, the rotting leaves, the loosening bark andthe fungoid growths upon it, together with the flowers that appearin much greater abundance where the light is admitted, are so manyattractions to the insects for miles around, and cause a wonderfulaccumulation of species and individuals. When the entomologist candiscover such a spot, he does more in a mouth than he could possibly doby a year's search in the depths of the undisturbed forest. The next morning we left early, and reached the mouth of the littleriver in about au hour. It flows through a perfectly flat alluvialplain, but there are hills which approach it near the mouth. Towards thelower part, in a swamp where the salt-water must enter at high tides, were a number of elegant tree-ferns from eight to fifteen feet high. These are generally considered to be mountain plants, and rarely tooccur on the equator at an elevation of less than one or two thousandfeet. In Borneo, in the Aru Islands, and on the banks of the Amazon, Ihave observed them at the level of the sea, and think it probable thatthe altitude supposed to be requisite for them may have been deducedfrom facts observed in countries where the plains and lowlands arelargely cultivated, and most of the indigenous vegetation destroyed. Such is the case in most parts of Java, India, Jamaica, and Brazil, where the vegetation of the tropics has been most fully explored. Coming out to sea we turned northwards, and in about two hours'sail reached a few huts, called Langundi, where some Galela men hadestablished themselves as collectors of gum-dammar, with which they madetorches for the supply of the Ternate market. About a hundred yards backrises a rather steep hill, and a short walk having shown me that therewas a tolerable path up it, I determined to stay here for a few days. Opposite us, and all along this coast of Batchian, stretches a row offine islands completely uninhabited. Whenever I asked the reason whyno one goes to live in them, the answer always was, "For fear of theMagindano pirates. " Every year these scourges of the Archipelago wanderin one direction or another, making their rendezvous on some uninhabitedisland, and carrying devastation to all the small settlements around;robbing, destroying, killing, or taking captive all they nee with. Theirlong well-manned praus escape from the pursuit of any sailing vessel bypulling away right in the wind's eye, and the warning smoke of a steamergenerally enables them to hide in some shallow bay, or narrow river, orforest-covered inlet, till the danger is passed. The only effectual wayto put a stop to their depredations would be to attack them in theirstrongholds and villages, and compel them to give up piracy, and submitto strict surveillance. Sir James Brooke did this with the pirates ofthe north-west coast of Borneo, and deserves the thanks of the wholepopulation of the Archipelago for having rid them of half their enemies. All along the beach here, and in the adjacent strip of sandy lowland, isa remarkable display of Pandanaceae or Screw-pines. Some are like hugebranching candelabra, forty or fifty feet high, and bearing at theend of each branch a tuft of immense sword-shaped leaves, six or eightinches wide, and as many feet long. Others have a single unbranchedstem, six or seven feet high, the upper part clothed with the spirallyarranged leaves, and bearing a single terminal fruit ac large as aswan's egg. Others of intermediate size have irregular clusters of roughred fruits, and all have more or less spiny-edged leaves and ringedstems. The young plants of the larger species have smooth glossy thickleaves, sometimes ten feet long and eight inches wide, which are usedall over the Moluccas and New Guinea, to make "cocoyas" or sleepingmats, which are often very prettily ornamented with coloured patterns. Higher up on the bill is a forest of immense trees, among which thoseproducing the resin called dammar (Dammara sp. ) are abundant. Theinhabitants of several small villages in Batchian are entirely engagedin searching for this product, and making it into torches by poundingit and filling it into tubes of palm leaves about a yard long, whichare the only lights used by many of the natives. Sometimes the dammaraccumulates in large masses of ten or twenty pounds weight, eitherattached to the trunk, or found buried in the ground at the foot of thetrees. The most extraordinary trees of the forest are, however, a kindof fig, the aerial roots of which form a pyramid near a hundred feethigh, terminating just where the tree branches out above, so that thereis no real trunk. This pyramid or cone is formed of roots of every size, mostly descending in straight lines, but more or less obliquely-and socrossing each other, and connected by cross branches, which grow fromone to another; as to form a dense and complicated network, to whichnothing but a photograph could do justice (see illustration at Vol. I. Page 130). The Kanary is also abundant in this forest, the nut of whichhas a very agreeable flavour, and produces an excellent oil. The fleshyouter covering of the nut is the favourite food of the great greenpigeons of these islands (Carpophaga, perspicillata), and theirhoarse copings and heavy flutterings among the branches can be almostcontinually heard. After ten days at Langundi, finding it impossible to get the bird I wasparticularly in search of (the Nicobar pigeon, or a new species alliedto it), and finding no new birds, and very few insects, I left early onthe morning of April 1st, and in the evening entered a river on themain island of Batchian (Langundi, like Kasserota, being on a distinctisland), where some Malays and Galela men have a small village, and havemade extensive rice-fields and plantain grounds. Here we found a goodhouse near the river bank, where the water was fresh and clear, and theowner, a respectable Batchian Malay, offered me sleeping room and theuse of the verandah if I liked to stay. Seeing forest all round withina short distance, I accepted his offer, and the next morning beforebreakfast walked out to explore, and on the skirts of the forestcaptured a few interesting insects. Afterwards, I found a path which led for a mile or more through a veryfine forest, richer in palms than any I had seen in the Moluccas. One ofthese especially attracted my attention from its elegance. The stein wasnot thicker than my wrist, yet it was very lofty, and bore clustersof bright red fruit. It was apparently a species of Areca. Another ofimmense height closely resembled in appearance the Euterpes of SouthAmerica. Here also grew the fan-leafed palm, whose small, nearlyentire leaves are used to make the dammar torches, and to form thewater-buckets in universal use. During this walk I saw near a dozenspecies of palms, as well as two or three Pandani different from thoseof Langundi. There were also some very fine climbing ferns and true wildPlantains (Musa), bearing an edible fruit not so large as one's thumb, and consisting of a mass of seeds just covered with pulp and skin. The people assured me they had tried the experiment of sowing andcultivating this species, but could not improve it. They probably didnot grow it in sufficient quantity, and did not persevere sufficientlylong. Batchian is an island that would perhaps repay the researches of abotanist better than any other in the whole Archipelago. It containsa great variety of surface and of soil, abundance of large and smallstreams, many of which are navigable for some distance, and there beingno savage inhabitants, every part of it can be visited with perfectsafety. It possesses gold, copper, and coal, hot springs and geysers, sedimentary and volcanic rocks and coralline limestone, alluvial plains, abrupt hills and lofty mountains, a moist climate, and a grand andluxuriant forest vegetation. The few days I stayed here produced me several new insects, but scarcelyany birds. Butterflies and birds are in fact remarkably scarce in theseforests. One may walk a whole day and not see more than two or threespecies of either. In everything but beetles, these eastern islands arevery deficient compared with the western (Java, Borneo, &c. ), and muchmore so if compared with the forests of South America, where twenty orthirty species of butterflies may be caught every day, and on verygood days a hundred, a number we can hardly reach here in months ofunremitting search. In birds there is the same difference. In mostparts of tropical America we may always find some species ofwoodpecker tanager, bush shrike, chatterer, trogon, toucan, cuckoo, and tyrant-flycatcher; and a few days' active search will produce morevariety than can be here met with in as many months. Yet, along withthis poverty of individuals and of species, there are in almost everyclass and order, some one, or two species of such extreme beauty orsingularity, as to vie with, or even surpass, anything that even SouthAmerica can produce. One afternoon when I was arranging my insects, and surrounded by a crowdof wondering spectators, I showed one of them how to look at a smallinsect with a hand-lens, which caused such evident wonder that all therest wanted to see it too. I therefore fixed the glass firmly to a pieceof soft wood at the proper focus, and put under it a little spinybeetle of the genus Hispa, and then passed it round for examination. Theexcitement was immense. Some declared it was a yard long; others werefrightened, and instantly dropped it, and all were as much astonished, and made as much shouting and gesticulation, as children at a pantomime, or at a Christmas exhibition of the oxyhydrogen microscope. And allthis excitement was produced by a little pocket lens, an inch and a halffocus, and therefore magnifying only four or five times, but which totheir unaccustomed eyes appeared to enlarge a hundred fold. On the last day of my stay here, one of my hunters succeeded in findingand shooting the beautiful Nicobar pigeon, of which I had been so longin search. None of the residents had ever seen it, which shows that itis rare and slay. My specimen was a female in beautiful condition, andthe glassy coppery and green of its plumage, the snow-white tailand beautiful pendent feathers of the neck, were greatly admired. Isubsequently obtained a specimen in New Guinea; and once saw it in theKaióa islands. It is found also in some small islands near Macassar, inothers near Borneo; and in the Nicobar islands, whence it receives itsname. It is a ground feeder, only going upon trees to roost, and is avery heavy fleshy bird. This may account far the fact of its beingfound chiefly on very small islands, while in the western half of theArchipelago, it seems entirely absent from the larger ones. Being aground feeder it is subject to the attacks of carnivorous quadrupeds, which are not found in the very small islands. Its wide distributionover the whole length of the Archipelago; from extreme west to east, ishowever very extraordinary, since, with the exception of a few ofthe birds of prey, not a single land bird has so wide a range. Ground-feeding birds are generally deficient in power of extendedflight, and this species is so bulky and heavy that it appears at firstsight quite unable to fly a mile. A closer examination shows, however, that its wings are remarkably large, perhaps in proportion to its sizelarger than those of any other pigeon, and its pectoral musclesare immense. A fact communicated to me by the son of my friend Mr. Duivenboden of Ternate, would show that, in accordance with thesepeculiarities of structure, it possesses the power of flying longdistances. Mr. D. Established an oil factory on a small coral island, ahundred miles north of New Guinea, with no intervening land. After theisland had been settled a year, and traversed in every direction, hisson paid it a visit; and just as the schooner was coming to an anchor, a bird was seen flying from seaward which fell into the water exhaustedbefore it could reach the shore. A boat was sent to pick it up, and itwas found to be a Nicobar pigeon, which must have come from New Guinea, and flown a hundred miles, since no such bird previously inhabited theisland. This is certainly a very curious case of adaptation to an unusual andexceptional necessity. The bird does not ordinarily require great powersof flight, since it lives in the forest, feeds on fallen fruits, androosts in low trees like other ground pigeons. The majority of theindividuals, therefore, can never make full use of their enormouslypowerful wings, till the exceptional case occurs of an individualbeing blown out to sea, or driven to emigrate by the incursion of somecarnivorous animal, or the pressure of scarcity of food. A modificationexactly opposite to that which produced the wingless birds (the Apteryx, Cassowary, and Dodo), appears to have here taken place; and it iscurious that in both cases an insular habitat should have been themoving cause. The explanation is probably the same as that appliedby Mr. Darwin to the case of the Madeira beetles, many of which arewingless, while some of the winged ones have the wings better developedthan the same species on the continent. It was advantageous to theseinsects either never to fly at all, and thus not run the risk of beingblown out to sea, or to fly so well as to be able either to return toland, or to migrate safely to the continent. Pad flying was worsethan not flying at all. So, while in such islands as New Zealand andMauritius far from all land, it was safer for a ground-feeding bird notto fly at all, and the short-winged individuals continually surviving, prepared the way for a wingless group of birds; in a vast Archipelagothickly strewn with islands and islets it was advantageous to be ableoccasionally to migrate, and thus the long and strong-winged varietiesmaintained their existence longest, and ultimately supplanted allothers, and spread the race over the whole Archipelago. Besides this pigeon, the only new bird I obtained during the trip wasa rare goat-sucker (Batrachostomus crinifrons), the only species of thegenus yet found in the Moluccas. Among my insects the best were the rarePieris arum, of a rich chrome yellow colour, with a black border andremarkable white antenna--perhaps the very finest butterfly of thegenus; and a large black wasp-like insect, with immense jaws like astag-beetle, which has been named Megachile Pluto by Mr. B. Smith. Icollected about a hundred species of beetles quite new to me, but mostlyvery minute, and also many rare and handsome ones which I had alreadyfound in Batchian. On the whole I was tolerably satisfied with myseventeen days' excursion, which was a very agreeable one, and enabledme to sea a good deal of the island. I had hired a roomy boat, andbrought with me a small table and my rattan chair. These were greatcomforts, as, wherever there was a roof, I could immediately instalmyself, and work and eat at ease. When I could not find accommodation onshore I slept in the boat, which was always drawn up on the beach if westayed for a few days at one spot. On my return to Batchian I packed up my collections, and prepared formy return to Ternate. When I first came I had sent back my boat by thepilot, with two or three other men who had been glad of the opportunity. I now took advantage of a Government boat which had just arrived withrice for the troops, and obtained permission to return in her, andaccordingly started on the 13th of April, having resided only a weekshort of six months on the island of Batchian. The boat was one ofthe kind called "Kora-kora, " quite open, very low, and about four tonsburthen. It had outriggers of bamboo about five feet off each side, which supported a bamboo platform extending the whole length of thevessel. On the extreme outside of this sit the twenty rowers, whilewithin was a convenient passage fore and aft. The middle portion of theboat was covered with a thatch-house, in which baggage and passengersare stowed; the gunwale was not more than a foot above water, and fromthe great top and side weight, and general clumsiness, these boats aredangerous in heavy weather, and are not unfrequently lost. A trianglemast and mat sail carried us on when the wind was favourable, --which(as usual) it never was, although, according to the monsoon, it ought tohave been. Our water, carried in bamboos, would only last two days, andas the voyage occupied seven, we had to touch at a great many places. The captain was not very energetic, and the men rowed as little as theypleased, or we might have reached Ternate in three days, having had fineweather and little wind all the way. There were several passengers besides myself: three or four Javanesesoldiers, two convicts whose time had expired (one, curiously enough, being the man who had stolen my cash-box and keys), the schoolmaster'swife and a servant going on a visit to Ternate, and a Chinese tradergoing to buy goods. We had to sleep all together in the cabin, packedpretty close; but they very civilly allowed me plenty of room for mymattrass, and we got on very well together. There was a little cookhousein the bows, where we could boil our rice and make our coffee, every oneof course bringing his own provisions, and arranging his meal-times ashe found most convenient. The passage would have been agreeable enoughbut for the dreadful "tom-toms, " or wooden drums, which are beatenincessantly while the men are rowing. Two men were engaged constantly atthem, making a fearful din the whole voyage. The rowers are men sent bythe Sultan of Ternate. They get about threepence a day, and find theirown provisions. Each man had a strong wooden "betel" box, on which hegenerally sat, a sleeping-mat, and a change of clothes--rowing naked, with only a sarong or a waistcloth. They sleep in their places, coveredwith their mat, which keeps out the rain pretty well. They chew betelor smoke cigarettes incessantly; eat dry sago and a little salt fish;seldom sing while rowing, except when excited and wanting to reach astopping-place, and do not talk a great deal. They are mostly Malays, with a sprinkling of Alfuros from Gilolo, and Papuans from Guebe orWaigiou. One afternoon we stayed at Makian; many of the men went on shore, anda great deal of plantains, bananas, and other fruits were brought onboard. We then went on a little way, and in the evening anchored again. When going to bed for the night, I put out my candle, there being stilla glimmering lamp burning, and, missing my handkerchief, thought I sawit on a box which formed one side of my bed, and put out my hand to takeit. I quickly drew back on feeling something cool and very smooth, whichmoved as I touched it. "Bring the light, quick, " I cried; "here's asnake. " And there he was, sure enough, nicely coiled up, with his headjust raised to inquire who had disturbed him. It was mow necessaryto catch or kill him neatly, or he would escape among the piles ofmiscellaneous luggage, and we should hardly sleep comfortably. One ofthe ex-convicts volunteered to catch him with his hand wrapped up in acloth, but from the way he went about it I saw he was nervous and wouldlet the thing go, so I would mot allow him to make the attempt. I themgot a chopping-knife, and carefully moving my insect nets, which hungjust over the snake and prevented me getting a free blow, I cut himquietly across the back, holding him down while my boy with anotherknife crushed his head. On examination, I found he had large poisonfangs, and it is a wonder he did not bite me when I first touched him. Thinking it very unlikely that two snakes had got on board at the sametime, I turned in and went to sleep; but having all the time a vaguedreamy idea that I might put my hand on another one, I lay wonderfullystill, not turning over once all night, quite the reverse of my usualhabits. The next day we reached Ternate, and I ensconced myself in mycomfortable house, to examine all my treasures, and pack them securelyfor the voyage home. CHAPTER XXV. CERAM, GORAM, AND THE MATABELLO ISLANDS. (OCTOBER 1859 To JUNE 1860. ) I LEFT Amboyna for my first visit to Ceram at three o'clock in themorning of October 29th, after having been delayed several days by theboat's crew, who could not be got together. Captain Van der Beck, whogave me a passage in his boat, had been running after them all day, andat midnight we had to search for two of my men who had disappeared atthe last moment. One we found at supper in his own house, and rathertipsy with his parting libations of arrack, but the other was goneacross the bay, and we were obliged to leave without him. We stayed somehours at two villages near the east end of Amboyna, at one of which wehad to discharge some wood for the missionaries' house, and on thethird afternoon reached Captain Van der Beck's plantation, situated atHatosua, in that part of Ceram opposite to the island of Amboyna. Thiswas a clearing in flat and rather swampy forest, about twenty acresin extent, and mostly planted with cacao and tobacco. Besides a smallcottage occupied by the workmen, there was a large shed for tobaccodrying, a corner of which was offered me; and thinking from the look ofthe place that I should find good collecting ground here, I fitted uptemporary tables, benches, and beds, and made all preparations forsome weeks' stay. A few days, however, served to show that I should bedisappointed. Beetles were tolerably abundant, and I obtained plenty offine long-horned Anthribidae and pretty Longicorns, but they were mostlythe same species as I had found during my first short visit to Amboyna. There were very few paths in the forest; which seemed poor in birds andbutterflies, and day after day my men brought me nothing worth notice. I was therefore soon obliged to think about changing my locality, as Icould evidently obtain no proper notion of the productions of the almostentirely unexplored island of Ceram by staying in this place. I rather regretted leaving, because my host was one of the mostremarkable men and most entertaining companions I had ever met with. He was a Fleeting by birth, and, like so many of his countrymen, had awonderful talent for languages. When quite a youth he had accompanied aGovernment official who was sent to report on the trade and commerceof the Mediterranean, and had acquired the colloquial language of everyplace they stayed a few weeks at. He had afterwards made voyages toSt. Petersburg, and to other parts of Europe, including a few weeks inLondon, and had then come out to the past, where he had been for someyears trading and speculating in the various islands. He now spokeDutch, French, Malay, and Javanese, all equally well; English witha very slight accent, but with perfect fluency, axed a most completeknowledge of idiom, in which I often tried to puzzle him in vain. Germanand Italian were also quite familiar to him, and his acquaintancewith European languages included Modern Greek, Turkish, Russian, andcolloquial Hebrew and Latin. As a test of his power, I may mention thathe had made a voyage to the out-of-the-way island of Salibaboo, and hadstayed there trading a few weeks. As I was collecting vocabularies, he told me he thought he could remember some words, and dictatedconsiderable number. Some time after I met with a short list of wordstaken down in those islands, and in every case they agreed with thosehe had given me. He used to sing a Hebrew drinking-song, which he hadlearned from some Jews with whom he had once travelled, and astonishedby joining in their conversation, and had a never-ending fund of taleand anecdote about the people he had met and the places he had visited. In most of the villages of this part of Ceram are schools and nativeschoolmasters, and the inhabitants have been long converted toChristianity. In the larger villages there are European missionaries;but there is little or no external difference between the Christian andAlfuro villages, nor, as far as I have seen, in their inhabitants. Thepeople seem more decidedly Papuan than those of Gilolo. They are darkerin colour, and a number of them have the frizzly Papuan hair; theirfeatures also are harsh and prominent, and the women in particular arefar less engaging than those of the Malay race. Captain Van der Beck wasnever tired of abusing the inhabitants of these Christian villages asthieves, liars, and drunkards, besides being incorrigibly lazy. In thecity of Amboyna my friends Doctors Mohnike and Doleschall, as wellas most of the European residents and traders, made exactly the samecomplaint, and would rather have Mahometans for servants, even ifconvicts, than any of the native Christians. One great cause of thisis the fact, that with the Mahometans temperance is a part of theirreligion, and has become so much a habit that practically the rule isnever transgressed. One fertile source of want, and one great incentiveto idleness and crime, is thus present with the one class, but absentin the other; but besides this the Christians look upon themselves asnearly the equals of the Europeans, who profess the same religion, andas far superior to the followers of Islam, and are therefore prone todespise work, and to endeavour to live by trade, or by cultivating theirown land. It need hardly be said that with people in this low state ofcivilization religion is almost wholly ceremonial, and that neitherare the doctrines of Christianity comprehended, nor its moral preceptsobeyed. At the same time, as far as my own experience goes, I have foundthe better class of "Orang Sirani" as civil, obliging, and industriousas the Malays, and only inferior to them from their tendency to getintoxicated. Having written to the Assistant Resident of Saparua (who hasjurisdiction over the opposite part of the coast of Ceram) for a boatto pursue my journey, I received one rather larger than necessary with acrew of twenty men. I therefore bade adieu to my kind friend Captain Vander Beck, and left on the evening after its arrival for the village ofElpiputi, which we reached in two days. I had intended to stay here, butnot liking the appearance of the place, which seemed to have no virginforest near it, I determined to proceed about twelve miles furtherup the bay of Amahay, to a village recently formed, and inhabited byindigenes from the interior, and where some extensive cacao plantationswere being made by some gentlemen of Amboyna. I reached the place(called Awaiya) the same afternoon, and with the assistance of Mr. Peters (the manager of the plantations) and the native chief, obtaineda small house, got all my things on shore, and paid and dischargedmy twenty boatmen, two of whom had almost driven me to distraction bybeating tom-toms the whole voyage. I found the people here very nearly in a state of nature, and goingalmost naked. The men wear their frizzly hair gathered into a flatcircular knot over the left temple, which has a very knowing look, andin their ears cylinders of wood as thick as one's finger, and colouredred at the ends. Armlets and anklets of woven grass or of silver, withnecklaces of beads or of small fruits, complete their attire. The womenwear similar ornaments, but have their hair loose. All are tall, with adark brown skin, and well marked Papuan physiognomy. There is an Amboynaschoolmaster in the village, and a good number of children attend schoolevery morning. Such of the inhabitants as have become Christians may beknown by their wearing their hair loose, and adopting to some extent thenative Christian dress-trousers and a loose shirt. Very few speak Malay, all these coast villages having been recently formed by inducing nativesto leave the inaccessible interior. In all the central part of Ceramthere new remains only one populous village in the mountains. Towardsthe east and the extreme west are a few others, with which exceptionsall the inhabitants of Ceram are collected on the coast. In the northernand eastern districts they are mostly Mahometans, while on the southwestcoast, nearest Amboyna, they are nominal Christians. In all this part ofthe Archipelago the Dutch make very praiseworthy efforts to improvethe condition of the aborigines by establishing schoolmasters in everyvillage (who are mostly natives of Amboyna or Saparua, who have; beeninstructed by the resident missionaries), and by employing nativevaccinators to prevent the ravages of smallpox. They also encourage thesettlement of Europeans, and the formation of new plantations of cacaoand coffee, one of the best means of raising the condition of thenatives, who thus obtain work at fair wages, and have the opportunity ofacquiring something of European tastes and habits. My collections here did not progress much better than at my formerstation, except that butterflies were a little more plentiful, and somevery fine species were to be found in the morning on the sea-beach, sitting so quietly on the wet sand that they could be caught with thefingers. In this way I had many fine specimens of Papilios brought meby the children. Beetles, however, were scarce, and birds still moreso, and I began to think that the handsome species which I had so oftenheard were found in Ceram must be entirely confined to the easternextremity of the island. A few miles further worth, at the head of the Bay of Amahay, is situatedthe village of Makariki, from whence there is a native path quiteacross the island to the north coast. My friend Mr. Rosenberg, whoseacquaintance I had made at New Guinea, and who was now the Governmentsuperintendent of all this part of Ceram, returned from Wahai, on thenorth coast, after I had been three weeks at Awaiya, and showed mesome fine butterflies he had obtained on the mountain streams in theinterior. He indicated a spot about the centre of the island where hethought I might advantageously stay a few days. I accordingly visitedMakariki with him the next day, and he instructed the chief of thevillage to furnish me with men to carry my baggage, and accompany meon my excursion. As the people of the village wanted to be at home onChristmas-day, it was necessary to start as soon as possible; so weagreed that the men should be ready in two days, and I returned to makemy arrangements. I put up the smallest quantity of baggage possible for a six days'trip, and on the morning of December 18th we left Makariki, with six mencarrying my baggage and their own provisions, and a lad from Awaiya, who was accustomed to catch butterflies for me. My two Amboyna huntersI left behind to shoot and skin what birds they could while I was away. Quitting the village, we first walked briskly for an hour through adense tangled undergrowth, dripping wet from a storm of the previousnight, and full of mud holes. After crossing several small streams wereached one of the largest rivers in Ceram, called Ruatan, which it wasnecessary to cross. It was both deep and rapid. The baggage was firsttaken over, parcel by parcel, on the men's heads, the water reachingnearly up to their armpits, and then two men returned to assist me. Thewater was above my waist, and so strong that I should certainly havebeen carried off my feet had I attempted to cross alone; and it was amatter of astonishment to me how the men could give me any assistance, since I found the greatest difficulty in getting my foot down again whenI had once moved it off the bottom. The greater strength and graspingpower of their feet, from going always barefoot, no doubt gave them asurer footing in the rapid water. After well wringing out our wet clothes and putting them on, we againproceeded along a similar narrow forest track as before, choked withrotten leaves and dead trees, and in the more open parts overgrown withtangled vegetation. Another hour brought us to a smaller stream flowingin a wide gravelly bed, up which our road lay. Here w e stayed half anhour to breakfast, and then went on, continually crossing the stream, orwalking on its stony and gravelly banks, till about noon, when it becamerocky and enclosed by low hills. A little further we entered a regularmountain-gorge, and had to clamber over rocks, and every moment crossand recross the water, or take short cuts through the forest. Thiswas fatiguing work; and about three in the afternoon, the sky beingovercast, and thunder in the mountains indicating an approaching storm, we had to loon out for a camping place, and soon after reached oneof Mr. Rosenberg's old ones. The skeleton of his little sleeping-hutremained, and my men cut leaves and made a hasty roof just as therain commenced. The baggage was covered over with leaves, and the mensheltered themselves as they could till the storm was over, by whichtime a flood came down the river, which effectually stopped our furthermarch, even had we wished to proceed. We then lighted fires; I made somecoffee, and my men roasted their fish and plantains, and as soon as itwas dark, we made ourselves comfortable for the night. Starting at six the next morning, we had three hours of the same kindof walking, during which we crossed the river at least thirty or fortytimes, the water being generally knee-deep. This brought us to a placewhere the road left the stream, and here we stopped to breakfast. Wethen had a long walk over the mountain, by a tolerable path, whichreached an elevation of about fifteen hundred feet above the sea. Here Inoticed one of the smallest and most elegant tree ferns I had ever seen, the stem being scarcely thicker than my thumb, yet reaching a heightof fifteen or twenty feet. I also caught a new butterfly of the genusPieris, and a magnificent female specimen of Papilio gambrisius, ofwhich I had hitherto only found the males, which are smaller and verydifferent in colour. Descending the other side of the ridge, by a verysteep path, we reached another river at a spot which is about the centreof the island, and which was to be our resting place for two or threedays. In a couple of hour my men had built a little sleeping-shedfor me, about eight feet by four, with a bench of split poles, theythemselves occupying two or three smaller ones, which had been put up byformer passengers. The river here was about twenty yards wide, running over a pebbly andsometimes a rocky bed, and bordered by steep hills with occasionallyflat swampy spots between their base and the stream. The whole countrywas one dense, Unbroken, and very damp and gloomy virgin forest. Just atour resting-place there was a little bush-covered island in the middleof the channel, so that the opening in the forest made by the river waswider than usual, and allowed a few gleams of sunshine to penetrate. Here there were several handsome butterflies flying about, the finest ofwhich, however, escaped me, and I never saw it again during my stay. Inthe two days and a half which we remained here, I wandered almost allday up and down the stream, searching after butterflies, of which I got, in all, fifty or sixty specimens, with several species quite new tome. There were many others which I saw only once, and did not capture, causing me to regret that there was no village in these interior valleyswhere I could stay a month. In the early part of each morning I went outwith my gun in search of birds, and two of my men were out almost allday after deer; but we were all equally unsuccessful, getting absolutelynothing the whole time we were in the forest. The only good bird seenwas the fine Amboyna lory, but these were always too high to shoot;besides this, the great Moluccan hornbill, which I did not want, wasalmost the only bird met with. I saw not a single ground-thrush, orkingfisher, or pigeon; and, in fact, have never been in a forest soutterly desert of animal life as this appeared to be. Even in all othergroups of insects, except butterflies, there was the same poverty. Ibad hoped to find some rare tiger beetles, as I had done in similarsituations in Celebes; but, though I searched closely in forest, river-bed, and mountain-brook, I could find nothing but the two commonAmboyna species. Other beetles there were absolutely none. The constant walking in water, and over rocks and pebbles, quitedestroyed the two pair of shoes I brought with me, so that, on myreturn, they actually fell to pieces, and the last day I had to walkin my stockings very painfully, and reached home quite lame. On our wayback from Makariki, as on our way there, we had storm and rain at sea, and we arrived at Awaiya late in the evening, with all our baggagedrenched, and ourselves thoroughly uncomfortable. All the time I hadbeen in Ceram I had suffered much from the irritating bites of aninvisible acarus, which is worse than mosquitoes, ants, and every otherpest, because it is impossible to guard against them. This last journeyin the forest left me covered from head to foot with inflamed lumps, which, after my return to Amboyna, produced a serious disease, confiningme to the house for nearly two months, a not very pleasant memento of myfirst visit to Ceram, which terminated with the year 1859. It was not till the 24th of February, 1860, that I started again, intending to pass from village to village along the coast, staying whereI found a suitable locality. I had a letter from the Governor of theMoluccas, requesting all the chiefs to supply me with boats and men tocarry me on my journey. The first boat took me in two days to Amahay, on the opposite side of the bay to Awaiya. The chief here, wonderful torelate, did not make any excuses for delay, but immediately ordered outthe boat which was to carry me on, put my baggage on hoard, set up mastand sails after dark, and had the men ready that nigh; so that we wereactually on our way at five the next morning, --a display of energyand activity I scarcely ever saw before in a native chief on such anoccasion. We touched at Cepa, and stayed for the night at Tamilan, thefirst two Mahometan villages on the south coast of Ceram. The next day, about noon, we reached Hoya, which was as Far as my present boat andcrew were going to take me. The anchorage is about a mile east of thevillage, which is faced by coral reefs, and we had to wait for theevening tide to move up and unload the boat into the strange rottenwooden pavilion kept for visitors. There was no boat here large enough to take my baggage; and althoughtwo would have done very well, the Rajah insisted upon sending four. Thereason of this I found was, that there were four small villages underhis rule, and by sending a boat from each he would avoid the difficulttask of choosing two and letting off the others. I was told that at thenext village of Teluti there were plenty of Alfuros, and that I couldget abundance of Tories and other birds. The Rajah declared thatblack and yellow Tories and black cockatoos were found there; but I aminclined to think he knew very well he was telling me lies, and thatit was only a scheme to satisfy me with his plan of taking me to thatvillage, instead of a day's journey further on, as I desired. Here, asat most of the villages, I was asked for spirits, the people being merenominal Mahometans, who confine their religion almost entirely to adisgust at pork, and a few other forbidden articles of food. The nextmorning, after much trouble, we got our cargoes loaded, and had adelightful row across the deep bay of Teluti, with a view of the grandcentral mountain-range of Ceram. Our four boats were rowed by sixtymen, with flags flying and tom-toms beating, as well as very vigorousshouting and singing to keep up their spirits. The sea way smooth, themorning bright, and the whole scene very exhilarating. On landing, theOrang-kaya and several of the chief men, in gorgeous silk jackets, were waiting to receive us, and conducted me to a house prepared for myreception, where I determined to stay a few days, and see if the countryround produced anything new. My first inquiries were about the lories, but I could get very littlesatisfactory information. The only kinds known were the ring-necked loryand the common red and green lorikeet, both common at Amboyna. BlackTories and cockatoos were quite unknown. The Alfuros resided in themountains five or six days' journey away, and there were only one ortwo live birds to be found in the village, and these were worthless. Myhunters could get nothing but a few common birds; and notwithstandingfine mountains, luxuriant forests, and a locality a hundred mileseastward, I could find no new insects, and extremely few even of thecommon species of Amboyna and West Ceram. It was evidently no usestopping at such a place, and I was determined to move on as soon aspossible. The village of Teluti is populous, but straggling and very dirty. Sagotrees here cover the mountain side, instead of growing as usual in lowswamps; but a closer examination shows that they grow in swampy patches, which have formed among the loose rocks that cover the ground, and whichare kept constantly full of moisture by the rains, and by the abundanceof rills which trickle down among them. This sago forms almost the wholesubsistence of the inhabitants, who appear to cultivate nothing buta few small patches of maize and sweet potatoes. Hence, as beforeexplained, the scarcity of insects. The Orang-kaya has fine clothes, handsome lamps, and other expensive European goods, yet lives every dayon sago and fish as miserably as the rest. After three days in this barren place I left on the morning of March6th, in two boats of the same size as those which had brought me toTeluti. With some difficulty I had obtained permission to take theseboats on to Tobo, where I intended to stay a while, and therefore got onpretty quickly, changing men at the village of Laiemu, and arriving in aheavy rain at Ahtiago. As there was a good deal of surf here, and likelyto be more if the wind blew hard during the night, our boats werepulled up on the beach; and after supping at the Orang-kaya's house, andwriting down a vocabulary of the language of the Alfuros, who live inthe mountains inland, I returned to sleep in the boat. Next morning weproceeded, changing men at Warenama, and again at Hatometen, at both ofwhich places there was much surf and no harbour, so that the men had togo on shore and come on board by swimming. Arriving in the evening ofMarch 7th at Batuassa, the first village belonging to the Rajah of Tobo, and under the government of Banda, the surf was very heavy, owing to astrong westward swell. We therefore rounded the rocky point on which thevillage was situated, but found it very little better on the other side. We were obliged, however, to go on shore here; and waiting till thepeople on the beach had made preparations, by placing a row of logs fromthe water's edge on which to pull up our boats, we rowed as quickly aswe could straight on to them, after watching till the heaviest surfshad passed. The moment we touched ground our men all jumped out, and, assisted by those on shore, attempted to haul up the boat high and dry, but not having sufficient hands, the surf repeatedly broke into thestern. The steepness of the beach, however, prevented any damage beingdone, and the other boat having both crews to haul at it, was got upwithout difficulty. The next morning, the water being low, the breakers were at somedistance from shore, and we had to watch for a smooth moment afterbringing the boats to the water's edge, and so got safely out to sea. Atthe two next villages, Tobo and Ossong, we also took in fresh men, whocame swimming through the surf; and at the latter place the Rajah cameon board and accompanied me to Kissalaut, where he has a house whichhe lent me during my stay. Here again was a heavy surf, and it was withgreat difficulty we got the boats safely hauled up. At Amboyna I hadbeen promised at this season a calm sea and the wind off shore, but inthis case, as in every other, I had been unable to obtain any reliableinformation as to the winds and seasons of places distant two or threedays' journey. It appears, however, that owing to the general directionof the island of Ceram (E. S. E. And W. N. W. ), there is a heavy surf andscarcely any shelter on the south coast during the west monsoon, whenalone a journey to the eastward can be safely made; while during theeast monsoon, when I proposed to return along the north coast to Wahai, I should probably find that equally exposed and dangerous. But althoughthe general direction of the west monsoon in the Banda sea causes aheavy swell, with bad surf on the coast, yet we had little advantage ofthe wind; for, owing I suppose to the numerous bays and headlands, wehad contrary south-east or even due east winds all the way, and had tomake almost the whole distance from Amboyna by force of rowing. We hadtherefore all the disadvantages, and none of the advantages, of thiswest monsoon, which I was told would insure me a quick and pleasantjourney. I was delayed at Kissa-laut just four weeks, although after the firstthree days I saw that it would be quite useless for me to stay, andbegged the Rajah to give me a prau and men to carry me on to Goram. Butinstead of getting one close at hand, he insisted on sending severalmiles off; and when after many delays it at length arrived, it wasaltogether unsuitable and too small to carry my baggage. Another wasthen ordered to be brought immediately, and was promised in three days, but doable that time elapsed and none appeared, and we were obliged atlength to get one at the adjoining village, where it might have beenso much more easily obtained at first. Then came caulking and coveringover, and quarrels between the owner and the Rajah's men, whichoccupied more than another ten days, during all which time I was gettingabsolutely nothing, finding this part of Ceram a perfect desert inzoology, although a most beautiful country, and with a very luxuriantvegetation. It was a complete puzzle, which to this day I have not beenable to understand; the only thing I obtained worth notice during mymonth's stay here being a few good land shells. At length, on April 4th, we succeeded in getting away in our littleboat of about four tons burthen, in which my numerous boxes were withdifficulty packed so as to leave sleeping and cooling room. The craftcould not boast an ounce of iron or a foot of rope in any part of itsconstruction, nor a morsel of pitch or paint in its decoration. Theplanks were fastened together in the usual ingenious way with pegsand rattans. The mast was a bamboo triangle, requiring no shrouds, and carrying a long mat sail; two rudders were hung on the quarters byrattans, the anchor was of wood, and a long and thick rattan; served asa cable. Our crew consisted of four men, whose pole accommodation wasabout three feet by four in the bows and stern, with the sloping thatchroof to stretch themselves upon for a change. We had nearly a hundredmiles to go, fully exposed to the swell of the Banda sea, which issometimes very considerable; but we luckily had it calm and smooth, sothat we made the voyage in comparative comfort. On the second day we passed the eastern extremity of Ceram, formed ofa group of hummocky limestone hills; and, sailing by the islands ofKwammer and Keffing, both thickly inhabited, came in sight of the littletown of Kilwaru, which appears to rise out of the sea like a rusticVenice. This place has really a most extraordinary appearance, as not aparticle of land or vegetation can be seen, but a long way out at sea alarge village seems to float upon the water. There is of course a smallisland of several acres in extent; but the houses are built so closelyall round it upon piles in the water, that it is completely hidden. Itis a place of great traffic, being the emporium for much of the produceof these Eastern seas, and is the residence of many Bugis and Ceramesetraders, and appears to have been chosen on account of its being closeto the only deep channel between the extensive shoals of Ceram-laut andthose bordering the east end of Ceram. We now had contrary east winds, and were obliged to pole over the shallow coral reefs of Ceram-lautfor nearly thirty miles. The only danger of our voyage was just at itstermination, for as we were rowing towards Manowolko, the largest ofthe Goram group, we were carried out so rapidly by a strong westerlycurrent, that I was almost certain at one time we should pass clearof the island; in which case our situation would have been bothdisagreeable and dangerous, as, with the east wind which had just setin, we might have been unable to return for many days, and we had nota day's water on board. At the critical moment I served out some strongspirits to my men, which put fresh vigour into their arms, and carriedus out of the influence of the current before it was too late. MANOWOLKO, GORAM GROUP. On arriving at Manowolko, we found the Rajah was at the opposite islandof Goram; but he was immediately sent for, and in the meantime a largeshed was given for our accommodation. At night the Rajah came, and thenext day I had a visit from him, and found, as I expected, that I hadalready made his acquaintance three years before at Aru. He was veryfriendly, and we had a long talk; but when I begged for a boat andmen to take me on to Ke, he made a host of difficulties. There were nopraus, as all had gone to Ke or Aim; and even if one were found, therewere no men, as it was the season when all were away trading. But hepromised to see about it, and I was obliged to wait. For the next two orthree days there was more talking and more difficulties were raised, andI had time to make an examination of the island and the people. Manowolko is about fifteen miles long, and is a mere; upraisedcoral-reef. Two or three hundred yards inland rise cliffs of coral rock, in many parts perpendicular, and one or two hundred feet high; and this, I was informed, is characteristic of the whole island, in which there isno other kind of rock, and no stream of water. A few cracks and chasmsfurnish paths to the top of these cliffs, where there is an openundulating country, in which the chief vegetable grounds of theinhabitants are situated. The people here--at least the chief men--were of a much purer Malay racethan the Mahometans of the mainland of Ceram, which is perhaps due tothere having been no indigenes on these small islands when thefirst settlers arrived. In Ceram, the Alfuros of Papuan race are thepredominant type, the Malay physiognomy being seldom well marked;whereas here the reverse is the case, and a slight infusion of Papuanon a mixture of Malay and Bugis has produced a very good-looking set ofpeople. The lower class of the population consist almost entirely ofthe indigenes of the adjacent island. They are a fine race, withstrongly-marked Papuan features, frizzly hair, and brown complexions. The Goram language is spoken also at the east end of Ceram, and inthe adjacent islands. It has a general resemblance to the languages ofCeram, but possesses a peculiar element which I have not met with inother languages of the Archipelago. After great delay, considering the importance of every day at thistime of year, a miserable boat and five men were found, and withsome difficulty I stowed away in it such baggage as it was absolutelynecessary for me to take, leaving scarcely sitting or sleeping room. The sailing qualities of the boat were highly vaunted, and I was assuredthat at this season a small one was much more likely to succeed inmaking the journey. We first coasted along the island, reaching itseastern extremity the following morning (April 11th), and found astrong W. S. W. Wind blowing, which just allowed us to lay across to theMatabello Islands, a distance little short of twenty miles. I did notmuch like the look of the heavy sky and rather rough sea, and my menwere very unwilling to make the attempt; but as we could scarcely hopefor a better chance, I insisted upon trying. The pitching and jerking ofour little boat, soon reduced me to a state of miserable helplessness, and I lay down, resigned to whatever might happen. After three or fourhours, I was told we were nearly over; but when I got up, two hourslater, just as the sun was setting, I found we were still a gooddistance from the point, owing to a strong current which had been forsome time against us. Night closed in, and the wind drew more ahead, so we had to take in sail. Then came a calm, and we rowed and sailedas occasion offered; and it was four in the morning when we reached thevillage of Kisslwoi, not having made more than three miles in the lasttwelve hours. MATABELLO ISLANDS. At daylight I found we were; in a beautiful little harbour, formed by acoral reef about two hundred yards from shore, and perfectly secure inevery wind. Having eaten nothing since the previous morning, we cookedour breakfast comfortably on shore, and left about noon, coasting alongthe two islands of this group, which lie in the same line, and areseparated by a narrow channel. Both seem entirely formed of raisedcoral rock; but them has been a subsequent subsidence, as shaven by thebarrier reef which extends all along them at varying distances from theshore, This reef is sometimes only marked by a. Line of breakers whenthere is a little swell on the sea; in other places there is a ridgeof dead coral above the water, which is here and there high enough tosupport a few low bushes. This was the first example I had met with of atrue barrier reef due to subsidence, as has been so clearly shown by Mr. Darwin. In a sheltered archipelago they will seldom be distinguishable, from the absence of those huge rolling waves and breakers which inthe wide ocean throw up a barrier of broken coral far above the usualhigh-water mark, while here they rarely rise to the surface. On reaching the end of the southern island, called Uta, we were keptwaiting two days for a wind that would enable us to pass over to thenext island, Teor, and I began to despair of ever reaching Ke, anddetermined on returning. We left with a south wind, which suddenlychanged to north-east, and induced me to turn again southward in thehopes that this was the commencement of a few days' favourable weather. We sailed on very well in the direction of Teor for about an hour, after which the wind shifted to WSW. , and we were driven much out of ourcourse, and at nightfall found ourselves in the open sea, and fullten miles to leeward of our destination. My men were now all very muchfrightened, for if we went on we might be a. Week at sea in our littleopen boat, laden almost to the water's edge; or we might drift on tothe coast of New Guinea, in which case we should most likely all bemurdered. I could not deny these probabilities, and although I showedthem that we could not get back to our starting-point with the windas it was, they insisted upon returning. We accordingly put about, andfound that we could lay no nearer to Uta than to Teor; however, by greatgood luck, about ten o'clock we hit upon a little coral island, and layunder its lee till morning, when a favourable change of wind brought usback to Uta, and by evening (April 18th) we reached our first anchoragein Matabello, where I resolved to stay a few days, and then return toGoram. It way with much regret that I gave up my trip to Ke and theintervening islands, which I had looked forward to as likely to make upfor my disappointment in Ceram, since my short visit on my voyage to Aruhad produced me so many rare and beautiful insects. The natives of Matabello are almost entirely occupied in making cocoanutoil, which they sell to the Bugis and Goram traders, who carry it toBanda and Amboyna. The rugged coral rock seems very favourable to thegrowth of the cocoa-nut palm, which abounds over the whole island to thevery highest points, and produces fruit all the year round. Along withit are great numbers of the areca or betel-nut palm, the nuts of whichare sliced, dried, and ground into a paste, which is much used by thebetel-chewing Malays and Papuans. All the little children here evensuch as can just run alone, carried between their lips a mass of thenasty-looking red paste, which is even more disgusting than to see themat the same age smoking cigars, which is very common even before theyare weaned. Cocoa-nuts, sweet potatoes, an occasional sago cake, and therefuse nut after the oil has been extracted by boiling, form the chiefsustenance of these people; and the effect of this poor and unwholesomediet is seen in the frequency of eruptions and scurfy skin diseases, andthe numerous sores that disfigure the faces of the children. The villages are situated on high and rugged coral peaks, onlyaccessible by steep narrow paths, with ladders and bridges over yawningchasms. They are filthy with rotten husks and oil refuse, and the hutsare dark, greasy, and dirty in the extreme. The people are wretchedugly dirty savages, clothed in unchanged rags, and living in the mostmiserable manner, and as every drop of fresh water has to be broughtup from the beach, washing is never thought of; yet they are actuallywealthy, and have the means of purchasing all the necessaries andluxuries of life. Fowls are abundant, and eggs were given me wheneverI visited the villages, but these are never eaten, being looked uponas pets or as merchandise. Almost all of the women wear massive goldearrings, and in every village there are dozens of small bronze cannonlying about on the ground, although they have cost on the averageperhaps Ł10 a piece. The chief men of each village came to visit me, clothed in robes of silk and flowered satin, though their houses andtheir daily fare are no better than those of the ether inhabitants. Whata contrast between these people and such savages as the best tribes ofbill. Dyaks in Borneo, or the Indians of the Uaupes in South America, living on the banks of clear streams, clean in their persons and theirhouses, with abundance of wholesome food, and exhibiting its effect inhealthy shins and beauty of form and feature! There is in fact almostas much difference: between the various races of savage as of civilizedpeoples, and we may safely affirm that the better specimens of theformer are much superior to the lower examples of the latter class. One of the few luxuries of Matabello is the palm wine; which is thefermented sap from the flower stains of the cocoa-net. It is really avery mice drink, more like cyder than beer, though quite as intoxicatingas the latter. Young cocoa-nuts are also very abundant, so that anywherein the island it is only necessary to go a few yards to find a deliciousbeverage by climbing up a tree for it. It is the water of the youngfruit that is drunk, before the pulp has hardened; it is then moreabundant, clear, and refreshing, and the thin coating of gelatinous pulpis thought a treat luxury. The water of full-brown cocoa-nuts is alwaysthrown away as undrinkable, although it is delicious in comparison withthat of the old dry nuts which alone we obtain in this country. Thecocoa-nut pulp I did not like at first; but fruits are so scarce, exceptat particular seasons, that one soon learns to appreciate anything of afruity nature. Many persons in Europe are under the impression that fruits of deliciousflavour abound in the tropical forests, and they will no doubt besurprised to learn that the truly wild fruits of this brand andluxuriant archipelago, the vegetation of which will vie with that of anypart of the world, are in almost every island inferior in abundance andduality to those of Britain. Wild strawberries and raspberries are foundin some places, but they are such poor tasteless things as to be hardlyworth eating, and there is nothing to compare with our blackberries andwhortleberries. The kanary-nut may be considered equal to a hazel-nut, but I have met with nothing else superior to our crabs, oar haws, beech-nuts, wild plums, and acorns; fruits which would be highlyesteemed by the natives of these islands, and would form an importantpart of their sustenance. All the fine tropical fruits are as muchcultivated productions as our apples, peaches, and plums, and their wildprototypes, when found, are generally either tasteless or uneatable. The people of Matabello, like those of most of the Mahometan villages ofEast Ceram and Goram, amused me much by their strange ideas concerningthe Russian war. They believe that the Russians were not only mostthoroughly beaten by the Turks, but were absolutely conquered, and allconverted to Islamism! And they can hardly be convinced that such isnot the case, and that had it not been for the assistance of France andEngland, the poor Sultan world have fared ill. Another of their motionsis, that the Turks are the largest and strongest people in the world--infact a race of giants; that they eat enormous quantities of meat, andare a most ferocious and irresistible nation. Whence such strangelyincorrect opinions could have arisen it is difficult to understand, unless they are derived from Arab priests, or hadjis returned fromMecca, who may have heard of the ancient prowess of the Turkish armieswhen they made all Europe tremble, and suppose that their character andwarlike capacity must be the same at the present time. GORAM A steady south-east wind having set in, we returned to Manowolko onthe 25th of April, and the day after crossed over to Ondor, the chiefvillage of Goram. Around this island extends, with few interruptions, an encircling coralreef about a quarter of a mile from the shore, visible as a stripe ofpale green water, but only at very lowest ebb-tides showing any rockabove the surface. There are several deep entrances through this reef, and inside it there is hood anchorage in all weathers. The land risesgradually to a moderate height, and numerous small streams descend onall sides. The mere existence of these streams would prove that theisland was not entirely coralline, as in that case all the water wouldsink through the porous rock as it does at Manowolko and Matabello; butwe have more positive proof in the pebbles and stones of their beds, which exhibit a variety of stratified crystalline rocks. About a hundredyards from the beach rises a wall of coral rock, ten or twenty feethigh, above which is an undulating surface of rugged coral, which slopesdownward towards the interior, and then after a slight ascent is boundedby a second wall of coral. Similar walls occur higher up, and coral isfound on the highest part of the island. This peculiar structure teaches us that before the coral was formed landexisted in this spot; that this land sunk gradually beneath the waters, but with intervals of rest, during which encircling reef's were formedaround it at different elevations; that it then rose to above itspresent elevation, and is now again sinking. We infer this, becauseencircling reefs are a proof of subsidence; and if the island were againelevated about a hundred feet, what is now the reef and the shallow seawithin it would form a wall of coral rock, and an undulating corallineplain, exactly similar to those that still exist at various altitudes upto the summit of the island. We learn also that these changes have takenplace at a comparatively recent epoch, for the surface of the coralhas scarcely suffered from the action of the weather, and hundreds ofsea-shells, exactly resembling those still found upon the beach, andmany of them retaining their gloss and even their colour, are scatteredover the surface of the island to near its summit. Whether the Goram group formed originally part of New Guinea or of Ceramit is scarcely possible to determine, and its productions will throwlittle light upon the question, if, as I suppose, the islands have beenentirely submerged within the epoch of existing species of animals, as in that case it must owe its present fauna and flora to recentimmigration from surrounding lands; and with this view its poverty inspecies very well agrees. It possesses much in common with East Ceram, but at the same time has a good deal of resemblance to the Ke Islandsand Banda. The fine pigeon, Carpophaga concinna, inhabits Ke, Banda, Il-Iatabello, and Goram, and is replaced by a distinct species, C. Neglecta, in Ceram. The insects of these four islands have also a commonfacies--facts which seem to indicate that some more extensive land hasrecently disappeared from the area they now occupy, and has suppliedthem with a few of its peculiar productions. The Goram people (among whom I stayed a month) are a race of traders. Every year they visit the Tenimber, Ke, and Aru Islands, the wholenorth-west coast of New Guinea from Oetanata to Salwatty, and the islandof Waigiou and Mysol. They also extend their voyages to Tidore andTernate, as well as to Banda and Amboyna, Their praus are all made bythat wonderful race of boatbuilders, the Ke islanders, who annuallyturn out some hundreds of boats, large and small, which can hardly besurpassed for beauty of form and goodness of workmanship, They tradechiefly in tripang, the medicinal mussoi bark, wild nutmegs, andtortoiseshell, which they sell to the Bugis traders at Ceram-laut orAru, few of them caring to take their products to any other market. Inother respects they are a lazy race, living very poorly, and much givento opium smoking. The only native manufactures are sail-matting, coarsecotton cloth, and pandanus-leaf boxes, prettily stained and ornamentedwith shell-work. In the island of Goram, only eight or ten miles long, there are about adozen Rajahs, scarcely better off than the rest of the inhabitants, andexercising a mere nominal sway, except when any order is received fromthe Dutch Government, when, being backed by a higher power, they showa little more strict authority. My friend the Rajah of Ammer (commonlycalled Rajah of Goram) told me that a few years ago, before the Dutchhad interfered in the affairs of the island, the trade was not carriedon so peaceably as at present, rival praus often fighting when on theway to the same locality, or trafficking in the same village. Now such athing is never thought of-one of the good effects of the superintendenceof a civilized government. Disputes between villages are still, however, sometimes settled by fighting, and I one day saw about fifty men, carrying long guns and heavy cartridge-belts, march through the village. They had come from the other side of the island on some questionof trespass or boundary, and were prepared for war if peaceablenegotiations should fail. While at Manowolko I had purchased for 100 florins (Ł9. ) a small prau, which was brought over the next day, as I was informed it was moreeasy to have the necessary alterations made in Goram, where several Keworkmen were settled. As soon as we began getting my prau ready I was obliged to give upcollecting, as I found that unless I was constantly on the spot myselfvery little work would be clone. As I proposed making some long voyagesin this boat, I determined to fit it up conveniently, and was obliged todo all the inside work myself, assisted by my two Amboynese boys. Ihad plenty of visitors, surprised to see a white man at work, and muchastonished at the novel arrangements I was making in one of their nativevessels. Luckily I had a few tools of my own, including a small saw andsome chisels, and these were now severely tried, cutting and fittingheavy iron-wood planks for the flooring and the posts that support thetriangular mast. Being of the best London make, they stood the workwell, and without them it would have been impossible for me to havefinished my boat with half the neatness, or in double the time. I hada Ke workman to put in new ribs, for which I bought nails of a Bugistrader, at 8d. A pound. My gimlets were, however, too small; and havingno augers we were obliged to bore all the holes with hot irons, a mosttedious and unsatisfactory operation. Five men had engaged to work at the prau till finished, and then go withme to Mysol, Waigiou, and Ternate. Their ideas of work were, however, very different from mine, and I had immense difficulty with them; seldommore than two or three coming together, and a hundred excuses beinggiven for working only half a day when they did come. Yet they wereconstantly begging advances of money, saying they had nothing to eat. When I gave it them they were sure to stay away the next day, and when Irefused any further advances some of them declined working any more. Asthe boat approached completion my difficulties with the men increased. The uncle of one had commenced a war, or sort of faction fight, andwanted his assistance; another's wife was ill, and would not let himcome; a third had fever and ague, and pains in his head and back; anda fourth had an inexorable creditor who would not let him go out of hissight. They had all received a month's wages in advance; and though theamount was not large, it was necessary to make them pay it back, or Ishould get any men at all. I therefore sent the village constableafter two, and kept them in custody a day, when they returned aboutthree-fourths of what they owed me. The sick man also paid, and thesteersman found a substitute who was willing to take his debt, andreceive only the balance of his wages. About this time we had a striking proof of the dangers of New Guineatrading. Six men arrived at the village in a small boat almost starved, having escaped out of two praus, the remainder of whose crews (fourteenin number) had been murdered by the natives of New Guinea. The praus hadleft this village a few months before, and among the murdered men werethe Rajah's son, and the relation or slaves of many of the inhabitants. The cry of lamentation that arose when the news arrived was mostdistressing. A score of women, who had lost husbands, brothers, sons, or more distant relatives, set up at once the most dismal shrieks andgroans and wailings, which continued at intervals till late at night;and as the chief houses in the village were crowded together round thatwhich I occupied, our situation was anything but agreeable. It seems that the village where the attack took place (nearly oppositethe small island of Lakahia) is known to be dangerous, and the vesselshad only gone there a few days before to buy some tripang. The crew wereliving on shore, the praus being in a small river close by, and theywere attacked and murdered in the day-time while bargaining with thePapuans. The six men who survived were on board the praus, and escapedby at once setting into the small boat and rowing out to sea. This south-west part of New Guinea, known to the native traders as"Papua Kowiyee" and "Papua Onen, " is inhabited by the most treacherousand bloodthirsty tribes. It is in these districts that the commandersand portions of the crews of many of the early discovery ships weremurdered, and scarcely a year now passes but some lives are lost. TheGoram and Ceram traders are themselves generally inoffensive; they arewell acquainted with the character of these natives, and are not likelyto provoke an attack by any insults or open attempt at robbery orimposition. They are accustomed to visit the same places every year, andthe natives can have no fear of them, as may be alleged in excuse fortheir attacks on Europeans. In other extensive districts inhabited bythe same Papuan races, such as Mysol, Salwatty, Waigiou, and someparts of the adjacent coast, the people have taken the first step incivilization, owing probably to the settlement of traders of mixed breedamong them, and for many years no such attacks have taken place. On thesouth-west coast, and in the large island of Jobie, however, the nativesare in a very barbarous condition, and tale every opportunity of robberyand murder, --a habit which is confirmed by the impunity they experience, owing to the vast extent of wild mountain and forest country forbiddingall pursuit or attempt at punishment. In the very same village, fouryears before, more than fifty Goram men were murdered; and asthese savages obtain an immense booty in the praus and all theirappurtenances, it is to be feared that such attacks will continue to bemade at intervals as long as traders visit the same spots and attempt noretaliation. Punishment could only be inflicted on these people byvery arbitrary measures, such as by obtaining possession of some of thechiefs by stratagem, and rendering them responsible for the capture ofthe murderers at the peril of their own heads. But anything of this kindwould be done contrary to the system adopted by the Dutch Government inits dealings with natives. GORAM TO WAHAI IN CERAM. When my boat was at length launched and loaded, I got my men together, and actually set sail the next day (May 27th), much to the astonishmentof the Goram people, to whom such punctuality was a novelty. I had acrew of three men and a boy, besides my two Amboyna lads; which wassufficient for sailing, though rather too few if obliged to row much. The next day was very wet, with squalls, calms, and contrary winds, andwith some difficulty we reached Kilwaru, the metropolis of the Bugistraders in the far East. As I wanted to make some purchases, I stayedhere two days, and sent two of my boxes of specimens by a Macassar prauto be forwarded to Ternate, thus relieving myself of a considerableincumbrance. I bought knives, basins, and handkerchiefs for barter, which with the choppers, cloth, and beads I had brought with me, madea pretty good assortment. I also bought two tower muskets to satisfy mycrew, who insisted on the necessity of being armed against attacksof pirates; and with spices and a few articles of food for the voyagenearly my last doit was expended. The little island of Kilwaru is a mere sandbank, just large enough tocontain a small village, and situated between the islands of Ceram-laut, and Kissa--straits about a third of a mile wide separating it from eachof them. It is surrounded by coral reefs, and offers good anchorage inboth monsoons. Though not more than fifty yards across, and not elevatedmore than three or four feet above the highest tides, it has wells ofexcellent drinking water--a singular phenomenon, which would seemto imply deep-seated subterranean channels connecting it with otherislands. These advantages, with its situation in the centre of thePapuan trading district, lead to its being so much frequented by theBugis traders. Here the Goram men bring the produce of their littlevoyages, which they exchange for cloth, sago cakes, and opium; andthe inhabitants of all the surrounding islands visit it with the gameobject. It is the rendezvous of the praus trading to various parts ofNew Guinea, which here assort and dry their cargoes, and refit for thevoyage home. Tripang and mussoi bark are the most bulky articles ofproduce brought here, with wild nutmegs, tortoiseshell, pearls, andbirds of Paradise; in smaller quantities. The villagers of the mainlandof Ceram bring their sago, which is thus distributed to the islandsfarther east, while rice from Bali and Macassar can also be purchased ata moderate price. The Goram men come here for their supplies of opium, both for their own consumption and for barter in Mysol and Waigiou, where they have introduced it, and where the chiefs and wealthy men arepassionately fond of it. Schooners from Bali come to buy Papuan slaves, while the sea-wandering Bugis arrive from distant Singapore in theirlumbering praus, bringing thence the produce of the Chinamen'sworkshops and Kling's bazaar, as well as of the looms of Lancashire andMassachusetts. One of the Bugis traders who had arrived a few days before from Mysol, brought me news of my assistant Charles Allen, with whom he was wellacquainted, and who, he assured me; was making large collections ofbirds and insects, although he had not obtained any birds of Paradise;Silinta, where he was staying, not being a good place for them. Thiswas on the whole satisfactory, and I was anxious to reach him as soon aspossible. Leaving Kilwaru early in the morning of June 1st, with a strong eastwind we doubled the point of Ceram about noon, the heavy sea causing myprau to roll abort a good deal, to the damage of our crockery. As badweather seemed coming on, we got inside the reefs and anchored oppositethe village of Warns-warns to wait for a change. The night was very squally, and though in a good harbour we rolled andjerked uneasily; but in the morning I had greater cause for uneasinessin the discovery that our entire Goram crew had decamped, taking withthem all they possessed and a little more, and leaving us without anysmall boat in which to land. I immediately told my Amboyna men to loadand fire the muskets as a signal of distress, which was soon answeredby the village chief sending off a boat, which took me on shore. Irequested that messengers should be immediately sent to the neighbouringvillages in quest of the fugitives, which was promptly done. My prau wasbrought into a small creek, where it could securely rest in the mud atlow water, and part of a house was given me in which T could stay fora while. I now found my progress again suddenly checked, just when Ithought I had overcome my chief difficulties. As I had treated my menwith the greatest kindness, and had given them almost everything theyhad asked for, I can impute their running away only to their beingtotally unaccustomed to the restraint of a European master, and to someundefined dread of my ultimate intentions regarding them. The oldest manwas an opium smoker, and a reputed thief, but I had been obliged to takehim at the last moment as a substitute for another. I feel sure it washe who induced the others to run away, and as they knew the countrywell, and had several hours' start of us, there was little chance ofcatching them. We were here in the great sago district of East Ceram which suppliesmost of the surrounding islands with their daily bread, and during ourweek's delay I had an opportunity of seeing the whole process of makingit, and obtaining some interesting statistics. The sago tree is a palm, thicker and larger than the cocoa-nut tree, although rarely so tall, andhaving immense pinnate spiny leaves, which completely cover the trunktill it is many years old. It has a creeping root-stem like the Nipapalm, and when about ten or fifteen years of age sends up an immenseterminal spike of flowers, after which the tree dies. It grows inswamps, or in swampy hollows on the rocky slopes of hills, where itseems to thrive equally well as when exposed to the influx of salt orbrackish water. The midribs of the immense leaves form one of the mostuseful articles in these lands, supplying the place of bamboo, to whichfor many purposes they are superior. They are twelve or fifteen feetlong, and, when very fine, as thick in the lower part as a man's leg. They are very light, consisting entirely of a firm pith covered witha hard thin rind or bark. Entire houses are built of these; they formadmirable roofing-poles for thatch; split and well-supported, they dofor flooring; and when chosen of equal size, and pegged together sideby side to fill up the panels of framed wooden horses, they have a veryneat appearance, and make better walls and partitions than boards, asthey do not shrink, require no paint or varnish, and are not a quarterthe expense. When carefully split and shaved smooth they are formed intolight boards with pegs of the bark itself, and are the foundation of theleaf-covered boxes of Goram. All the insect-boxes I used in the Moluccaswere thus made at Amboyna, and when covered with stout paper inside andout, are strong, light, and secure the insect-pins remarkably well. Theleaflet of the sago folded and tied side by side on the smaller midribsform the "atap" or thatch in universal use, while the product of thetrunk is the staple food of some= hundred thousands of men. When sago is to be made, a full-grown tree is selected just before itis going to flower. It is cut down close to the ground, the leaves andleafstalks cleared away, and a broad strip of the bark taken off theupper side of the trunk. This exposes the pithy matter, which is ofa rusty colour near the bottom of the tree, but higher up pure white, about as hard as a dry apple, but with woody fibre running through itabout a quarter of an inch apart. This pith is cut or broken down into acoarse powder by means of a tool constructed for the purpose--a club ofhard and heavy wood, having a piece of sharp quartz rock firmly imbeddedinto its blunt end, and projecting about half an inch. By successiveblows of this, narrow strips of the pith are cut away, and fall downinto the cylinder formed by the bark. Proceeding steadily on, the wholetrunk is cleared out, leaving a skin not more than half an inch inthickness. This material is carried away (in baskets made ofthe sheathing bases of the leaves) to the nearest water, where awashing-machine is put up, which is composed almost entirely of the sagatree itself. The large sheathing bases of the leaves form the troughs, and the fibrous covering from the leaf-stalks of the young cocoa-nutthe strainer. Water is poured on the mass of pith, which is kneaded andpressed against the strainer till the starch is all dissolved and haspassed through, when the fibrous refuse is thrown away, and a freshbasketful put in its place. The water charged with sago starch passeson to a trough, with a depression in the centre, where the sediment isdeposited, the surplus water trickling off by a shallow outlet. When thetrough is nearly full, the mass of starch, which has a slight reddishtinge, is made into cylinders of about thirty pounds' weight, and neatlycovered with sago leaves, and in this state is sold as raw sago. Boiled with water this forms a thick glutinous mass, with a ratherastringent taste, and is eaten with salt, limes, and chilies. Sago-breadis made in large quantities, by baking it into cakes in a smallclay oven containing six or eight slits side by side, each aboutthree-quarters of an inch wide, and six or eight inches square. The rawsago is broken up, dried in the sun, powdered, and finely sifted. Theoven is heated over a clear fire of embers, and is lightly filled withthe sago-powder. The openings are then covered with a flat piece of sagobark, and in about five minutes the cakes are turned out sufficientlybaked. The hot cakes are very nice with butter, and when made with theaddition of a little sugar and grated cocoa-nut are quite a delicacy. They are soft, and something like corn-flour cakes, but leave a slightcharacteristic flavour which is lost in the refined sago we use in thiscountry. When not wanted for immediate use, they are dried for severaldays in the sun, and tied up in bundles of twenty. They will then keepfor years; they are very hard, and very rough and dry, but the peopleare used to them from infancy, and little children may be seen gnawingat them as contentedly as ours with their bread-and-butter. If dipped inwater and then toasted, they become almost as good as when fresh baked;and thus treated they were my daily substitute for bread with my coffee. Soaked and boiled they make a very good pudding or vegetable, and servedwell to economize our rice, which is sometimes difficult to get so fareast. It is truly an extraordinary sight to witness a whole tree-trunk, perhaps twenty feet long and four or five in circumference, convertedinto food with so little labour and preparation. A good-sized tree willproduce thirty tomans or bundles of thirty pounds each, and each tomanwill make sixty cakes of three to the pound. Two of these cakes are asmuch as a man can eat at one meal, and five are considered a full day'sallowance; so that, reckoning a tree to produce 1, 800 cakes, weighing600 pounds, it will supply a man with food for a whole year. The labourto produce this is very moderate. Two men will finish a tree in fivedays, and two women will bake the whole into cakes in five days more;but the raw sago will keep very well, and can be baked as wanted, sothat we may estimate that in ten days a man may produce food for thewhole year. This is on the supposition that he possesses sago trees ofhis own, for they are now all private property. If he does not, he hasto pay about seven and sixpence for one; and as labour here is fivepence a day, the total cost of a year's food for one man is abouttwelve shillings. The effect of this cheapness of food is decidedlyprejudicial, for the inhabitants of the sago countries are never sowell off as those where rice is cultivated. Many of the people here haveneither vegetables nor fruit, but live almost entirely on sago and alittle fish. Having few occupations at home, they wander about on pettytrading or fishing expeditions to the neighbouring islands; and as faras the comforts of life are concerned, are much inferior to the wildhill-Dyaks of Borneo, or to many of the more barbarous tribes of theArchipelago. The country round Warus-warus is low and swampy, and owing to theabsence of cultivation there were scarcely any paths leading into theforest. I was therefore unable to collect much during my enforced stay, and found no rare birds or insects to improve my opinion of Ceram asa collecting ground. Finding it quite impossible to get men here toaccompany me on the whole voyage, I was obliged to be content with acrew to take me as far as Wahai, on the middle of the north coast ofCeram, and the chief Dutch station in the island. The journey tookus five days, owing to calms and light winds, and no incident of anyinterest occurred on it, nor did I obtain at our stopping places asingle addition to my collections worth naming. At Wahai, which Ireached on the 15th of June, I was hospitably received by the Commandantand my old friend Herr Rosenberg, who was now on an official visit here. He lent me some money to pay my men, and I was lucky enough to obtainthree others willing to make the voyage with me to Ternate, and one morewho was to return from Mysol. One of my Amboyna lads, however, left me, so that I was still rather short of hands. I found here a letter from Charles Allen, who was at Silinta in Mysol, anxiously expecting me, as he was out of rice and other necessaries, andwas short of insect-pins. He was also ill, and if I did not soon comewould return to Wahai. As my voyage from this place to Waigiou was among islands inhabited bythe Papuan race, and was an eventful and disastrous one, I will narrateits chief incidents in a separate chapter in that division of my workdevoted to the Papuan Islands. I now have to pass over a year spent inWaigiou and Timor, in order to describe my visit to the island of Bouru, which concluded my explorations of the Moluccas. CHAPTER XXVI. BOURU. MAY AND JUNE 1861. I HAD long wished to visit the large island of Bouru, which lies duewest of Ceram, and of which scarcely anything appeared to be knownto naturalists, except that it contained a babirusa very like that ofCelebes. I therefore made arrangements for staying there two monthsafter leaving Timor Delli in 1861. This I could conveniently do by meansof the Dutch mail-steamers, which make a monthly round of the Moluccas. We arrived at the harbour of Cajeli on the 4th of May; a gun was fired, the Commandant of the fort came alongside in a native boat to receivethe post-packet, and took me and my baggage on shore, the steamer goingoff again without coming to an anchor. We went to the horse of theOpzeiner, or overseer, a native of Amboyna--Bouru being too poor a placeto deserve even an Assistant Resident; yet the appearance of the villagewas very far superior to that of Delli, which possesses "His Excellencythe Governor, " and the little fort, in perfect order, surrounded by neatbrass-plots and straight walks, although manned by only a dozen Javanesesoldiers with an Adjutant for commander, was a very Sebastopol incomparison with the miserable mud enclosure at Delli, with its numerousstaff of Lieutenants, Captain, and Major. Yet this, as well as mostof the forts in the Moluccas, was originally built by the Portuguesethemselves. Oh! Lusitania, how art thou fallen! While the Opzeiner was reading his letters, I took a walk roundthe village with a guide in search of a horse. The whole place wasdreadfully damp and muddy, being built in a swamp with not a spot ofground raised a foot above it, and surrounded by swamps on every side. The houses were mostly well built, of wooden framework filled in withgaba-gaba (leaf-stems of the sago-palm), but as they had no whitewash, and the floors were of bare black earth like the roads, and generally onthe same level, they were extremely damp and gloomy. At length I foundone with the floor raised about a foot, and succeeded in making abargain with the owner to turn out immediately, so that by night I hadinstalled myself comfortably. The chairs and tables were left for me;and as the whole of the remaining furniture in the house consisted of alittle crockery and a few clothes-boxes, it was not much trouble for theowners to move into the house of some relatives, and thus obtain afew silver rupees very easily. Every foot of ground between the homesthroughout the village is crammed with fruit trees, so that the sun andair have no chance of penetrating. This must be very cool and pleasantin the dry season, but makes it damp and unhealthy at other times of theyear. Unfortunately I had come two months too soon, for the rains werenot yet over, and mud and water were the prominent features of thecountry. About a mile behind and to the east of the village the hills commence, but they are very barren, being covered with scanty coarse grass andscattered trees of the Melaleuca cajuputi, from the leaves of which thecelebrated cajeput oil is made. Such districts are absolutely destituteof interest for the zoologist. A few miles further on rose highermountains, apparently well covered with forest, but they were entirelyuninhabited and trackless, and practically inaccessible to a travellerwith limited time and means. It became evident, therefore, that I mustleave Cajeli for some better collecting ground, and finding a man whowas going a few miles eastward to a village on the coast where he saidthere were hills and forest, I sent my boy Ali with him to explore andreport on the capabilities of the district. At the same time I arrangedto go myself on a little excursion up a river which flows into the bayabout five miles north of the town, to a village of the Alfuros, orindigenes, where I thought I might perhaps find a good collectingground. The Rajah of Cajeli, a good-tempered old man, offered to accompany me, as the village was under his government; and we started one morningearly, in a long narrow boat with eight rowers. In about two hourswe entered the river, and commenced our inland journey against a verypowerful current. The stream was about a hundred yards wide, andwas generally bordered with high grass, and occasionally bushes andpalm-trees. The country round was flat and more or less swampy, withscattered trees and shrubs. At every bend we crossed the river to avoidthe strength of the current, and arrived at our landing-place aboutfour o'clock in a torrent of rain. Here we waited for an hour, crouchingunder a leaky mat till the Alfuros arrived who had been sent for fromthe village to carry my baggage, when we set off along a path of whoseextreme muddiness I had been warned before starting. I turned up my trousers as high as possible, grasped a stoat stick toprevent awkward falls, and then boldly plunged into the first mud-hole, which was immediately succeeded by another and another. The marl or mudand water was knee-deep with little intervals of firmer ground between, making progression exceedingly difficult. The path was bordered withhigh rigid grass, brewing in dense clumps separated by water, so thatnothing was to be gained by leaving the beaten track, and we wereobliged to go floundering on, never knowing where our feet would rest, as the mud was now a few inches, now two feet deep, and the bottomvery uneven, so that the foot slid down to the lowest part, and madeit difficult to keep one's balance. One step would be upon a concealedstick or log, almost dislocating the ankle, while the next would plungeinto soft mud above the knee. It rained all the way, and the long grass, six feet high, met over the path; so that we could not see a step of theway ahead, and received a double drenching. Before we got to the villageit was dark, and we had to cross over a small but deep and swollenstream by a narrow log of wood, which was more than a foot under water. There was a slender shaking stick for a handrail, and it was nervouswork feeling in the dark in the rushing water for a safe place on whichto place the advanced foot. After au hour of this most disagreeableand fatiguing walk we reached the village, followed by the men withour guns, ammunition, boxes, and bedding all more or less soaked. Weconsoled ourselves with some hot tea and cold fowl, and went early tobed. The next morning was clear and fine, and I set out soon after sunrise toexplore the neighbourhood. The village had evidently been newly formed, and consisted of a single straight street of very miserable huts totallydeficient in every comfort, and as bare and cheerless inside as out. Itwas situated on a little elevated patch of coarse gravelly soil, coveredwith the usual high rigid grass, which came up close to the backs ofthe houses. At a short distance in several directions were patches offorest, but all on low and swampy ground. I made one attempt along theonly path I could find, but soon came upon a deep mud-hole, and foundthat I must walk barefoot if at all; so I returned and deferred furtherexploration till after breakfast. I then went on into the jungle andfound patches of sago-palms and a low forest vegetation, but the pathswere everywhere full of mud-holes, and intersected by muddy streamsand tracts of swamp, so that walking was not pleasurable, and too muchattention to one's steps was not favourable to insect catching, whichrequires above everything freedom of motion. I shot a few birds, and caught a few butterflies, but all were the same as I had alreadyobtained about Cajeli. On my return to the village I was told that the same kind of groundextended for many miles in every direction, and I at once decided thatWayapo was not a suitable place to stay at. The next morning early wewaded back again through the mud and long wet grass to our boat, andby mid-day reached Cajeli, where I waited Ali's return to decide on myfuture movements. He came the following day, and gave a very bad accountof Pelah, where he had been. There was a little brush and trees alongthe beach, and hills inland covered with high grass and cajuputitrees--my dread and abhorrence. On inquiring who could give metrustworthy information, I was referred to the Lieutenant of theBurghers, who had travelled all round the island, and was a veryintelligent fellow. I asked him to tell me if he knew of any part ofBouru where there was no "kusu-kusu, " as the coarse grass of the countryis called. He assured me that a good deal of the south coast was forestland, while along the north was almost entirely swamp and grassy hills. After minute inquiries, I found that the forest country commenced at aplace called Waypoti, only a few miles beyond Pelah, but that, as thecoast beyond that place was exposed to the east monsoon and dangerousfor praus, it was necessary to walk. I immediately went to the Opzeiner, and he called the Rajah. We had a consultation, and arranged for a boatto take me the next evening but one, to Pelah, whence I was to proceedon foot, the Orang-kaya going the day before to call the Alfuros tocarry my baggage. The journey was made as arranged, and on May 19th we arrived at Waypoti, having walked about ten miles along the beach, and through stony forestbordering the sea, with occasional plunges of a mile or two into theinterior. We found no village, but scattered houses and plantations, with hilly country pretty well covered with forest, and looking ratherpromising. A low hut with a very rotten roof, showing the sky through inseveral places, was the only one I could obtain. Luckily it did not rainthat night, and the next day we pulled down some of the walls to repairthe roof, which was of immediate importance, especially over our bedsand table. About half a mile from the house was a fine mountain stream, runningswiftly over a bed of rocks and pebbles, and beyond this was a hillcovered with fine forest. By carefully picking my way I could wadeacross this river without getting much above my knees, although I wouldsometimes slip off a rock and go into a hole up to my waist, andabout twice a week I went across it in order to explore the forest. Unfortunately there were no paths here of any extent, and it didnot prove very productive either in insects or birds. To add to mydifficulties I had stupidly left my only pair of strong hoots on boardthe steamer, and my others were by this time all dropping to pieces, so that I was obliged to walk about barefooted, and in constant fear ofhurting my feet, and causing a wound which might lay me up for weeks, as had happened in Borneo, Are, and Dorey. Although there were numerousplantations of maize and plantains, there were no new clearings; and aswithout these it is almost impossible to find many of the best kindsof insects, I determined to make one myself, and with much difficultyengaged two men to clear a patch of forest, from which I hoped to obtainmany fine beetles before I left. During the whole of my stay, however, insects never became plentiful. Myclearing produced me a few fine, longicorns and Buprestidae, differentfrom any I had before seen, together with several of the Amboynaspecies, but by no means so numerous or, so beautiful as I had found inthat small island. For example, I collected only 210 different kindsof beetles during my two months' stay at Bourn, while in three weeksat Amboyna, in 1857, I found more than 300 species: One of the finestinsects found at Bouru was a large Cerambyx, of a deep shining chestnutcolour, and with very long antennae. It varied greatly in size, thelargest specimens being three inches long, while the smallest were onlyan inch, the antenna varying from one and a half to five inches. One day my boy Ali came home with a story of a big snake. He was walkingthrough some high grass, and stepped on something which he took for asmall fallen tree, but it felt cold and yielding to his feet, and farto the right and left there was a waving and rustling of the herbage. Hejumped back in affright and prepared to shoot, but could not get a goodvies of the creature, and it passed away, he said, like a tree beingdragged along through the grass. As he lead several times already shotlarge snakes, which he declared were all as nothing compared withthis, I am inclined to believe it must really have been a monster. Suchcreatures are rather plentiful here, for a man living close by showedme on his thigh the marks where he had been seized by one close to hishouse. It was big enough to take the man's thigh in its mouth, and hewould probably have been killed and devoured by it had not his criesbrought out his neighbours, who destroyed it with their choppers. Asfar as I could make out it was about twenty feet long, but Ali's wasprobably much larger. It sometimes amuses me to observe how, a few days after I have takenpossession of it, a native hut seems quite a comfortable home. My houseat Waypoti was a bare shed, with a large bamboo platform at one side. Atone end of this platform, which was elevated about three feet, I fixedup my mosquito curtain, and partly enclosed it with a large Scotchplaid, making a comfortable little sleeping apartment. I put up arude table on legs buried in the earthen floor, and had my comfortablerattan-chair for a seat. A line across one corner carried mydaily-washed cotton clothing, and on a bamboo shelf was arranged mysmall stock of crockery and hardware: Boxes were ranged against thethatch walls, and hanging shelves, to preserve my collections from antswhile drying, were suspended both without and within the house. On mytable lay books, penknives, scissors, pliers, and pins, with insect andbird labels, all of which were unsolved mysteries to the native mind. Most of the people here had never seen a pin, and the betterinformed took a pride in teaching their more ignorant companions thepeculiarities and uses of that strange European production--a needlewith a head, but no eye! Even paper, which we throw away hourly asrubbish, was to them a curiosity; and I often saw them picking up littlescraps which had been swept out of the house, and carefully puttingthem away in their betel-pouch. Then when I took my morning coffee andevening tea, how many were the strange things displayed to them! Teapot, teacups, teaspoons, were all more or less curious in their eyes; tea, sugar, biscuit, and butter, were articles of human consumption seenby many of them for the first time. One asks if that whitish powder is"gula passir" (sand-sugar), so called to distinguish it from the coarselump palm-sugar or molasses of native manufacture; and the biscuit isconsidered a sort of European sago-cake, which the inhabitants of thoseremote regions are obliged to use in the absence of the genuine article. My pursuit, were of course utterly beyond their comprehension. Theycontinually asked me what white people did with the birds and insects Itools so much care to preserve. If I only kept what was beautiful, theymight perhaps comprehend it; but to see ants and files and small uglyinsects put away so carefully was a great puzzle to them, and they wereconvinced that there must be some medical or magical use for themwhich I kept a profound secret. These people were in fact as completelyunacquainted with civilized life as the Indians of the Rocky Mountains, or the savages of Central Africa--yet a steamship, that highest triumphof human ingenuity, with its little floating epitome of Europeancivilization, touches monthly at Cajeli, twenty miles off; while atAmboyna, only sixty miles distant, a European population and governmenthave been established for more than three hundred years. Having seen a good many of the natives of Bouru from different villages, and from distant parts of the island, I feel convinced that they consistof two distinct races now partially amalgamated. The larger portion areMalays of the Celebes type, often exactly similar to the Tomórepeople of East Celebes, whom I found settled in Batchian; while othersaltogether resemble the Alfuros of Ceram. The influx of two races can easily be accounted for. The Sula Islands, which are closely connected with East Celebes, approach to within fortymiles of the north coast of Bouru, while the island of Manipa offers aneasy point of departure for the people of Ceram. I was confirmed inthis view by finding that the languages of Bouru possessed distinctresemblances to that of Sula, as well as to those of Ceram. Soon after we had arrived at Waypoti, Ali had seen a beautiful littlebird of the genus Pitta, which I was very anxious to obtain, as inalmost every island the species are different, and none were yet knownfrom Bourn. He and my other hunter continued to see it two or threetimes a week, and to hear its peculiar note much oftener, but couldnever get a specimen, owing to its always frequenting the most densethorny thickets, where only hasty glimpses of it could be obtained, andat so short a distance that it would be difficult to avoid blowingthe bird to pieces. Ali was very much annoyed that he could not get aspecimen of this bird, in going after which he had already severely, wounded his feet with thorns; and when we had only two days more tostay, he went of his own accord one evening to sleep at a little butin the forest some miles off, in order to have a last try for it atdaybreak, when many birds come out to feed, and are very intent on theirmorning meal. The next evening he brought me home two specimens, onewith the head blown completely off, and otherwise too much injured topreserve, the other in very good order, and which I at once saw to bea new species, very like the Pitta celebensis, but ornamented with asquare patch of bright red on the nape of the neck. The next day after securing this prize we returned to Cajeli, andpacking up my collections left Bouru by the steamer. During our twodays' stay at Ternate, I took on board what baggage I had left there, and bade adieu to all my friends. We then crossed over to Menado, onour way to Macassar and Java, and I finally quitted the Moluccas, amongwhose luxuriant and beautiful islands I had wandered for more than threeyears. My collections in Bouru, though not extensive, were of considerableinterest; for out of sixty-six species of birds which I collected there, no less than seventeen were new, or had not been previously found in anyisland of the Moluccas. Among these were two kingfishers, Tanysipteraacis and Ceyx Cajeli; a beautiful sunbird, Nectarines proserpina; ahandsome little black and white flycatcher, Monarcha loricata, whoseswelling throat was beautifully scaled with metallic blue; and severalof less interest. I also obtained a skull of the babirusa, one specimenof which was killed by native hunters during my residence at Cajeli. CHAPTER XXVII. THE NATURAL HISTORY OF THE MOLUCCAS. THE Moluccas consist of three large islands, Gilolo, Ceram, and Bouru, the two former being each about two hundred miles long; and a greatnumber of smaller isles and islets, the most important of which areBatchian, Morty, Obi, Ke, Timor-Laut, and Amboyna; and among the smallerones, Ternate, Tidore, Kaióa, and Banda. They occupy a space of tendegrees of latitude by eight of longitude, and they are connected bygroups of small islets to New Guinea on the east, the Philippines on thenorth, Celebes on the west, and Timor on the south. It will be as wellto bear in mind these main features of extent and geographical position, while we survey their animal productions and discuss their relationsto the countries which surround them on every side in almost equalproximity. We will first consider the Mammalia or warm-blooded quadrupeds, which present us with some singular anomalies. The land mammals areexceedingly few in number, only ten being yet known from the entiregroup. The bats or aerial mammals, on the other hand, are numerous--notless than twenty-five species being already known. But even thisexceeding poverty of terrestrial mammals does not at all represent thereal poverty of the Moluccas in this class of animals; for, as we shallsoon see, there is good reason to believe that several of the specieshave been introduced by man, either purposely or by accident. The only quadrumanous animal in the group is the curious baboon-monkey, Cynopithecus nigrescens, already described as being one of thecharacteristic animals of Celebes. This is found only in the island ofBatchian; and it seems so much out of place there as it is difficultto imagine how it could have reached the island by any natural meansof dispersal, and yet not have passed by the same means over the narrowstrait to Gilolo--that it seems more likely to have originated fromsome individuals which had escaped from confinement, these and similaranimals being often kept as pets by the Malays, and carried about intheir praus. Of all the carnivorous animals of the Archipelago the only one found inthe Moluccas is the Viverra tangalunga, which inhabits both Batchian andBouru, and probably come of the other islands. I am inclined to thinkthat this also may have been introduced accidentally, for it is oftenmade captive by the Malays, who procure civet from it, and it is ananimal very restless and untameable, and therefore likely to escape. This view is rendered still more probable by what Antonio de Morga tellsus was the custom in the Philippines in 1602. He says that "the nativesof Mindanao carry about civet-cats in cages, and sell them in theislands; and they take the civet from them, and let them go again. " Thesame species is common in the Philippines and in all the large islandsof the Indo-Malay region. The only Moluccan ruminant is a deer, which was once supposed to be adistinct species, but is now generally considered to be a slight varietyof the Rusa hippelaphus of Java. Deer are often tamed and petted, andtheir flesh is so much esteemed by all Malays, that it is very naturalthey should endeavour to introduce them into the remote islands in whichthey settled, and whose luxuriant forests seem so well adapted for theirsubsistence. The strange babirusa of Celebes is also found in Bouru; but in no otherMoluccan island, and it is somewhat difficult to imagine how it gotthere. It is true that there is some approximation between the birds ofthe Sula Islands (where the babirusa is also found) and those of Bouru, which seems to indicate that these islands have recently been closertogether, or that some intervening land has disappeared. At this timethe babirusa may have entered Bouru, since it probably swims as well asits allies the pigs. These are spread all over the Archipelago, evento several of the smaller islands, and in many cases the species arepeculiar. It is evident, therefore, that they have some natural meansof dispersal. There is a popular idea that pigs cannot swim, but SirCharles Lyell has shown that this is a mistake. In his "Principles ofGeology" (10th Edit. Vol. Ii p. 355) he adduces evidence to show thatpigs have swum many miles at sea, and are able to swim with great easeand swiftness. I have myself seen a wild pig swimming across the arm ofthe sea that separates Singapore from the Peninsula of Malacca, and wethus have explained the curious fact, that of all the large mammals ofthe Indian region, pigs alone extend beyond the Moluccas and as far asNew Guinea, although it is somewhat curious that they have not foundtheir way to Australia. The little shrew, Sorex myosurus, which is common in Sumatra, Borneo, and Java, is also found in the larger islands of the Moluccas, to whichit may have been accidentally conveyed in native praus. This completes the list of the placental mammals which are socharacteristic of the Indian region; and we see that, with the singleexception of the pig, all may very probably have been introduced byman, since all except the pig are of species identical with those nowabounding in the great Malay islands, or in Celebes. The four remaining mammals are Marsupials, an order of the classMammalia, which is very characteristic of the Australian fauna; andthese are probably true natives of the Moluccas, since they are eitherof peculiar species, or if found elsewhere are natives only of NewGuinea or North Australia. The first is the small flying opossum, Belideus ariel, a beautiful little animal, exactly line a small flyingsquirrel in appearance, but belonging to the marsupial order. The otherthree are species of the curious genus Cuscus, which is peculiar tothe Austro-Malayan region. These are opossum-like animals, with a longprehensile tail, of which the terminal half is generally bare. They havesmall heads, large eyes, and a dense covering of woolly fur, which isoften pure white with irregular black spots or blotches, or sometimesashy brown with or without white spots. They live in trees, feedingupon the leaves, of which they devour large quantities, they move aboutslowly, and are difficult to kill, owing to the thickness of their fur, and their tenacity of life. A heavy charge of shot will often lodge inthe slain and do them no harm, and even breaking the spine or piercingthe brain will not kill them for some hours. The natives everywhereeat their flesh, and as their motions are so slow, easily catch them byclimbing; so that it is wonderful they have not been exterminated. Itmay be, however, that their dense woolly fur protects them from birds ofprey, and the islands they live in are too thinly inhabited for man tobe able to exterminate them. The figure represents Cuscus ornatus, a newspecies discovered by me in Batchian, and which also inhabits Ternate. It is peculiar to the Moluccas, while the two other species whichinhabit Ceram are found also in New Guinea and Waigiou. In place of the excessive poverty of mammals which characterises theMoluccas, we have a very rich display of the feathered tribes. Thenumber of species of birds at present known from the various islands ofthe Molluccan group is 265, but of these only 70 belong to the usuallyabundant tribes of the waders and swimmers, indicating that these arevery imperfectly known. As they are also pre-eminently wanderers, andare thus little fitted for illustrating the geographical distribution oflife in a limited area, we will here leave them out of consideration andconfine our attention only to the 195 land birds. When we consider that all Europe, with its varied climate andvegetation, with every mile of its surface explored, and with theimmense extent of temperate Asia and Africa, which serve as storehouses, from which it is continually recruited, only supports 251 species ofland birds as residents or regular immigrants, we must look upon thenumbers already procured in the small and comparatively unknown islandsof the Moluccas as indicating a fauna of fully average richness in thisdepartment. But when we come to examine the family groups which go tomake up this number, we find the most curious deficiencies in some, balanced by equally striking redundancy in other. Thus if we comparethe birds of the Moluccas with those of India, as given in Mr. Jerdon'swork, we find that the three groups of the parrots, kingfishers, andpigeons, form nearly _one-third_ of the whole land-birds in the former, while they amount to only _one-twentieth_ in the latter country. Onthe other hand, such wide-spread groups as the thrushes, warblers, andfinches, which in India form nearly _one-third_ of all the land-birds, dwindle down in the Moluccas to _one-fourteenth. _ The reason of these peculiarities appears to be, that the Moluccanfauna has been almost entirely derived from that of New Guinea, in whichcountry the same deficiency and the same luxuriance is to be observed. Out of the seventy-eight genera in which the Moluccan land-birds may beclassed, no less than seventy are characteristic of Yew Guinea, whileonly six belong specially to the Indo-Malay islands. But this closeresemblance to New Guinea genera does not extend to the species, forno less than 140 out of the 195 land-birds are peculiar to the Moluccanislands, while 32 are found also in New Guinea, and 15 in the Indo-Malayislands. These facts teach us, that though the birds of this group haveevidently been derived mainly from New Guinea, yet the immigration hasnot been a recent one, since there has been time for the greater portionof the species to have become changed. We find, also, that many verycharacteristic New Guinea forms lave not entered the Moluccas at all, while others found in Ceram and Gilolo do not extend so far west asBouru. Considering, further, the absence of most of the New Guineamammals from the Moluccas, we are led to the conclusion that theseislands are not fragments which have been separated from New Guinea, butform a distinct insular region, which has been upheaved independently ata rather remote epoch, and during all the mutations it has undergonehas been constantly receiving immigrants from that great and productiveisland. The considerable length of time the Moluccas have remainedisolated is further indicated by the occurrence of two peculiar generaof birds, Semioptera and Lycocorax, which are found nowhere else. We are able to divide this small archipelago into two well markedgroups--that of Ceram, including also Bouru. Amboyna, Banda, and Ke; andthat of Gilolo, including Morty, Batchian, Obi, Ternate, and other smallislands. These divisions have each a considerable number of peculiarspecies, no less than fifty-five being found in the Ceram group only;and besides this, most of the separate islands have some speciespeculiar to themselves. Thus Morty island has a peculiar kingfisher, honeysucker, and starling; Ternate has a ground-thrush (Pitta) anda flycatcher; Banda has a pigeon, a shrike, and a Pitta; Ke has twoflycatchers, a Zosterops, a shrike, a king-crow and a cuckoo; and theremote Timor-Laut, which should probably come into the Moluccan group, has a cockatoo and lory as its only known birds, and both are ofpeculiar species. The Moluccas are especially rich in the parrot tribe, no less thantwenty-two species, belonging to ten genera, inhabiting them. Amongthese is the large red-crested cockatoo, so commonly seen alive inEurope, two handsome red parrots of the genus Eclectus, and five of thebeautiful crimson lories, which are almost exclusively confined to theseislands and the New Guinea group. The pigeons are hardly less abundantor beautiful, twenty-one species being known, including twelve of thebeautiful green fruit pigeons, the smaller kinds of which areornamented with the most brilliant patches of colour on the head andthe under-surface. Next to these come the kingfishers, including sixteenspecies, almost all of which are beautiful, end many are among the mostbrilliantly-coloured birds that exist. One of the most curious groups of birds, the Megapodii, or mound-makers, is very abundant in the Moluccas. They are gallinaceous birds, about thesize of a small fowl, and generally of a dark ashy or sooty colour, and they have remarkably large and strong feet and long claws. They areallied to the "Maleo" of Celebes, of which an account has already beengiven, but they differ in habits, most of these birds frequenting thescrubby jungles along the sea-shore, where the soil is sandy, and thereis a considerable quantity of debris, consisting of sticks, shells, seaweed, leaves, &c. Of this rubbish the Megapodius forms immensemounds, often six or eight feet high and twenty or thirty feet indiameter, which they are enabled to do with comparative ease, by meansof their large feet, with which they can grasp and throw backwards aquantity of material. In the centre of this mound, at a depth of two orthree feet, the eggs are deposited, and are hatched by the gentle heatproduced by the fermentation of the vegetable matter of the mound. When I first saw these mounds in the island of Lombock, I could hardlybelieve that they were made by such small birds, but I afterwards metwith them frequently, and have once or twice come upon the birds engagedin making them. They run a few steps backwards, grasping a quantity ofloose material in one foot, and throw it a long way behind them. Whenonce properly buried the eggs seem to be no more cared for, the youngbirds working their way up through the heap of rubbish, and running offat once into the forest. They come out of the egg covered with thickdowny feathers, and have no tail, although the wings are full developed. I was so fortunate as to discover a new species (Megapodius wallacei), which inhibits Gilolo, Ternate, and Bouru. It is the handsomest bird ofthe genus, being richly banded with reddish brown on the back and wings;and it differs from the other species in its habits. It frequents theforests of the interior, and comes down to the sea-beach to deposit itseggs, but instead of making a mound, or scratching a hole to receivethem, it burrows into the sand to the depth of about three feetobliquely downwards, and deposits its eggs at the bottom. It thenloosely covers up the mouth of the hole, and is said by the natives toobliterate and disguise its own footmarks leading to and from the hole, by making many other tracks and scratches in the neighbourhood. It laysits eggs only at night, and at Bouru a bird was caught early one morningas it was coming out of its hole, in which several eggs were found. Allthese birds seem to be semi-nocturnal, for their loud wailing cries maybe constantly heard late into the night and long before daybreak in themorning. The eggs are all of a rusty red colour, and very large for thesize of the bird, being generally three or three and a quarter incheslong, by two or two and a quarter wide. They are very good eating, andare much sought after by the natives. Another large and extraordinary bird is the Cassowary, which inhabitsthe island of Ceram only. It is a stout and strong bird, standing fiveor six feet high, and covered with long coarse black hair-like feathers. The head is ornamented with a large horny calque or helmet, and the bareskin of the neck is conspicuous with bright blue and red colours. Thewings are quite absent, and are replaced by a group of horny blackspines like blunt porcupine quills. These birds wander about the vast mountainous forests that cover theisland of Ceram, feeding chiefly on fallen fruits, and on insects orcrustacea. The female lays from three to five large and beautifullyshagreened green eggs upon a bed of leaves, the male and female sittingupon them alternately for about a month. This bird is the helmetedcassowary (Casuarius galeatus) of naturalists, and was for a long timethe only species known. Others have since been discovered in New Guinea, New Britain, and North Australia. It was in the Moluccas that I first discovered undoubted cases of"mimicry" among birds, and these are so curious that I must brieflydescribe them. It will be as well, however, first to explain what ismeant by mimicry in natural history. At page 205 of the first volume ofthis work, I have described a butterfly which, when at rest, so closelyresembles a dead leaf, that it thereby escape the attacks of itsenemies. This is termed a "protective resemblance. " If however thebutterfly, being itself savoury morsel to birds, had closely resembledanother butterfly which was disagreeable to birds, and therefore nevereaten by them, it would be as well protected as if it resembled a leaf;and this is what has been happily termed "mimicry" by Mr. Bates, whofirst discovered the object of these curious external imitations of oneinsect by another belonging to a distinct genus or family, and sometimeseven to a distinct order. The clear-winged moth which resemble wasps andhornets are the best examples of "mimicry" in our own country. For a long time all the known cases of exact resemblance of one creatureto quite a different one were confined to insects, and it was thereforewith great pleasure that I discovered in the island of Bouru two birdswhich I constantly mistook for each other, and which yet belonged to twodistinct and somewhat distant families. One of these is a honeysuckernamed Tropidorhynchus bouruensis, and the other a kind of oriole, whichhas been called Mimeta bouruensis. The oriole resembles the honeysuckerin the following particulars: the upper and under surfaces of thetwo birds are exactly of the same tints of dark and light brown; theTropidorhynchus has a large bare black patch round the eyes; this iscopied in the Mimeta by a patch of black feathers. The top of thehead of the Tropidorhynchus has a scaly appearance from the narrowscale-formed feathers, which are imitated by the broader feathers ofthe Mimeta having a dusky line down each. The Tropidorhynchus has a paleruff formed of curious recurved feathers on the nape (which has giventhe whole genus the name of Friar birds); this is represented in theMimeta by a pale band in the same position. Lastly, the bill of theTropidorhynchus is raised into a protuberant keel at the base, and theMimeta has the same character, although it is not a common one in thegenus. The result is, that on a superficial examination the birds areidentical, although they leave important structural differences, andcannot be placed near each other in any natural arrangement. In the adjacent island of Ceram we find very distinct species of boththese genera, and, strange to say, these resemble each other quite asclosely as do those of Bouru The Tropidorhynchus subcornutus is of anearthy brown colour, washed with ochreish yellow, with bare orbits, dusky: cheeks, and the usual recurved nape-ruff: The Mimeta forsteniwhich accompanies it, is absolutely identical in the tints of everypart of the body, and the details are copied just as minutely as in theformer species. We have two kinds of evidence to tell us which bird in this case is themodel, and which the copy. The honeysuckers are coloured in a mannerwhich is very general in the whole family to which they belong, whilethe orioles seem to have departed from the gay yellow tints so commonamong their allies. We should therefore conclude that it is the latterwho mimic the former. If so, however, they must derive some advantagefrom the imitation, and as they are certainly weak birds, with smallfeet and claws, they may require it. Now the Tropidorhynchi are verystrong and active birds, having powerful grasping claws, and long, curved, sharp beaks. They assemble together in groups and small flocks, and they haw a very loud bawling note which can be heard at a greatdistance, and serves to collect a number together in time of danger. They are very plentiful and very pugnacious, frequently driving awaycrows and even hawks, which perch on a tree where a few of them areassembled. It is very probable, therefore, that the smaller birds ofprey have learnt to respect these birds and leave them alone, and it maythus be a great advantage for the weaker and less courageous Mimetasto be mistaken for them. This being case, the laws of Variation andSurvival of the Fittest, will suffice to explain how the resemblance hasbeen brought about, without supposing any voluntary action on the partof the birds themselves; and those who have read Mr. Darwin's "Origin ofSpecies" will have no difficulty in comprehending the whole process. The insects of the Moluccas are pre-eminently beautiful, even whencompared with the varied and beautiful productions of other parts of theArchipelago. The grand bird-winged butterflies (Ornithoptera) here reachtheir maximum of size and beauty, and many of the Papilios, PieridaeDanaidae, and Nymphalidae are equally preeminent. There is, perhaps, noisland in the world so small as Amboyna where so many grand insects areto be found. Here are three of the very finest Ornithopterae--priamus, helena, and remiss; three of the handsomest and largestPapilios--ulysses, deiphobus, and gambrisius; one of the handsomestPieridae, Iphias leucippe; the largest of the Danaidae, Hestia idea;and two unusually large and handsome Nymphalidae--Diadema pandarus, and Charaxes euryalus. Among its beetles are the extraordinary Euchiruslongimanus, whose enormous legs spread over a space of eight inches, and an unusual number of large and handsome Longicorns, Anthribidae, andBuprestidae. The beetles figured on the plate as characteristic of the Moluccas are:1. A small specimen of the Euchirus longimanus, or Long-armed Chafer, which has been already mentioned in the account of my residence atAmboyna (Chapter XX. ). The female has the fore legs of moderate length. 2. A fine weevil, (an undescribed species of Eupholus, ) of rich blue andemerald green colours, banded with black. It is a native of Ceram andGoram, and is found on foliage. 3. A female of Xenocerus semiluctuosus, one of the Anthribidae of delicate silky white and black colours. Itis abundant on fallen trunks and stumps in Ceram and Amboyna. 4. Anundescribed species of Xenocerus; a male, with very long and curiousantenna, and elegant black and white markings. It is found on fallentrunks in Batchian. 5. An undescribed species of Arachnobas, a curiousgenus of weevils peculiar to the Moluccas and New Guinea, and remarkablefor their long legs, and their habit of often sitting on leaves, andturning rapidly round the edge to the under-surface when disturbed. Itwas found in Gilolo. All these insects are represented of the naturalsize. Like the birds, the insects of the Moluccas show a decided affinitywith those of New Guinea rather than with the productions of the greatwestern islands of the Archipelago, but the difference in form andstructure between the productions of the east and west is not nearlyso marked here as in birds. This is probably due to the more immediatedependence of insects on climate and vegetation, and the greaterfacilities for their distribution in the varied stages of egg, pupa, andperfect insect. This has led to a general uniformity in the insect-lifeof the whole Archipelago, in accordance with the general uniformityof its climate and vegetation; while on the other hand the greatsusceptibility of the insect organization to the action of externalconditions has led to infinite detailed modifications of form andcolour, which have in many cases given a considerable diversity to theproductions of adjacent islands. Owing to the great preponderance among the birds, of parrots, pigeons, kingfishers, and sunbirds, almost all of gay or delicate colours, andmany adorned with the most gorgeous plumage, and to the numbers of verylarge and showy butterflies which are almost everywhere to be met with, the forests of the Moluccas offer to the naturalist a very strikingexample of the luxuriance and beauty of animal life in the tropics. Yetthe almost entire absence of Mammalia, and of such wide-spread groups ofbirds as woodpeckers, thrushes, jays, tits, and pheasants, must convincehim that he is in a part of the world which has, in reality but littlein common with the great Asiatic continent, although an unbroken chainof islands seems to link them to it. CHAPTER XXVIII. MACASSAR TO THE ARU ISLANDS IN A NATIVE PRAU. (DECEMBER, 1856. ) IT was the beginning of December, and the rainy season at Macassar hadjust set in. For nearly three months had beheld the sun rise daily abovethe palm-groves, mount to the zenith, and descend like a globe of fireinto the ocean, unobscured for a single moment of his course. Now darkleaden clouds had gathered over the whole heavens, and seemed to haverendered him permanently invisible. The strong east winds, warm and dryand dust-laden, which had hitherto blown as certainly as the sun hadrisen, were now replaced by variable gusty breezes and heavy rains, often continuous for three days and nights together; and the parchedand fissured rice stubbles which during the dry weather had extended inevery direction for miles around the town, were already so flooded asto be only passable by boats, or by means of a labyrinth of paths on thetop of the narrow banks which divided the separate properties. Five months of this kind of weather might be expected in SouthernCelebes, and I therefore determined to seek some more favourable climatefor collecting in during that period, and to return in the next dryseason to complete my exploration of the district. Fortunately for meI was in one of the treat emporiums of the native trade of thearchipelago. Rattans from Borneo, sandal-wood and bees'-was from Floresand Timor, tripang from the Gulf of Carpentaria, cajputi-oil from Bouru, wild nutmegs and mussoi-bark from New Guinea, are all to be found in thestores of the Chinese and Bugis merchants of Macassar, along with therice and coffee which are the chief products of the surrounding country. More important than all these however is the trade to Aru, a group ofislands situated on the south-west coast of New Guinea, and of whichalmost the whole produce comes to Macassar in native vessels. Theseislands are quite out of the track of all European trade, and areinhabited only by black mop-headed savages, who yet contribute to theluxurious tastes of the most civilized races. Pearls, mother-of-pearl, and tortoiseshell find their way to Europe, while edible birds' nestsand "tripang" or sea-slug are obtained by shiploads for the gastronomicenjoyment of the Chinese. The trade to these islands has existed from very early times, and itis from them that Birds of Paradise, of the two kinds known to Linnaeuswere first brought The native vessels can only make the voyage once ayear, owing to the monsoons. They leave Macassar in December or Januaryat the beginning of the west monsoon, and return in July or Augustwith the full strength of the east monsoon. Even by the Macassar peoplethemselves, the voyage to the Aru Islands is looked upon as a ratherwild and romantic expedition, fall of novel sights and strangeadventures. He who has made it is looked up to as an authority, and itremains with many the unachieved ambition of their lives. I myself hadhoped rather than expected ever to reach this "Ultima Thule" of theEast: and when I found that I really could do so now, had I but courageto trust myself for a thousand miles' voyage in a Bugis prau, and forsix or seven months among lawless traders and ferocious savages, I feltsomewhat as I did when, a schoolboy, I was for the first time allowedto travel outside the stage-coach, to visit that scene of all that isstrange and new and wonderful to young imaginations-London! By the help of some kind friends I was introduced to the owner of oneof the large praus which was to sail in a few days. He was a Javanesehalf-caste, intelligent, mild, and gentlemanly in his manners, and hada young and pretty Dutch wife, whom he was going to leave behind duringhis absence. When we talked about passage money he would fix no sum, butinsisted on leaving it entirely to me to pay on my return exactly whatI liked. "And then, " said he, "whether you give me one dollar or ahundred, I shall be satisfied, and shall ask no more. " The remainder of my stay was fully occupied in laying in stores, engaging servants, and making every other preparation for an absence ofseven months from even the outskirts of civilization. On the morning ofDecember 13th, when we went on board at daybreak, it was raining hard. We set sail and it came on to blow. Our boat was lost astern, our sailsdamaged, and the evening found us hack again in Macassar harbour. Weremained there four days longer, owing to its raining all the time, thusrendering it impossible to dry and repair the huge mat sails. All thesedreary days I remained on board, and during the rare intervals when itdidn't rain, made myself acquainted with our outlandish craft, some ofthe peculiarities of which I will now endeavour to describe. It was a vessel of about seventy tons burthen, and shaped something likea Chinese junk. The deck sloped considerably downward to the bows, whichare thus the lowest part of the ship. There were two large rudders, but instead of being planed astern they were hung on the quarters fromstrong cross beams, which projected out two or three feet on each side, and to which extent the deck overhung the sides of the vessel amidships. The rudders were not hinged but hung with slings of rattan, the frictionof which keeps them in any position in which they are placed, and thusperhaps facilitates steering. The tillers were not on deck, but enteredthe vessel through two square openings into a lower or half deck aboutthree feet high, in which sit the two steersmen. In the after part ofthe vessel was a low poop, about three and a half feet high, whichforms the captain's cabin, its furniture consisting of boxes, mats, andpillows. In front of the poop and mainmast was a little thatched houseon deck, about four feet high to the ridge; and one compartment of this, forming a cabin six and a half feet long by five and a half wide, I hadall to myself, and it was the snuggest and most comfortable little placeI ever enjoyed at sea. It was entered by a low sliding door of thatchon one side, and had a very small window on the other. The floor was ofsplit bamboo, pleasantly elastic, raised six inches above the deck, so as to be quite dry. It was covered with fine cane mats, for themanufacture of which Macassar is celebrated; against the further wallwere arranged my guncase, insect-boxes, clothes, and books; my mattressoccupied the middle, and next the door were my canteen, lamp, and littlestore of luxuries for the voyage; while guns, revolver, and huntingknife hung conveniently from the roof. During these four miserable daysI was quite jolly in this little snuggery more so than I should havebeen if confined the same time to the gilded and uncomfortable saloon ofa first-class steamer. Then, how comparatively sweet was everythingon board--no paint, no tar, no new rope, (vilest of smells to thequalmish!) no grease, or oil, or varnish; but instead of these, bambooand rattan, and coir rope and palm thatch; pure vegetable fibres, whichsmell pleasantly if they smell at all, and recall quiet scenes in thegreen and shady forest. Our ship had two masts, if masts they can be called c which were greatmoveable triangles. If in an ordinary ship you replace the shrouds andbackstay by strong timbers, and take away the mast altogether, you havethe arrangement adopted on board a prau. Above my cabin, and resting oncross-beams attached to the masts, was a wilderness of yards and spars, mostly formed of bamboo. The mainyard, an immense affair nearly ahundred feet long, was formed of many pieces of wood and bamboo boundtogether with rattans in an ingenious manner. The sail carried by thiswas of an oblong shape, and was hung out of the centre, so that when theshort end was hauled down on deck the long end mounted high in the air, making up for the lowness of the mast itself. The foresail was of thesame shape, but smaller. Both these were of matting, and, with two jibsand a fore and aft sail astern of cotton canvas, completed our rig. The crew consisted of about thirty men, natives of Macassar and theadjacent coasts and islands. They were mostly young, and were short, broad-faced, good-humoured looking fellows. Their dress consistedgenerally of a pair of trousers only, when at work, and a handkerchieftwisted round the head, to which in the evening they would add a thincotton jacket. Four of the elder men were "jurumudis, " or steersmen, whohad to squat (two at a time) in the little steerage before described, changing every six hours. Then there was an old man, the "juragan, "or captain, but who was really what we should call the first mate; heoccupied the other half of the little house on deck. There were aboutten respectable men, Chinese or Bugis, whom our owner used to call "hisown people. " He treated them very well, shared his meals with them, andspoke to them always with perfect politeness; yet they were most of thema kind of slave debtors, bound over by the police magistrate to workfor him at mere nominal wages for a term of years till their debts wereliquidated. This is a Dutch institution in this part of the world, andseems to work well. It is a great boon to traders, who can do nothingin these thinly-populated regions without trusting goods to agentsand petty dealers, who frequently squander them away in gambling anddebauchery. The lower classes are almost all in a chronic state of debt. The merchant trusts them again and again, till the amount is somethingserious, when he brings them to court and has their services allotted tohim for its liquidation. The debtors seem to think this no disgrace, butrather enjoy their freedom from responsibility, and the dignity of theirposition under a wealthy and well-known merchant. They trade a little ontheir own account, and both parties seem to get on very well together. The plan seems a more sensible one than that which we adopt, ofeffectually preventing a man from earning anything towards paying hisdebts by shutting him up in a jail. My own servants were three in number. Ali, the Malay boy whom I hadpicked up in Borneo, was my head man. He had already been with me ayear, could turn his hand to anything, and was quite attentive andtrustworthy. He was a good shot, and fond of shooting, and I had taughthim to skin birds very well. The second, named Baderoon, was a Macassarlad; also a pretty good boy, but a desperate gambler. Under pretence ofbuying a house for his mother, and clothes, for himself, he had receivedfour months' wages about a week before we sailed, and in a day or twogambled away every dollar of it. He had come on board with no clothes, no betel, or tobacco, or salt fish, all which necessary articles I wasobliged to send Ali to buy for him. These two lads were about sixteen, Ishould suppose; the third was younger, a sharp little rascal named Baso, who had been with me a month or two, and had learnt to cook tolerably. He was to fulfil the important office of cook and housekeeper, forI could not get any regular servants to go to such a terribly remotecountry; one might as well ask a chef de cuisine to go to Patagonia. On the fifth day that I had spent on board (Dec. 15th) the rain ceased, and final preparations were made for starting. Sails were dried andfurled, boats were constantly coming and going, and stores for thevoyage, fruit, vegetables, fish, and palm sugar, were taken on board. In the afternoon two women arrived with a large party of friends andrelations, and at parting there was a general noserubbing (the Malaykiss), and some tears shed. These were promising symptoms for ourgetting off the next day; and accordingly, at three in the morning, theowner came on board, the anchor was immediately weighed, and by four weset sail. Just as we were fairly off and clear of the other praus, theold juragan repeated some prayers, all around responding with "Allah ilAllah, " and a few strokes on a gong as an accompaniment, concluding withall wishing each other "Salaamat jalan, " a safe and happy journey. We had a light breeze, a calm sea, and a fine morning, a prosperouscommencement of our voyage of about a thousand miles to the far-famedAru Islands. The wind continued light and variable all day, with a calm in theevening before the land breeze sprang up, were then passing the islandof "Tanakaki" (foot of the land), at the extreme south of this part ofCelebes. There are some dangerous rocks here, and as I was standing bythe bulwarks, I happened to spit over the side; one of the men begged Iwould not do so just now, but spit on deck, as they were much afraidof this place. Not quite comprehending, I made him repeat his request, when, seeing he was in earnest, I said, "Very well, I suppose there are'hantus' (spirits) here. " "Yes, " said he, "and they don't like anythingto be thrown overboard; many a prau has been lost by doing it. " Uponwhich I promised to be very careful. At sunset the good Mahometanson board all repeated a few words of prayer with a general chorus, reminding me of the pleasing and impressive "Ave. Maria" of Catholiccountries. Dec. 20th. -At sunrise we were opposite the Bontyne mountain, said to beone of the highest in Celebes. In the afternoon we passed the SalayerStraits and had a little squall, which obliged us to lower our hugemast, sails, and heavy yards. The rest of the evening we had a fine westwind, which carried us on at near five knots an hour, as much as ourlumbering old tub can possibly go. Dec. 21st. -A heavy swell from the south-west rolling us about mostuncomfortably. A steady wind was blowing however, and we got on verywell. Dec. 22d. -The swell had gone down. We passed Boutong, a large island, high, woody, and populous, the native place of some of our crew. A smallprau returning from Bali to the island of Goram overtook us. The nakoda(captain) was known to our owner. They had been two years away, but werefull of people, with several black Papuans on board. At 6 P. M. We passedWangiwangi, low but not flat, inhabited and subject to Boutong. We hadnow fairly entered the Molucca Sea. After dark it was a beautifulsight to look down on our rudders, from which rushed eddying streams ofphosphoric light gemmed with whirling sparks of fire. It resembled (morenearly than anything else to which I can compare it) one of the largeirregular nebulous star-clusters seen through a good telescope, with theadditional attraction of ever-changing form and dancing motion. Dec. 23d. -Fine red sunrise; the island we left last evening barelyvisible behind us. The Goram prau about a mile south of us. They haveno compass, yet they have kept a very true course during the night. Our owner tells me they do it by the swell of the sea, the direction ofwhich they notice at sunset, and sail by it during the night. In theseseas they are never (in fine weather) more than two days without seeingland. Of course adverse winds or currents sometimes carry them away, but they soon fall in with some island, and there are always some oldsailors on board who know it, and thence take a new course. Last nighta shark about five feet long was caught, and this morning it was cut upand cooked. In the afternoon they got another, and I had a little fried, and found it firm and dry, but very palatable. In the evening the sunset in a heavy bank of clouds, which, as darkness came on, assumed afearfully black appearance. According to custom, when strong wind orrain is expected, our large sails-were furled, and with their yards letdown on deck, and a small square foresail alone kept up. The great matsails are most awkward things to manage in rough weather. The yardswhich support them are seventy feet long, and of course very heavy, andthe only way to furl them being to roll up the sail on the boom, it isa very dangerous thing to have them standing when overtaken by a squall. Our crew; though numerous enough for a vessel of 700 instead of one of70 tons, have it very much their own way, and there seems to be seldommore than a dozen at work at a time. When anything important is tobe done, however, all start up willingly enough, but then all thinkthemselves at liberty to give their opinion, and half a dozen voices areheard giving orders, and there is such a shrieking and confusion that itseems wonderful anything gets done at all. Considering we have fifty men of several tribes and tongues onboard, wild, half-savage looking fellows, and few of them feeling any of therestraints of morality or education, we get on wonderfully well. Thereis no fighting or quarrelling, as there would certainly be among thesame number of Europeans with as little restraint upon their actions, and there is scarcely any of that noise and excitement which might beexpected. In fine weather the greater part of them are quietly enjoyingthemselves--some are sleeping under the shadow of the sails; others, in little groups of three or four, are talking or chewing betel; one ismaking a new handle to his chopping-knife, another is stitching awayat a new pair of trousers or a shirt, and all are as quiet andwell-conducted as on board the best-ordered English merchantman. Two orthree take it by turns to watch in the bows and see after the bracesand halyards of the great sails; the two steersmen are below in thesteerage; our captain, or the juragan, gives the course, guided partlyby the compass and partly by the direction of the wind, and a watch oftwo or three on the poop look after the trimming of the sails and callout the hours by the water-clock. This is a very ingenious contrivance, which measures time well in both rough weather and fine. It is simplya bucket half filled with water, in which floats the half of awell-scraped cocoa-nut shell. In the bottom of this shell is a verysmall hole, so that when placed to float in the bucket a fine thread ofwater squirts up into it. This gradually fills the shell, and the sizeof the hole is so adjusted to the capacity of the vessel that, exactlyat the end of an hour, plump it goes to the bottom. The watch then criesout the number of hours from sunrise and sets the shell afloat againempty. This is a very good measurer of time. I tested it with my watchand found that it hardly varied a minute from one hour to another, nordid the motion of the vessel have any effect upon it, as the water inthe bucket of course kept level. It has a great advantage for a rudepeople in being easily understood, in being rather bulky and easyto see, and in the final submergence being accompanied with a littlebubbling and commotion of the water, which calls the attention to it. Itis also quickly replaced if lost while in harbour. Our captain and owner I find to be a quiet, good-tempered man, who seemsto get on very well with all about him. When at sea he drinks no wine orspirits, but indulges only in coffee and cakes, morning and afternoon, in company with his supercargo and assistants. He is a man of somelittle education, can read and write well both Dutch and Malay, uses acompass, and has a chart. He has been a trader to Aru for many years, and is well known to both Europeans and natives in this part of theworld. Dec. 24th. -Fine, and little wind. No land in sight for the first timesince we left Macassar. At noon calm, with heavy showers, in which ourcrew wash their clothes, anti in the afternoon the prau is covered withshirts, trousers, and sarongs of various gay colours. I made a discoveryto-day which at first rather alarmed me. The two ports, or openings, through which the tillers enter from the lateral rudders are not morethan three or four feet above the surface of the water, which thus hasa free entrance into the vessel. I of course had imagined that thisopen space from one side to the other was separated from the hold bya water-tight bulkhead, so that a sea entering might wash out at thefurther side, and do no more harm than give the steersmen a drenching. To my surprise end dismay, however, I find that it is completely open tothe hold, so that half-a-dozen seas rolling in on a stormy night wouldnearly, or quite, swamp us. Think of a vessel going to sea for a monthwith two holes, each a yard square, into the hold, at three feet abovethe water-line, -holes, too, which cannot possibly be closed! But ourcaptain says all praus are so; and though he acknowledges the danger, "he does not know how to alter it--the people are used to it; he doesnot understand praus so well as they do, and if such a great alterationwere made, he should be sure to have difficulty in getting a crew!" Thisproves at all events that praus must be good sea-boats, for the captainhas been continually making voyages in them for the last ten years, andsays he has never known water enough enter to do any harm. Dec. 25th. -Christmas-day dawned upon us with gusts of wind, driving rain, thunder and lightning, added to which a short confused sea made ourqueer vessel pitch and roll very uncomfortably. About nine o'clock, however, it cleared up, and we then saw ahead of us the fine island ofBouru, perhaps forty or fifty miles distant, its mountains wreathed withclouds, while its lower lands were still invisible. The afternoon wasfine, and the wind got round again to the west; but although this isreally the west monsoon, there is no regularity or steadiness about it, calms and breezes from every point of the compass continually occurring. The captain, though nominally a Protestant, seemed to have no idea ofChristmas-day as a festival. Our dinner was of rice and curry as usual, and an extra glass of wine was all I could do to celebrate it. Dec. 26th. --Fine view of the mountains of Bouru, which we have nowapproached considerably. Our crew seem rather a clumsy lot. They do notwalk the deck with the easy swing of English sailors, but hesitateand stagger like landsmen. In the night the lower boom of our mainsailbroke, and they were all the morning repairing it. It consisted of twobamboos lashed together, thick end to thin, and was about seventy feetlong. The rigging and arrangement of these praus contrasts strangelywith that of European vessels, in which the various ropes and spars, though much more numerous, are placed so as not to interfere with eachother's action. Here the case is quite different; for though there areno shrouds or stays to complicate the matter, yet scarcely anything canbe done without first clearing something else out of the way. The largesails cannot be shifted round to go on the other tack without firsthauling down the jibs, and the booms of the fore and aft sails have tobe lowered and completely detached to perform the same operation. Thenthere are always a lot of ropes foul of each other, and all the sailscan never be set (though they are so few) without a good part of theirsurface having the wind kept out of them by others. Yet praus are muchliked even by those who have had European vessels, because of theircheapness both in first cost and in keeping up; almost all repairs canbe done by the crew, and very few European stores are required. Dec. 28th. --This day we saw the Banda group, the volcano firstappearing, --a perfect cone, having very much the outline of the Egyptianpyramids, and looking almost as regular. In the evening the smoke restedover its summit like a small stationary cloud. This was my first viewof an active volcano, but pictures and panoramas have so impressedsuch things on one's mind, that when we at length behold them they seemnothing extraordinary. Dec. 30th. --Passed the island of Teor, and a group near it, which arevery incorrectly marked on the charts. Flying-fish were numerous to-day. It is a smaller species than that of the Atlantic, and more active andelegant in its motions. As they skim along the surface they turn ontheir sides, so as fully to display their beautiful fins, taking aflight of about a hundred yards, rising and falling in a most gracefulmanner. At a little distance they exactly resemble swallows, and no onewho sees them can doubt that they really do fly, not merely descend inan oblique direction from the height they gain by their first spring. Inthe evening an aquatic bird, a species of booby (Sula fiber. ) rested onour hen-coop, and was caught by the neck by one of my boys. Dec. 31st--At daybreak the Ke Islands (pronounced Kay) were in sight, where we are to stay a few days. About noon we rounded the northernpoint, and endeavoured to coast along to the anchorage; but being nowon the leeward side of the island, the wind came in violent irregulargusts, and then leaving us altogether, we were carried back by a strongcurrent. Just then two boats-load of natives appeared, and our ownerhaving agreed with them to tow us into harbour, they tried to do so, assisted by our own boat, but could make no way. We were thereforeobliged to anchor in a very dangerous place on a rocky bottom, and wewere engaged till nearly dark getting hawsers secured to some rocksunder water. The coast of Ke along which we had passed was verypicturesque. Light coloured limestone rocks rose abruptly from the waterto the height of several hundred feet, everywhere broken into juttingpeaks and pinnacles, weather-worn into sharp points and honeycombedsurfaces, and clothed throughout with a most varied and luxuriantvegetation. The cliffs above the sea offered to our view screw-pinesand arborescent Liliaceae of strange forms, mingled with shrubs andcreepers; while the higher slopes supported a dense growth of foresttrees. Here and there little bays and inlets presented beaches ofdazzling whiteness. The water was transparent as crystal, and tingedthe rock-strewn slope which plunged steeply into its unfathomable depthswith colours varying from emerald to lapis-lazuli. The sea was calm as alake, and the glorious sun of the tropics threw a flood of golden lightover all. The scene was to me inexpressibly delightful. I was in a newworld, and could dream of the wonderful productions hid in those rockyforests, and in those azure abysses. But few European feet had evertrodden the shores I gazed upon its plants, and animals, and men werealike almost unknown, and I could not help speculating on what mywanderings there for a few days might bring to light. CHAPTER XXIX. THE KE ISLANDS. (JANUARY 1857) THE native boats that had come to meet us were three or four in number, containing in all about fifty men. They were long canoes, with the bow and stern rising up into a beaksix or night feet high, decorated with shells and waving plumes ofcassowaries hair. I now had my first view of Papuans in their owncountry, and in less than five minutes was convinced that the opinionalready arrived at by the examination of a few Timor and New Guineaslaves was substantially correct, and that the people I now had anopportunity of comparing side by side belonged to two of the mostdistinct and strongly marked races that the earth contains. Had I beenblind, I could have been certain that these islanders were not Malays. The loud, rapid, eager tones, the incessant motion, the intense vitalactivity manifested in speech and action, are the very antipodes of thequiet, unimpulsive, unanimated Malay These Ke men came up singing andshouting, dipping their paddles deep in the water and throwing up cloudsof spray; as they approached nearer they stood up in their canoes andincreased their noise and gesticulations; and on coming alongside, without asking leave, and without a moment's hesitation, the greaterpart of them scrambled up on our deck just as if they were come to takepossession of a captured vessel. Then commenced a scene of indescribableconfusion. These forty black, naked, mop-headed savages seemedintoxicated with joy and excitement. Not one of them could remain stillfor a moment. Every individual of our crew was in turn surrounded andexamined, asked for tobacco or arrack, grinned at and deserted foranother. All talked at once, and our captain was regularly mobbed bythe chief men, who wanted to be employed to tow us in, and who beggedvociferously to be paid in advance. A few presents of tobacco made theireyes glisten; they would express their satisfaction by grins and shouts, by rolling on deck, or by a headlong leap overboard. Schoolboys on anunexpected holiday, Irishmen at a fair, or mid-shipmen on shore, wouldgive but a faint idea of the exuberant animal enjoyment of these people. Under similar circumstances Malays could not behave as these Papuansdid. If they came on board a vessel (after asking permission), not aword would be at first spoken, except a few compliments, and only aftersome time, and very cautiously, world any approach be made to business. One would speak at a time, with a low voice and great deliberation, and the mode of making a bargain would be by quietly refusing all youroffers, or even going away without saying another word about the matter, unless advanced your price to what they were willing to accept. Our crew, many of whom had not made the voyage before, seemed quitescandalized at such unprecedented bad manners, and only very graduallymade any approach to fraternization with the black fellows. Theyreminded me of a party of demure and well-behaved children suddenlybroken in upon by a lot of wild romping, riotous boys, whose conductseems most extraordinary and very naughty. These moral features aremore striking and more conclusive of absolute diversity than oventhe physical contrast presented by the two races, though that issufficiently remarkable. The sooty blackness of the skin, the mop-likehead of frizzly hair, and, most important of all, the marked form ofcountenance of quite a different type from that of the Malay, arewhat we cannot believe to result from mere climatal or other modifyinginfluences on one and the same race. The Malay face is of the Mongoliantype, broad and somewhat flat. The brows are depressed, the mouth wide, but not projecting, and the nose small and well formed but for the greatdilatation of the nostrils. The face is smooth, and rarely develops thetrace of a beard; the hair black, coarse, and perfectly straight. ThePapuan, on the other hand, has a face which we may say is compressed andprojecting. The brows are protuberant and overhanging, the mouthlarge and prominent, while the nose is very large, the apex elongateddownwards, the ridge thick, and the nostrils large. It is an obtrusiveand remarkable feature in the countenance, the very reverse of whatobtains in the Malay face. The twisted beard and frizzly hair completethis remarkable contrast. Hero then I had reached a new world, inhabitedby a strange people. Between the Malayan tribes, among whom I had forsome years been living, and the Papuan races, whose country I had nowentered, we may fairly say that there is as much difference, bothmoral and physical, as between the red Indians of South America and thenegroes of Guinea on the opposite side of the Atlantic. Jan. 1st, 1857. -This has been a day of thorough enjoyment. I havewandered in the forests of an island rarely seen by Europeans. Beforedaybreak we left our anchorage, and in an hour reached the village ofHar, where we were to stay three or four days. The range of hills herereceded so as to form a small bay, and they were broken up into peaksand hummocks with intervening flats and hollows. A broad beach ofthe whitest sand lined the inner part of the bay, backed by a mass ofcocoa-nut palms, among which the huts were concealed, and surmounted bya dense and varied growth of timber. Canoes and boats of various sizeswere drawn up on the beach and one or two idlers, with a few childrenand a dog, gazed at our prau as we came to an anchor. When we went on shore the first thing that attracted us was a large andwell-constructed shed, under which a long boat was being built, whileothers in various stages of completion were placed at intervals alongthe beach. Our captain, who wanted two of moderate size for the tradeamong the islands at Aru, immediately began bargaining for them, and ina short tine had arranged the nuns number of brass guns, gongs, sarongs, handkerchiefs, axes, white plates, tobacco, and arrack, which he was togive for a hair which could be got ready in four days. We then wentto the village, which consisted only of three or four huts, situatedimmediately above the beach on an irregular rocky piece of groundovershadowed with cocoa-nuts, palms, bananas, and other fruit trees. The houses were very rude, black, and half rotten, raised a few feet onposts with low sides of bamboo or planks, and high thatched roofs. Theyhad small doors and no windows, an opening under the projecting gablesletting the smoke out and a little light in. The floors were of stripsof bamboo, thin, slippery, and elastic, and so weak that my feet werein danger of plunging through at every step. Native boxes ofpandanus-leaves and slabs of palm pith, very neatly constructed, matsof the same, jars and cooking pots of native pottery, and a few Europeanplates and basins, were the whole furniture, and the interior wasthroughout dark and smoke-blackened, and dismal in the extreme. Accompanied by Ali and Baderoon, I now attempted to make someexplorations, and we were followed by a train of boys eager to see whatwe were going to do. The most trodden path from the beach led us into ashady hollow, where the trees were of immense height and the undergrowthscanty. From the summits of these trees came at intervals a deep boomingsound, which at first puzzled us, but which we soon found to proceedfrom some large pigeons. My boys shot at them, and after one or twomisses, brought one down. It was a magnificent bird twenty inches long, of a bluish white colour, with the back wings and tail intense metallicgreen, with golden, blue, and violet reflexions, the feet coral red, and the eyes golden yellow. It is a rare species, which I have namedCarpophaga concinna, and is found only in a few small islands, where, however, it abounds. It is the same species which in the island of Bandais called the nutmeg-pigeon, from its habit of devouring the fruits, the seed or nutmeg being thrown up entire and uninjured. Though thesepigeons have a narrow beak, yet their jaws and throat are so extensiblethat they can swallow fruits of very large size. I had before shot aspecies much smaller than this one, which had a number of hard globularpalm-fruits in its crop, each more than an inch in diameter. A little further the path divided into two, one leading along the beach, and across mangrove and sago swamps the other rising to cultivatedgrounds. We therefore returned, and taking a fresh departure fromthe village, endeavoured to ascend the hills and penetrate into theinterior. The path, however, was a most trying one. Where there wasearth, it was a deposit of reddish clay overlying the rock, and was wornso smooth by the attrition of naked feet that my shoes could obtain nohold on the sloping surface. A little farther we came to the bare rock, and this was worse, for it was so rugged and broken, and so honeycombedand weatherworn into sharp points and angles, that my boys, who hadgone barefooted all their lives, could not stand it. Their feet began tobleed, and I saw that if I did not want them completely lamed it wouldbe wise to turn lack. My own shoes, which were rather thin, were but apoor protection, and would soon have been cut to pieces; yet our littlenaked guides tripped along with the greatest ease and unconcern, andseemed much astonished at our effeminacy in not being able to take awalk which to them was a perfectly agreeable one. During the rest of ourstay in the island we were obliged to confine ourselves to the vicinityof the shore and the cultivated grounds, and those more level portionsof the forest where a little soil had accumulated and the rock had beenless exposed to atmospheric action. The island of Ke (pronounced exactly as the letter K, but erroneouslyspelt in our maps Key or Ki) is long and narrow, running in a north andsouth direction, and consists almost entirely of rock and mountain. Itis everywhere covered with luxuriant forests, and in its bays and inletsthe sand is of dazzling whiteness, resulting from the decomposition ofthe coralline limestone of which it is entirely composed. In all thelittle swampy inlets and valleys sago trees abound, and these supply themain subsistence of the natives, who grow no rice, and have scarcely anyother cultivated products but cocoa-nuts, plantains, and yams. From thecocoa-nuts, which surround every hut, and which thrive exceedingly onthe porous limestone soil and under the influence of salt breezes, oilis made which is sold at a good price to the Aru traders, who all touchhere to lay in their stuck of this article, as well as to purchase boatsand native crockery. Wooden bowls, pans, and trays are also largely madehere, hewn out of solid blocks of wood with knife and adze; and theseare carried to all parts of the Moluccas. But the art in which thenatives of Ke pre-eminently excel is that of boat building. Theirforests supply abundance of fine timber, though, probably not moreso than many other islands, and from some unknown causes these remotesavages have come to excel in what seems a very difficult art. Theirsmall canoes are beautifully formed, broad and low in the centre, butrising at each end, where they terminate in high-pointed beaks moreor less carved, and ornamented with a plume of feathers. They are nothollowed out of a tree, but are regularly built of planks running fromego to end, and so accurately fitted that it is often difficult to finda place where a knife-blade can be inserted between the joints. Thelarger ones are from 20 to 30 tons burthen, and are finished ready forsea without a nail or particle of iron being used, and with no othertools than axe, adze, and auger. These vessels are handsome to look at, good sailers, and admirable sea-boats, and will make long voyages withperfect safety, traversing the whole Archipelago from New Guinea toSingapore in seas which, as every one who has sailed much in them cantestify, are not so smooth and tempest-free as word-painting travellerslove to represent them. The forests of Ke produce magnificent timber, tall, straight, anddurable, of various qualities, some of which are said to be superiorto the best Indian teak. To make each pair of planks used in theconstruction of the larger boats an entire tree is consumed. It isfelled, often miles away from the shore, cut across to the properlength, and then hewn longitudinally into two equal portions. Each ofthese forms a plank by cutting down with the axe to a uniform thicknessof three or four inches, leaving at first a solid block at each end toprevent splitting. Along the centre of each plank a series of projectingpieces are left, standing up three or four inches, about the same width, and a foot long; these are of great importance in the construction ofthe vessel. When a sufficient number of planks have been made, they arelaboriously dragged through the forest by three or four men each to thebeach, where the boat is to be built. A foundation piece, broad in themiddle and rising considerably at each end, is first laid on blocks andproperly shored up. The edges of this are worked true and smooth withthe adze, and a plank, properly curved and tapering at each end, is heldfirmly up against it, while a line is struck along it which allows it tobe cut so as to fit exactly. A series of auger holes, about as large asone's finger, are then bored along the opposite edges, and pins of veryhard wood are fitted to these, so that the two planks are held firmly, and can be driven into the closest contact; and difficult as this seemsto do without any other aid than rude practical skill in forming eachedge to the true corresponding curves, and in poring the holes so asexactly to match both in position and direction, yet so well is itdone that the best European shipwright cannot produce sounder orcloser-fitting joints. The boat is built up in this way by fitting plankto plank till the proper height and width are obtained. We have now askin held together entirely by the hardwood pins connecting the edges ofthe planks, very strong and elastic, but having nothing but the adhesionof these pins to prevent the planks gaping. In the smaller boats seats, in the larger ones cross-beams, are now fixed. They are sprung intoslight notches cut to receive them, and are further secured to theprojecting pieces of the plank below by a strong lashing of rattan. Ribsare now formed of single pieces of tough wood chosen and trimmed so asexactly to fit on to the projections from each plank, being slightlynotched to receive them, and securely bound to them by rattans passedthrough a hole in each projecting piece close to the surface of theplank. The ends are closed against the vertical prow and stern posts, and further secured with pegs and rattans, and then the boat iscomplete; and when fitted with rudders, masts, and thatched covering, is ready to do battle with, the waves. A careful consideration of theprinciple of this mode of construction, and allowing for the strengthand binding qualities of rattan (which resembles in these respects wirerather than cordage), makes me believe that a vessel carefully builtin this manner is actually stronger and safer than one fastened in theordinary way with nails. During our stay here we were all very busy. Our captain was dailysuperintending the completion of his two small praus. All day longnative boats were coming with fish, cocoa-nuts, parrots and lories, earthen pans, sirip leaf, wooden bowls, and trays, &c. &e. , which everyone of the fifty inhabitants of our prau seemed to be buying on his ownaccount, till all available and most unavailable space of our vesselwas occupied with these miscellaneous articles: for every man on boarda prau considers himself at liberty to trade, and to carry with himwhatever he can afford to buy. Money is unknown and valueless here--knives, cloth, and arrack formingthe only medium of exchange, with tobacco for small coin. Everytransaction is the subject of a special bargain, and the cause of muchtalking. It is absolutely necessary to offer very little, as the nativesare never satisfied till you add a little more. They are then far betterpleased than if you had given them twice the amount at first and refusedto increase it. I, too, was doing a little business, having persuaded some of thenatives to collect insects for me; and when they really found that Igave them most fragrant tobacco for worthless black and green beetles, Isoon had scores of visitors, men, women, and children, bringing bamboosfull of creeping things, which, alas! too frequently had eaten eachother into fragments during the tedium of a day's confinement. Of onegrand new beetle, glittering with ruby and emerald tints, I got a largequantity, having first detected one of its wing-cases ornamenting theoutside of a native's tobacco pouch. It was quite a new species, and hadnot been found elsewhere than on this little island. It is one of theBuprestidae, and has been named Cyphogastra calepyga. Each morning after an early breakfast I wandered by myself into theforest, where I found delightful occupation in capturing the large andhandsome butterflies, which were tolerably abundant, and most of themnew to me; for I was now upon the confines of the Moluccas and NewGuinea, --a region the productions of which were then among the mostprecious and rare in the cabinets of Europe. Here my eyes were feastedfor the first time with splendid scarlet lories on the wing, as wellas by the sight of that most imperial butterfly, the "Priamus" ofcollectors, or a closely allied species, but flying so high that I didnot succeed in capturing a specimen. One of them was brought me in abamboo, bored up with a lot of beetles, and of course torn to pieces. The principal drawback of the place for a collector is the want of goodpaths, and the dreadfully rugged character of the surface, requiringthe attention to be so continually directed to securing a footing, as tomake it very difficult to capture active winged things, who pass out ofreach while one is glancing to see that the next step may not plunge oneinto a chasm or over a precipice. Another inconvenience is that thereare no running streams, the rock being of so porous a nature that thesurface-water everywhere penetrates its fissures; at least such is thecharacter of the neighbourhood we visited, the only water being smallsprings trickling out close to the sea-beach. In the forests of Ke, arboreal Liliaceae and Pandanaceae abound, andgive a character to the vegetation in the more exposed rocky places. Flowers were scarce, and there were not many orchids, but I noticedthe fine white butterfly-orchis, Phalaenopsis grandiflora, or a speciesclosely allied to it. The freshness and vigour of the vegetation wasvery pleasing, and on such an arid rocky surface was a sure indicationof a perpetually humid climate. Tall clean trunks, many of thembuttressed, and immense trees of the fig family, with aerial rootsstretching out and interlacing and matted together for fifty or ahundred feet above the ground, were the characteristic features; andthere was an absence of thorny shrubs and prickly rattans, which wouldhave made these wilds very pleasant to roam in, had it not been forthe sharp honeycombed rocks already alluded to. In damp places a fineundergrowth of broadleaved herbaceous plants was found, about whichswarmed little green lizards, with tails of the most "heavenly blue, "twisting in and out among the stalks and foliage so actively that Ioften caught glimpses of their tails only, when they startled me bytheir resemblance to small snakes. Almost the only sounds in theseprimeval woods proceeded from two birds, the red lories, who uttershrill screams like most of the parrot tribe, and the large greennutmeg-pigeon, whose voice is either a loud and deep boom, like twonotes struck upon a very large gong, or sometimes a harsh toad-likecroak, altogether peculiar and remarkable. Only two quadrupeds aresaid by the natives to inhabit the island--a wild pig and a Cuscus, orEastern opossum, of neither of which could I obtain specimens. The insects were more abundant, and very interesting. Of butterfliesI caught thirty-five species, most of them new to me, and many quiteunknown in European collections. Among them was the fine yellow andblack Papilio euchenor, of which but few specimens had been previouslycaptured, and several other handsome butterflies of large size, as wellas some beautiful little "blues, " and some brilliant dayflying moths. The beetle tribe were less abundant, yet I obtained some very fine andrare species. On the leaves of a slender shrub in an old clearing Ifound several fine blue and black beetles of the genus Eupholus, whichalmost rival in beauty the diamond beetles of South America. Somecocoa-nut palms in blossom on the beach were frequented by a fine greenfloral beetle (Lomaptera) which, when the flowers were shaken, flew offlike a small swarm of bees. I got one of our crew to climb up thetree, and he brought me a good number in his hand; and seeing they werevaluable, I sent him up again with my net to shake the flowers into, andthus secured a large quantity. My best capture, however, was thesuperb insect of the Buprestis family, already mentioned as having beenobtained from the natives, who told me they found it in rotten trees inthe mountains. In the forest itself the only common and conspicuous coleoptera weretwo tiger beetles. One, Therates labiata, was much larger than our greentiger beetle, of a purple black colour, with green metallic glosses, and the broad upper lip of a bright yellow. It was always found uponfoliage, generally of broad-leaned herbaceous plants, and in damp andgloomy situations, taking frequent short flights from leaf to leaf, andpreserving an alert attitude, as if always looking out for its prey. Itsvicinity could be immediately ascertained, often before it was seen, by a very pleasant odour, like otto of roses, which it seems to emitcontinually, and which may probably be attractive to the small insectson which it feeds. The other, Tricondyla aptera, is one of themost curious forms in the family of the Cicindelidae, and is almostexclusively confined to the Malay islands. In shape it resembles a verylarge ant, more than an inch long, and of a purple black colour. Like anant also it is wingless, and is generally found ascending trees, passingaround the trunks in a spiral direction when approached, to avoidcapture, so that it requires a sudden run and active fingers to securea specimen. This species emits the usual fetid odour of the groundbeetles. My collections during our four days' stay at Ke were asfollow:--Birds, 13 species; insects, 194 species; and 3 kinds ofland-shells. There are two kinds of people inhabiting these islands--the indigenes, who have the Papuan characters strongly marked, and who are pagans; anda mixed race, who are nominally Mahometans, and wear cotton clothing, while the former use only a waist cloth of cotton or bark. TheseMahometans are said to have been driven out of Banda by the earlyEuropean settlers. They were probably a brown race, more allied to theMalays, and their mixed descendants here exhibit great variations ofcolour, hair, and features, graduating between the Malay and Papuantypes. It is interesting to observe the influence of the earlyPortuguese trade with these countries in the words of their language, which still remain in use even among these remote and savage islanders. "Lenco" for handkerchief, and "faca" for knife, are here used to theexclusion of the proper Malay terms. The Portuguese and Spaniards weretruly wonderful conquerors and colonizers. They effected more rapidchanges in the countries they conquered than any other nations of moderntimes, resembling the Romans in their power of impressing their ownlanguage, religion, and manners on rode and barbarous tribes. The striking contrast of character between these people and the Malaysis exemplified in many little traits. One day when I was rambling in theforest, an old man stopped to look at me catching an insect. He stoodvery quiet till I had pinned and put it away in my collecting box, whenhe could contain himself no longer, but bent almost double, and enjoyeda hearty roar of laughter. Every one will recognise this as a true negrotrait. A Malay would have stared, and asked with a tone of bewildermentwhat I was doing, for it is but little in his nature to laugh, neverheartily, and still less at or in the presence of a stranger, to whom, however, his disdainful glances or whispered remarks are less agreeablethan the most boisterous open expression of merriment. The women herewere not so much frightened at strangers, or made to keep themselves somuch secluded as among the Malay races; the children were more merry andhad the "nigger grin, " while the noisy confusion of tongues among themen, and their excitement on very ordinary occasions, are altogetherremoved from the general taciturnity and reserve of the Malay. The language of the Ke people consists of words of one, two, or threesyllables in about equal proportions, and has many aspirated and afew guttural sounds. The different villages have slight differences ofdialect, but they are mutually intelligible, and, except in wordsthat have evidently been introduced during a long-continued commercialintercourse, seem to have no affinity whatever with the Malay languages. Jan. 6th. -The small boats being finished, we sailed for Aru at 4 P. M. , and as we left the shores of Ke had a line view of its rugged andmountainous character; ranges of hills, three or four thousand feethigh, stretching southwards as far as the eye could reach, everywherecovered with a lofty, dense, and unbroken forest. We had very lightwinds, and it therefore took us thirty hours to make the passage ofsixty miles to the low, or flat, but equally forest-covered Aru Islands, where we anchored in the harbour of Dobbo at nine in the evening of thenext day. My first voyage in a prau being thus satisfactorily terminated, I must, before taking leave of it for some months, bear testimony to the meritsof the queer old-world vessel. Setting aside all ideas of danger, whichis probably, after all, not more than in any other craft, I must declarethat I have never, either before or since, made a twenty days' voyageso pleasantly, or perhaps, more correctly speaking, with so littlediscomfort. This I attribute chiefly to having my small cabin on deck, and entirely to myself, to having my own servants to wait upon me, andto the absence of all those marine-store smells of paint, pitch, tallow, and new cordage, which are to me insupportable. Something is also to beput down to freedom from all restraint of dress, hours of meals, &c. , and to the civility and obliging disposition of the captain. I hadagreed to have my meals with him, but whenever I wished it I had them inmy own berth, and at what hours I felt inclined. The crew were all civiland good-tempered, and with very little discipline everything went onsmoothly, and the vessel was kept very clean and in pretty good order, so that on the whole I was much delighted with the trip, and wasinclined to rate the luxuries of the semi-barbarous prau as surpassingthose of the most magnificent screw-steamer, that highest result of ourcivilisation. CHAPTER XXX. THE ARU ISLANDS--RESIDENCE IN DOBBO (JANUARY TO MARCH 1857. ) On the 8th of January, 1857, I landed at Dobbo, the trading settlementof the Bugis and Chinese, who annually visit the Aru Islands. Itis situated on the small island of Wamma, upon a spit of sand whichprojects out to the north, and is just wide enough to contain three rowsof houses. Though at first sight a most strange and desolate-lookingplace to build a village on, it has many advantages. There is a clearentrance from the west among the coral reefs that border the land, andthere is good anchorage for vessels, on one side of the village or theother, in both the east and west monsoons. Being fully exposed to thesea-breezes in three directions it is healthy, and the soft sandy heathoffers great facilities for hauling up the praus, in order to securethem from sea-worms and prepare them for the homeward voyage. At itssouthern extremity the sand-bank merges in the beach of the island, and is backed by a luxuriant growth of lofty forest. The houses are ofvarious sizes, but are all built after one pattern, being merely largethatched sheds, a small portion of which, next the entrance, is used asa dwelling, while the rest is parted oft; and often divided by one ortwo floors, in order better to stow away merchandise and native produce. As we had arrived early in the season, most of the houses wereempty, and the place looked desolate in the extreme--the whole ofthe inhabitants who received us on our landing amounting to abouthalf-a-dozen Bugis and Chinese. Our captain, Herr Warzbergen, hadpromised to obtain a house for me, but unforeseen difficulties presentedthemselves. One which was to let had no roof; and the owner, who wasbuilding it on speculation, could not promise to finish it in lessthan a month. Another, of which the owner was dead, and which I mighttherefore take undisputed possession of as the first comer, wantedconsiderable repairs, and no one could be found to do the work, although about four times its value was offered. The captain, therefore, recommended me to take possession of a pretty good house near his own, whose owner was not expected for some weeks; and as I was anxious to beon shore, I immediately had it cleared out, and by evening had all mythings housed, and was regularly installed as an inhabitant of Dobbo. I had brought with me a cane chair, and a few light boards, which weresoon rigged up into a table and shelves. A broad bamboo bench served assofa and bedstead, my boxes were conveniently arranged, my mats spreadon the floor, a window cut in the palm-leaf wall to light my table, and though the place was as miserable and gloomy a shed as could beimagined, I felt as contented as if I had obtained a well-furnishedmansion, and looked forward to a month's residence in it with unmixedsatisfaction. The next morning, after an early breakfast, I set off to explorethe virgin forests of Aru, anxious to set my mind at rest as to thetreasures they were likely to yield, and the probable success of mylong-meditated expedition. A little native imp was our guide, seduced bythe gift of a German knife, value three-halfpence, and my Macassar boyBaderoon brought his chopper to clear the path if necessary. We had to walk about half a mile along the beach, the ground behind thevillage being mostly swampy, and then turned into the forest along apath which leads to the native village of Wamma, about three miles offon the other side of the island. The path was a narrow one, and verylittle used, often swampy and obstructed by fallen trees, so that afterabout a mile we lost it altogether, our guide having turned back, and wewere obliged to follow his example. In the meantime, however, I had notbeen idle, and my day's captures determined the success of my journeyin an entomological point of view. I had taken about thirty species ofbutterflies, more than I had ever captured in a day since leaving theprolific banks of the Amazon, and among them were many most rare andbeautiful insects, hitherto only known by a few specimens from NewGuinea. The large and handsome spectre butterfly, Hestia durvillei; thepale-winged peacock butterfly, Drusilla catops; and the most brilliantand wonderful of the clear-winged moths, Cocytia durvillei, wereespecially interesting, as well, as several little "blues, " equalling inbrilliancy and beauty anything the butterfly world can produce. In theother groups of insects I was not so successful, but this was not tobe wondered at in a mere exploring ramble, when only what is mostconspicuous and novel attracts the attention. Several pretty beetles, asuperb "bug, " and a few nice land-shells were obtained, and I returnedin the afternoon well satisfied with my first trial of the promisedland. The next two days were so wet and windy that there was no going out; buton the succeeding one the sun shone brightly, and I had the good fortuneto capture one of the most magnificent insects the world contains, thegreat bird-winged butterfly, Ornithoptera Poseidon. I trembled withexcitement as I saw it coming majestically towards me, and could hardlybelieve I had really succeeded in my stroke till I had taken it outof the net and was gazing, lost in admiration, at the velvet black andbrilliant green of its wings, seven inches across, its bolder body, andcrimson breast. It is true I had seen similar insects in cabinets athome, but it is quite another thing to capture such oneself-to feel itstruggling between one's fingers, and to gaze upon its fresh and livingbeauty, a bright gem shirring out amid the silent gloom of a dark andtangled forest. The village of Dobbo held that evening at least onecontented man. Jan. 26th. --Having now been here a fortnight, I began to understand alittle of the place and its peculiarities. Praus continually arrived, and the merchant population increased almost daily. Every two or threedays a fresh house was opened, and the necessary repairs made. In everydirection men were bringing in poles, bamboos, rattans, and the leavesof the nipa palm to construct or repair the walls, thatch, doors, andshutters of their houses, which they do with great celerity. Some of thearrivals were Macassar men or Bugis, but more from the small island ofGoram, at the east end of Ceram, whose inhabitants are the petty tradersof the far East. Then the natives of Aru come in from the other side ofthe islands (called here "blakang tana, " or "back of the country") withthe produce they have collected during the preceding six months, andwhich they now sell to the traders, to some of whom they are most likelyin debt. Almost all, or I may safely say all, the new arrivals pay me a visit, to see with their own eyes the unheard-of phenomenon of a person come tostay at Dobbo who does not trade! They have their own ideas of the usesthat may possibly be made of stuffed birds, beetles, and shells whichare not the right shells--that is, "mother-of-pearl. " They every daybring me dead and broken shells, such as I can pick up by hundreds onthe beach, and seem quite puzzled and distressed when I decline them. If, however, there are any snail shells among a lot, I take them, andask for more--a principle of selection so utterly unintelligible tothem, that they give it up in despair, or solve the problem by imputinghidden medical virtue to those which they see me preserve so carefully. These traders are all of the Malay race, or a mixture of which Malay isthe chef ingredient, with the exception of a few Chinese. The natives ofAru, on the other hand, are, Papuans, with black or sooty brown skims, woolly or frizzly hair, thick-ridged prominent noses, and rather slenderlimbs. Most of them wear nothing but a waist-cloth, and a few of themmay be seen all day long wandering about the half-deserted streets ofDobbo offering their little bit of merchandise for sale. Living in a trader's house everything is brought to me as well as tothe rest, --bundles of smoked tripang, or "beche de mer, " looking likesausages which have been rolled in mud and then thrown up the chimney;dried sharks' fins, mother-of-pearl shells, as well as birds ofParadise, which, however, are so dirty and so badly preserved that Ihave as yet found no specimens worth purchasing. When I hardly look atthe articles, and make no offer for them, they seem incredulous, and, as if fearing they have misunderstood me, again offer them, and declarewhat they want in return--knives, or tobacco, or sago, or handkerchiefs. I then have to endeavour to explain, through any interpreter who may beat hand, that neither tripang nor pearl oyster shells have any charmsfor me, and that I even decline to speculate in tortoiseshell, but thatanything eatable I will buy--fish, or turtle, or vegetables of any sort. Almost the only food, however, that we can obtain with any regularity, are fish and cockles of very good quality, and to supply our dailywants it is absolutely necessary to be always provided with fourarticles--tobacco, knives, sago-cakes, and Dutch copper doits--becausewhen the particular thing asked for is not forthcoming, the fish passon to the next house, and we may go that day without a dinner. Itis curious to see the baskets and buckets used here. The cockles arebrought in large volute shells, probably the Cymbium ducale, whilegigantic helmet-shells, a species of Cassis, suspended by a rattanhandle, form the vessels in which fresh water is daily carried past mydoor. It is painful to a naturalist to see these splendid shells withtheir inner whorls ruthlessly broken away to fit them for their ignobleuse. My collections, however, got on but slowly, owing to the unexpectedlybad weather, violent winds with heavy showers having been so continuousas only to give me four good collecting days out of the first sixteen Ispent here. Yet enough had been collected to show me that with time andfine weather I might expect to do something good. From the natives Iobtained some very fine insects and a few pretty land-shells; and ofthe small number of birds yet shot more than half were known New Guineaspecies, and therefore certainly rare in European collections, while theremainder were probably new. In one respect my hopes seemed doomed tobe disappointed. I had anticipated the pleasure of myself preparing finespecimens of the Birds of Paradise, but I now learnt that they are allat this season out of plumage, and that it is in September and Octoberthat they have the long plumes of yellow silky feathers in fullperfection. As all the praus return in July, I should not be able tospend that season in Aru without remaining another whole year, whichwas out of the question. I was informed, however, that the smallred species, the "King Bird of Paradise, " retains its plumage at allseasons, and this I might therefore hope to get. As I became familiar with the forest scenery of the island, I perceivedit to possess some characteristic features that distinguished itfrom that of Borneo and Malacca, while, what is very singular andinteresting, it recalled to my mind the half-forgotten impressions ofthe forests of Equatorial America. For example, the palms were much moreabundant than I had generally found them in the East, more generallymingled with the other vegetation, more varied in form and aspect, and presenting some of those lofty and majestic smooth-stemmed, pinnate-leaved species which recall the Uauassu (Attalea speciosa) ofthe Amazon, but which I had hitherto rarely met with in the Malayanislands. In animal life the immense number and variety of spiders and of lizardswere circumstances that recalled the prolific regions of south America, more especially the abundance and varied colours of the little jumpingspiders which abound on flowers and foliage, and are often perfect gemsof beauty. The web-spinning species were also more numerous than I hadever seen them, and were a great annoyance, stretching their netsacross the footpaths just about the height of my face; and the threadscomposing these are so strong and glutinous as to require much troubleto free oneself from them. Then their inhabitants, great yellow-spottedmonsters with bodies two inches long, and legs in proportion, arenot pleasant to o run one's nose against while pursuing some gorgeousbutterfly, or gazing aloft in search of some strange-voiced bird. I soonfound it necessary not only to brush away the web, but also to destroythe spinner; for at first, having cleared the path one day, I found thenext morning that the industrious insects had spread their nets again inthe very same places. The lizards were equally striking by their numbers, variety, and thesituations in which they were found. The beautiful blue-tailed speciesso abundant in Ke was not seen here. The Aru lizards are more variedbut more sombre in their colours--shades of green, grey, brown, and evenblack, being very frequently seen. Every shrub and herbaceous plant wasalive with them, every rotten trunk or dead branch served as a stationfor some of these active little insect-hunters, who, I fear, to satisfytheir gross appetites, destroy many gems of the insect world, whichwould feast the eyes and delight the heart of our more discriminatingentomologists. Another curious feature of the jungle here was themultitude of sea-shells everywhere met with on the ground and high up onthe branches and foliage, all inhabited by hermit-crabs, who forsake thebeach to wander in the forest. I lave actually seen a spider carryingaway a good-sized shell and devouring its (probably juvenile) tenant. Onthe beach, which I had to walls along every morning to reach the forest, these creatures swarmed by thousands. Every dead shell, from the largestto the most minute, was appropriated by them. They formed small socialparties of ten or twenty around bits of stick or seaweed, but dispersedhurriedly at the sound of approaching footsteps. After a windy night, that nasty-looking Chinese delicacy the sea-slug was sometimes thrownup on the beach, which was at such times thickly strewn with some of themost beautiful shells that adorn our cabinets, along with fragmentsand masses of coral and strange sponges, of which I picked up more thantwenty different sorts. In many cases sponge and coral are so muchalike that it is only on touching them that they can be distinguished. Quantities of seaweed, too, are thrown up; but strange as it may seem, these are far less beautiful and less varied than may be found on anyfavourable part of our own coasts. The natives here, even those who seem to be of pare Papuan race, weremuch more reserved and taciturn than those of Ke. This is probablybecause I only saw them as yet among strangers and in small parties, One must see the savage at home to know what he really is. Even here, however, the Papuan character sometimes breaks out. Little boys singcheerfully as they walk along, or talk aloud to themselves (quite anegro characteristic); and try all they can, the men cannot concealtheir emotions in the true Malay fashion. A number of them were one dayin my house, and having a fancy to try what sort of eating tripang wouldbe, I bought a couple, paying for them with such an extravagant quantityof tobacco that the seller saw I was a green customer. He could not, however, conceal his delight, but as he smelt the fragrant weed, andexhibited the large handful to his companions, he grinned and twistedand gave silent chuckles in a most expressive pantomime. I had oftenbefore made the same mistake in paying a Malay for some trifle. In nocase, however, was his pleasure visible on his countenance--a dull andstupid hesitation only showing his surprise, which would be exhibitedexactly in the same way whether he was over or under paid. These littlemoral traits are of the greatest interest when taken in connexion withphysical features. They do not admit of the same ready explanation byexternal causes which is so frequently applied to the latter. Writerson the races of mankind have too often to trust to the information oftravellers who pass rapidly from country to country, and thus have fewopportunities of becoming acquainted with peculiarities of nationalcharacter, or even of ascertaining what is really the average physicalconformation of the people. Such are exceedingly apt to be deceivedin places where two races have long, intermingled, by looking onintermediate forms and mixed habits as evidences of a natural transitionfrom one race to the other, instead of an artificial mixture of twodistinct peoples; and they will be the more readily led into this errorif, as in the present case, writers on the subject should have been inthe habit of classing these races as mere varieties of one stock, asclosely related in physical conformation as from their geographicalproximity one might suppose they ought to be. So far as I have yet seen, the Malay and Papuan appear to be as widely separated as any two humanraces that exist, being distinguished by physical, mental, and moralcharacteristics, all of the most marked and striking kind. Feb 5th. --I took advantage of a very fine calm day to pay a visit to theisland of Wokan, which is about a mile from us, and forms part of the"canna busar, " or mainland of Aru. This is a large island, extendingfrom north to south about a hundred miles, but so low in many parts asto be intersected by several creeks, which run completely through it, offering a passage for good-sized vessels. On the west side, where weare, there are only a few outlying islands, of which ours (Wamma) isthe principal; but on the east coast are a great number of islands, extending some miles beyond the mainland, and forming the "blakangtang, " or "back country, " of the traders, being the principal seat ofthe pearl, tripang, and tortoiseshell fisheries. To the mainland many ofthe birds and animals of the country are altogether confined; theBirds of paradise, the black cockatoo, the great brush-turkey, andthe cassowary, are none of them found on Wamma or any of the detachedislands. I did not, however, expect in this excursion to see any decideddifference in the forest or its productions, and was therefore agreeablysurprised. The beach was overhung with the drooping branches of lametrees, loaded with Orchideae, ferns, and other epiphytal plants. In theforest there was more variety, some parts being dry, and with trees ofa lower growth, while in others there were some of the most beautifulpalms I have ever seen, with a perfectly straight, smooth, slender stem, a hundred feet high, and a crown of handsome drooping leaves. Butthe greatest novelty and most striking feature to my eyes were thetree-ferns, which, after seven years spent in the tropics, I now saw inperfection for the first time. All I had hitherto met with were slenderspecies, not more than twelve feet high, and they gave not the leastidea of the supreme beauty of trees bearing their elegant headsof fronds more than thirty feet in the air, like those which wereplentifully scattered about this forest. There is nothing in tropicalvegetation so perfectly beautiful. My boys shot five sorts of birds, none of which we had obtained duringa month's shooting in Wamma. Two were very pretty flycatchers, alreadyknown from New Guinea; one of them (Monarcha chrysomela), of brilliantblack and bright orange colours, is by some authors considered to be themost beautiful of all flycatchers; the other is pure white and velvetyblack, with a broad fleshy ring round the eye of are azure blue colour;it is named the "spectacled flycatcher" (Monarcha telescopthalma), and was first found in New Guinea, along with the other, by the Frenchnaturalists during the voyage of the discovery-ship Coquille. Feb. 18th. --Before leaving Macassar, I had written to the Governor ofAmboyna requesting him to assist me with the native chiefs of Aru. I nowreceived by a vessel which had arrived from Amboyna a very polite answerinforming me that orders had been sent to give me every assistance thatI might require; and I was just congratulating myself on being atlength able to get a boat and men to go to the mainland and explorethe interior, when a sudden check came in the form of a piraticalincursion. A small prau arrived which had been attacked by pirates andhad a man wounded. They were said to have five boats, but more wereexpected to be behind and the traders were all in consternation, fearingthat their small vessels sent trading to the "blakang tana" would beplundered. The Aru natives were of course dreadfully alarmed, as thesemarauders attack their villages, burn and murder, and carry away womenand children for slaves. Not a man will stir from his village for sometime, and I must remain still a prisoner in Dobbo. The Governor ofAmboyna, out of pure kindness, has told the chiefs that they are to beresponsible for my safety, so that they have au excellent excuse forrefusing to stir. Several praus went out in search of the pirates, sentinels wereappointed, and watch-fires lighted on the beach to guard against thepossibility of a night attack, though it was hardly thought they wouldbe bold enough to attempt to plunder Dobbo. The next day the prausreturned, and we had positive information that these scourges of theEastern seas were really among us. One of Herr Warzbergen's small prausalso arrived in a sad plight. It had been attacked six days before, justas it was returning, from the "blakang tana. " The crew escaped intheir small boat and hid in the jungle, while the pirates came upand plundered the vessel. They took away everything but the cargo ofmother-of-pearl shell, which was too bulky for them. All the clothes andboxes of the men, and the sails and cordage of the prau, were clearedoff. They had four large war boats, and fired a volley of musketry asthey came up, and sent off their small boats to the attack. After theyhad left, our men observed from their concealment that three had stayedbehind with a small boat; and being driven to desperation by the sightof the plundering, one brave fellow swam off armed only with his parang, or chopping-knife, and coming on them unawares made a desperate attack, killing one and wounding the other two, receiving himself numbers ofslight wounds, and then swimming off again when almost exhausted. Twoother prams were also plundered, and the crew of one of them murdered toa man. They are said to be Sooloo pirates, but have Bugis among them. On their way here they have devastated one of the small islands east ofCeram. It is now eleven years since they have visited Aru, and by thusmaking their attacks at long and uncertain intervals the alarmdies away, and they find a population for the most part unarmed andunsuspicious of danger. None of the small trading vessels now carryarms, though they did so for a year or two after the last attack, whichwas just the time when there was the least occasion for it. A week laterone of the smaller pirate boats was captured in the "blakang tana. "Seven men were killed and three taken prisoners. The larger vessels havebeen often seen but cannot be caught, as they have very strong crews, and can always escape by rowing out to sea in the eye of the wind, returning at night. They will thus remain among the innumerable islandsand channels, till the change of the monsoon enables them to sailwestward. March 9th. -For four or five days we have had a continual gale of wind, with occasional gusts of great fury, which seem as if they would sendDobbo into the sea. Rain accompanies it almost every alternate hour, sothat it is not a pleasant time. During such weather I can do little, butam busy getting ready a boat I have purchased, for an excursion intothe interior. There is immense difficulty about men, but I believe the"Orang-kaya, " or head man of Wamma, will accompany me to see that Idon't run into danger. Having become quite an old inhabitant of Dobbo, I will endeavour tosketch the sights and sounds that pervade it, and the manners andcustoms of its inhabitants. The place is now pretty full, and thestreets present a far more cheerful aspect than when we first arrived. Every house is a store, where the natives barter their produce forwhat they are most in need of. Knives, choppers, swords, guns, tobacco, gambier, plates, basins, handkerchiefs, sarongs, calicoes, and arrack, are the principal articles wanted by the natives; but some of the storescontain also tea, coffee, sugar, wine, biscuits, &c. , for the supplyof the traders; and others are full of fancy goods, china ornaments, looking-glasses, razors, umbrellas, pipes, and purses, which take thefancy of the wealthier natives. Every fine day mats are spread beforethe doors and the tripang is put out to dry, as well as sugar, salt, biscuit, tea, cloths, and other things that get injured byan excessively moist atmosphere. In the morning and evening, spruceChinamen stroll about or chat at each other's doors, in blue trousers, white jacket, and a queue into which red silk is plaited till it reachesalmost to their heels. An old Bugis hadji regularly takes an eveningstroll in all the dignity of flowing green silk robe and gay turban, followed by two small boys carrying his sirih and betel boxes. In every vacant space new houses are being built, and all sorts of oddlittle cooking-sheds are erected against the old ones, while in someout-of-the-way corners, massive log pigsties are tenanted by growingporkers; for how can the Chinamen exist six months without one feast ofpig? Here and there are stalls where bananas are sold, and every morningtwo little boys go about with trays of sweet rice and crated cocoa-nut, fried fish, or fried plantains; and whichever it may be, they havebut one cry, and that is "Chocolat-t--t!" This must be a Spanish orPortuguese cry, handed down for centuries, while its meaning has beenlost. The Bugis sailors, while hoisting the main sail, cry out, "Vela avela, --vela, vela, vela!" repeated in an everlasting chorus. As "vela"is Portuguese a sail, I supposed I had discovered the origin of this, but I found afterwards they used the same cry when heaving anchor, andoften chanted it to "hela, " which is so much an universal expressionof exertion and hard breathing that it is most probably a mereinterjectional cry. I daresay there are now near five hundred people in Dobbo of variousraces, all met in this remote corner of the East, as they express it, "to look for their fortune;" to get money any way they can. They aremost of them people who have the very worst reputation for honesty aswell as every other form of morality, --Chinese, Bugis, Ceramese, andhalf-caste Javanese, with a sprinkling of half-wild Papuans from Timor, Babber, and other islands, yet all goes on as yet very quietly. Thismotley, ignorant, bloodthirsty, thievish population live here withoutthe shadow of a government, with no police, no courts, and no lawyers;yet they do not cut each other's throats, do not plunder each other dayand night, do not fall into the anarchy such a state of things might besupposed to lead to. It is very extraordinary! It puts strange thoughtsinto one's head about the mountain-load of government under which peopleexist in Europe, and suggests the idea that we may be over-governed. Think of the hundred Acts of Parliament annually enacted to prevent us, the people of England, from cutting each other's throats, or from doingto our neighbour as we would not be done by. Think of the thousands oflawyers and barristers whose whole lives are spent in telling us whatthe hundred Acts of Parliament mean, and one would be led to infer thatif Dobbo has too little law England has too much. Here we may behold in its simplest form the genius of Commerce at thework of Civilization. Trade is the magic that keeps all at peace, andunites these discordant elements into a well-behaved community. Allare traders, and know that peace and order are essential to successfultrade, and thus a public opinion is created which puts down alllawlessness. Often in former year, when strolling along the Campong Glamin Singapore, I have thought how wild and ferocious the Bugis sailorslooked, and how little should like to trust myself among them. But now Ifind them to be very decent, well-behaved fellows; I walk daily unarmedin the jungle, where I meet them continually; I sleep in a palm-leafhut, which any one may enter, with as little fear and as littledanger of thieves or murder as if I were under the protection of theMetropolitan police. It is true the Dutch influence is felt here. Theislands are nominally under the government of the Moluccas, which thenative chiefs acknowledge; and in most years a commissioner arrives fromAmboyna, who makes the tour of the islands, hears complaints, settledisputes, and carries away prisoner any heinous offender. This year heis not expected to come, as no orders have yet been received to preparefor him; so the people of Dobbo will probably be left to their owndevices. One day a man was caught in the act of stealing a piece ofiron from Herr Warzbergen's house, which he had entered by making a holethrough the thatch wall. In the evening the chief traders of the place, Bugis and Chinese, assembled, the offender was tried and found guilty, and sentenced to receive twenty lashes on the spot. They were givenwith a small rattan in the middle of the street, not very severely, the executioner appeared to sympathise a little with the culprit. Thedisgrace seemed to be thought as much of as the pain; for though anyamount of clever cheating is thought rather meritorious than otherwise, open robbery and housebreaking meet with universal reprobation. CHAPTER XXXI. THE ARU ISLANDS. --JOURNEY AND RESIDENCE IN THE INTERIOR. (MARCH TO MAY 1857. ) MY boat was at length ready, and having obtained two men besides my ownservants, after an enormous amount of talk and trouble, we left Dobbo onthe morning of March 13th, for the mainland of Aru. By noon we reachedthe mouth of a small river or creek, which we ascended, winding amongmangrove, swamps, with here and there a glimpse of dry land. In twohours we reached a house, or rather small shed, of the most miserabledescription, which our steersman, the "Orang-kaya" of Wamma, said wasthe place we were to stay at, and where he had assured me we could getevery kind of bird and beast to be found in Aru. The shed was occupiedby about a dozen men, women, and children; two cooking fires wereburning in it, and there seemed little prospect of my obtainingany accommodation. I however deferred inquiry till I had seen theneighbouring forest, and immediately started off with two men, net, andguns, along a path at the back of the house. In an hour's walk I sawenough to make me determine to give the place a trial, and on my return, finding the "Orang-kaya" was in a strong fever-fit and unable to doanything, I entered into negotiations with the owner of the house forthe use of a slip at one end of it about five feet wide, for a week, and agreed to pay as rent one "parang, " or chopping-knife. I thenimmediately got my boxes and bedding out of the boat, hung up a shelffor my bird-skins and insects, and got all ready for work next morning. My own boys slept in the boat to guard the remainder of my property; acooking place sheltered by a few mats was arranged under a tree closeby, and I felt that degree of satisfaction and enjoyment which I alwaysexperience when, after much trouble and delay, I am on the point ofbeginning work in a new locality. One of my first objects was to inquire for the people who are accustomedto shoot the Paradise birds. They lived at some distance in the jungle, and a man was sent to call them. When they arrived, we had a talk bymeans of the "Orang-kaya" as interpreter, and they said they thoughtthey could get some. They explained that they shoot the birds with a bowand arrow, the arrow having a conical wooden cap fitted to the end aslarge as a teacup, so as to kill the bird by the violence of the blowwithout making any wound or shedding any blood. The trees frequentedby the birds are very lofty; it is therefore necessary to erect a smallleafy covering or hut among the branches, to which the hunter mountsbefore daylight in the morning and remains the whole day, and whenevera bird alights they are almost sure of securing it. (See Frontispiece. )They returned to their homes the same evening, and I never saw anythingmore of them, owing, as I afterwards found, to its being too early toobtain birds in good plumage. The first two or three days of our stay here were very wet, and Iobtained but few insects or birds, but at length, when I was beginningto despair, my boy Baderoon returned one day with a specimen whichrepaid me for months of delay and expectation. It was a small bird alittle less than a thrush. The greater part of its plumage was of anintense cinnabar red, with a gloss as of spun glass. On the head thefeathers became short and velvety, and shaded into rich orange. Beneath, from the breast downwards, was pure white, with the softness and glossof silk, and across the breast a band of deep metallic green separatedthis colour from the red of the throat. Above each eye was a round spotof the same metallic green; the bill was yellow, and the feet and legswere of a fine cobalt óille, strikingly contrasting with all the otherparts of the body. Merely in arrangement of colours and texture ofplumage this little bird was a gem of the first water, yet therecomprised only half its strange beauty. Springing from each side ofthe breast, and ordinarily lying concealed under the wings, were littletufts of greyish feathers about two inches long, and each terminated bya broad band of intense emerald green. These plumes can be raised at thewill of the bird, and spread out into a pair of elegant fans when thewings are elevated. But this is not the only ornament. The two middlefeathers of the tail are in the form of slender wires about five incheslong, and which diverge in a beautiful double curve. About half an inchof the end of this wire is webbed on the outer side only, awe colouredof a fine metallic green, and being curled spirally inwards form a pairof elegant glittering buttons, hanging five inches below the body, andthe same distance apart. These two ornaments, the breast fans and thespiral tipped tail wires, are altogether unique, not occurring on anyother species of the eight thousand different birds that are known toexist upon the earth; and, combined with the most exquisite beauty ofplumage, render this one of the most perfectly lovely of the many lovelyproductions of nature. My transports of admiration and delight quiteamused my Aru hosts, who saw nothing more in the "Burong raja" than wedo in the robin of the goldfinch. Thus one of my objects in coming to the far fast was accomplished. Ihad obtained a specimen of the King Bird of Paradise (Paradisea regia), which had been described by Linnaeus from skins preserved in a mutilatedstate by the natives. I knew how few Europeans had ever beheld theperfect little organism I now gazed upon, and how very imperfectlyit was still known in Europe. The emotions excited in the minds of anaturalist, who has long desired to see the actual thing which he hashitherto known only by description, drawing, or badly-preserved externalcovering--especially when that thing is of surpassing rarity and beauty, require the poetic faculty fully to express them. The remote island inwhich I found myself situated, in an almost unvisited sea, far fromthe tracks of merchant fleets and navies; the wild luxuriant tropicalforest, which stretched far away on every side; the rude unculturedsavages who gathered round me, --all had their influence in determiningthe emotions with which I gazed upon this "thing of beauty. " I thoughtof the long ages of the past, during which the successive generations ofthis little creature had run their course--year by year being born, andliving and dying amid these dark and gloomy woods, with no intelligenteye to gaze upon their loveliness; to all appearance such a wanton wasteof beauty. Such ideas excite a feeling of melancholy. It seems sad, thaton the one hand such exquisite creatures should live out their lives andexhibit their charms only in these wild inhospitable regions, doomed forages yet to come to hopeless barbarism; while on the other hand, should civilized man ever reach these distant lands, and bring moral, intellectual, and physical light into the recesses of these virginforests, we may be sure that he will so disturb the nicely-balancedrelations of organic and inorganic nature as to cause the disappearance, and finally the extinction, of these very beings whose wonderfulstructure and beauty he alone is fitted to appreciate and enjoy. Thisconsideration must surely tell us that all living things were _not_made for man. Many of them have no relation to him. The cycle of theirexistence has gone on independently of his, and is disturbed or brokenby every advance in man's intellectual development; and their happinessand enjoyment, their loves and hates, their struggles for existence, their vigorous life and early death, would seem to be immediatelyrelated to their own well-being and perpetuation alone, limited only bythe equal well-being and perpetuation of the numberless other organismswith which each is more or less intimately connected. After the first king-bird was obtained, I went with my men into theforest, and we were not only rewarded with another in equally perfectplumage, but I was enabled to see a little of the habits of both itand the larger species. It frequents the lower trees of the less denseforests: and is very active, flying strongly with a whirring sound, and continually hopping or flying from branch to branch. It eats hardstone-bearing fruits as large as a gooseberry, and often flutters itswings after the manner of the South American manakins, at which timeit elevates and expands the beautiful fans with which its breast isadorned. The natives of Aru call it "Goby-goby. " One day I get under a tree where a number of the Great Paradise birdswere assembled, but they were high up in the thickest of the foliage, and flying and jumping about so continually that I could get no goodview of them. At length I shot one, but it was a young specimen, and wasentirely of a rich chocolate-brown colour, without either the metallicgreen throat or yellow plumes of the full-grown bird. All that I had yetseen resembled this, and the natives told me that it would be abouttwo months before any would be found in full plumage. I still hoped, therefore, to get some. Their voice is most extraordinary. At earlymorn, before the sun has risen, we hear a loud cry of "Wawk-wawk-wawk, wók-wók-wók, " which resounds through the forest, changing its directioncontinually. This is the Great Bird of Paradise going to seek hisbreakfast. Others soon follow his example; lories and parroquets cryshrilly, cockatoos scream, king-hunters croak and bark, and the varioussmaller birds chirp and whistle their morning song. As I lie listeningto these interesting sounds, I realize my position as the first Europeanwho has ever lived for months together in the Aru islands, a place whichI had hoped rather than expected ever to visit. I think how many besidesmy self have longed to reach these almost fairy realms, and to see withtheir own eyes the many wonderful and beautiful things which I am dailyencountering. But now Ali and Baderoon are up and getting ready theirguns and ammunition, and little Brio has his fire lighted and is boilingmy coffee, and I remember that I had a black cockatoo brought in latelast night, which I must skin immediately, and so I jump up and begin myday's work very happily. This cockatoo is the first I have seen, and is a great prize. It hasa rather small and weak body, long weak legs, large wings, and anenormously developed head, ornamented with a magnificent crest, andarmed with a sharp-pointed hoofed bill of immense size and strength. Theplumage is entirely black, but has all over it the curious powdery whitesecretion characteristic of cockatoo. The cheeks are bare, and of anintense blood-red colour. Instead of the harsh scream of the whitecockatoos, its voice is a somewhat plaintive whistle. The tongue is acurious organ, being a slender fleshy cylinder of a deep red colour, terminated by a horny black plate, furrowed across and somewhatprehensile. The whole tongue has a considerable extensile power. I willhere relate something of the habits of this bird, with which I havesince become acquainted. It frequents the lower parts of the forest, andis seen singly, or at most two or three together. It flies slowly andnoiselessly, and may be killed by a comparatively slight wound. It eatsvarious fruits and seeds, but seems more particularly attached to thekernel of the kanary-nut, which grows on a lofty forest tree (Canariumcommune), abundant in the islands where this bird is found; and themanner in which it gets at these seeds shows a correlation of structureand habits, which would point out the "kanary" as its special food. Theshell of this nut is so excessively hard that only a heavy hammer willcrack it; it is somewhat triangular, and the outside is quite smooth. The manner in which the bird opens these nuts is very curious. Takingone endways in its bill and keeping it firm by a pressure of the tongue, it cuts a transverse notch by a lateral sawing motion of the sharp-edgedlower mandible. This done, it takes hold of the nut with its foot, andbiting off a piece of leaf retains it in the deep notch of the uppermandible, and again seizing the nut, which is prevented from slipping bythe elastic tissue of the leaf, fixes the edge of the lower mandible inthe notch, and by a powerful nip breaks of a piece of the shell, againtaking the nut in its claws, it inserts the very long and sharp pointof the bill and picks out the kernel, which is seized hold of, morselby morsel, by the extensible tongue. Thus every detail of form andstructure in the extraordinary bill of this bird seems to have its use, and we may easily conceive that the black cockatoos have maintainedthemselves in competition with their more active and more numerous whiteallies, by their power of existing on a kind of food which no other birdis able to extract from its stony shell. The species is the Microglossumaterrimum of naturalists. During the two weeks which I spent in this little settlement, I had goodopportunities of observing the natives at their own home, and living intheir usual manner. There is a great monotony and uniformity in everydaysavage life, and it seemed to me a more miserable existence than when ithad the charm of novelty. To begin with the most important fact inthe existence of uncivilized peoples--their food--the Aru men have noregular supply, no staff of life, such as bread, rice, mandiocca, maize, or sago, which are the daily food of a large proportion of mankind. They have, however, many sorts of vegetables, plantains, yams, sweetpotatoes, and raw sago; and they chew up vast quantities of sugar-cane, as well as betel-nuts, gambir, and tobacco. Those who live on the coasthave plenty of fish; but when inland, as we are here, they only go tothe sea occasionally, and then bring home cockles and other shell-fishby the boatload. Now and then they get wild pig or kangaroo, but toorarely to form anything like a regular part of their diet, which isessentially vegetable; and what is of more importance, as affectingtheir health, green, watery vegetables, imperfectly cooked, and eventhese in varying and often in sufficient quantities. To this diet may beattributed the prevalence of skin diseases, and ulcers on the legs andjoints. The scurfy skin disease so common among savages has a closeconnexion with the poorness and irregularity of their living. TheMalays, who are never without their daily rice, are generally free fromit; the hill-Dyaks of Borneo, who grow rice and live well, are cleanskinned while the less industrious and less cleanly tribes, who live fora portion of the year on fruits and vegetables only, are very subject tothis malady. It seems clear that in this, as in other respects, manis not able to make a beast of himself with impunity, feeding like thecattle on the herbs and fruits of the earth, and taking no thought ofthe morrow. To maintain his health and beauty he must labour to preparesome farinaceous product capable of being stored and accumulated, so asto give him a regular supply of wholesome food. When this is obtained, he may add vegetables, fruits, and meat with advantage. The chief luxury of the Aru people, besides betel and tobacco, is arrack(Java rum), which the traders bring in great quantities and sell verycheap. A day's fishing or rattan cutting will purchase at least ahalf-gallon bottle; and when the tripang or birds' nests collectedduring a season are sold, they get whole boxes, each containing fifteensuch bottles, which the inmates of a house will sit round day and nighttill they have finished. They themselves tell me that at such bouts theyoften tear to pieces the house they are in, break and destroy everythingthey can lay their hands on, and make such an infernal riot as isalarming to behold. The houses and furniture are on a par with the food. A rude shed, supported on rough and slender sticks rather than posts, no walls, but the floor raised to within a foot of the eaves, is the style ofarchitecture they usually adopt. Inside there are partition walls ofthatch, forming little boxes or sleeping places, to accommodate thetwo or three separate families that usually live together. A few mats, baskets, and cooking vessels, with plates and basins purchased from theMacassar traders, constitute their whole furniture; spears and bowsare their weapons; a sarong or mat forms the clothing of the women, awaistcloth of the men. For hours or even for days they sit idle in theirhouses, the women bringing in the vegetables or sago which form theirfood. Sometimes they hunt or fish a little, or work at their houses orcanoes, but they seem to enjoy pure idleness, and work as little as theycan. They have little to vary the monotony of life, little that can becalled pleasure, except idleness and conversation. And they certainlydo talk! Every evening there is a little Babel around me: but as Iunderstand not a word of it, I go on with my book or work undisturbed. Now and then they scream and shout, or laugh frantically for variety;and this goes on alternately with vociferous talking of men, women, andchildren, till long after I am in my mosquito curtain and sound asleep. At this place I obtained some light on the complicated mixture ofraces in Aru, which would utterly confound an ethnologist. Many of thenatives, though equally dark with the others, have little of the Papuanphysiognomy, but have more delicate features of the European type, withmore glossy, curling hair: These at first quite puzzled me, for theyhave no more resemblance to Malay than to Papuan, and the darkness ofskin and hair would forbid the idea of Dutch intermixture. Listening totheir conversation, however, I detected some words that were familiarto me. "Accabó" was one; and to be sure that it was not an accidentalresemblance, I asked the speaker in Malay what "accabó" meant, andwas told it meant "done or finished, " a true Portuguese word, with itsmeaning retained. Again, I heard the word "jafui" often repeated, andcould see, without inquiry, that its meaning was "he's gone, " as inPortuguese. "Porco, " too, seems a common name, though the people have noidea of its European meaning. This cleared up the difficulty. I at onceunderstood that some early Portuguese traders had penetrated to theseislands, and mixed with the natives, influencing their language, and leaving in their descendants for many generations the visiblecharacteristics of their race. If to this we add the occasional mixtureof Malay, Dutch, and Chinese with the indigenous Papuans, we haveno reason to wonder at the curious varieties of form and featureoccasionally to be met with in Aru. In this very house there was aMacassar man, with an Aru wife and a family of mixed children. In DobboI saw a Javanese and an Amboyna man, each with an Aru wife and family;and as this kind of mixture has been going on for at least three hundredyears, and probably much longer, it has produced a decided effect on thephysical characteristics of a considerable portion of the population ofthe islands, more especially in Dobbo and the parts nearest to it. March 28th. --The "Orang-kaya" being very ill with fever had begged to gohome, and had arranged with one of the men of the house to go on with meas his substitute. Now that I wanted to move, the bugbear of the pirateswas brought up, and it was pronounced unsafe to go further than the nextsmall river. This world not suit me, as I had determined to traverse thechannel called Watelai to the "blakang-tana;" but my guide was firmin his dread of pirates, of which I knew there was now no danger, asseveral vessels had gone in search of them, as well as a Dutch gunboatwhich had arrived since I left Dobbo. I had, fortunately, by this timeheard that the Dutch "Commissie" had really arrived, and thereforethreatened that if my guide did not go with me immediately, I wouldappeal to the authorities, and he would certainly be obliged to giga back the cloth which the "Orang-kaya" had transferred to him inprepayment. This had the desired effect; matters were soon arranged, andwe started the next morning. The wind, however, was dead against us, and after rowing hard till midday we put in to a small river wherethere were few huts, to cook our dinners. The place did not look verypromising, but as we could not reach our destination, the Watelai river, owing to the contrary wind, I thought we might as well wait here a dayor two. I therefore paid a chopper for the use of a small shed, andgot my bed and some boxes on shore. In the evening, after dark, we weresuddenly alarmed by the cry of "Bajak! bajak!" (Pirates!) The men allseized their bows and spears, and rushed down to the beach; we got holdof our guns and prepared for action, but in a few minutes all came backlaughing and chattering, for it had proved to be only a small boat andsome of their own comrades returned from fishing. When all was quietagain, one of the men, who could speak a little Malay, came to me andbegged me not to sleep too hard. "Why?" said I. "Perhaps the pirates mayreally come, " said he very seriously, which made me laugh and assure himI should sleep as hard as I could. Two days were spent here, but the place was unproductive of insects orbirds of interest, so we made another attempt to get on. As soon as wegot a little away from the land we had a fair wind, and in six hours'sailing reached the entrance of the Watelai channel, which divides themost northerly from the middle portion of Aru. At its mouth this wasabout half a mile wide, but soon narrowed, and a mile or two on itassumed entirely the aspect of a river about the width of the Thames atLondon, winding among low but undulating and often hilly country. The scene was exactly such as might be expected in the interior ofa continent. The channel continued of a uniform average width, withreaches and sinuous bends, one bank being often precipitous, or evenforming vertical cliffs, while the other was flat and apparentlyalluvial; and it was only the pure salt-water, and the absence of anystream but the slight flux and reflux of the tide, that would enable aperson to tell that he was navigating a strait and not a river. Thewind was fair, and carried us along, with occasional assistance from ouroars, till about three in the afternoon, when we landed where a littlebrook formed two or three basins in the coral rock, and then fell in aminiature cascade into the salt water river. Here we bathed and cookedour dinner, and enjoyed ourselves lazily till sunset, when we pursuedour way for two hours snore, and then moored our little vessel to anoverhanging tree for the night. At five the next morning we started again, and in an hour overtook fourlarge praus containing the "Commissie, " who had come from Dobbo to maketheir official tour round the islands, and had passed us in the eight. Ipaid a visit to the Dutchmen, one of whom spoke a little English, butwe found that we could get on much better with Malay. They told me thatthey had been delayed going after the pirates to one of the northernislands, and had seen three of their vessels but could not catch them, because on being pursued they rowed out in the wind's eye, which theyare enabled to do by having about fifty oars to each boat. Having hadsome tea with thorn, I bade them adieu, and turned up a narrow channelwhich our pilot said would take us to the village of Watelai, on thewest side of Are. After going some miles we found the channel nearlyblocked up with coral, so that our boat grated along the bottom, crunching what may truly be called the living rock. Sometimes all handshad to get out and wade, to lighten the vessel and lift it over theshallowest places; but at length we overcame all obstacles and reached awide bay or estuary studded with little rocks and islets, and openingto the western sea and the numerous islands of the "blakang-tuna. " I nowfound that the village we were going to was miles away; that we shouldhave to go out to sea, and round a rocky point. A squall seemed comingon, and as I have a horror of small boats at sea, and from all I couldlearn Watelai village was not a place to stop at (no birds of Paradisebeing found there), I determined to return and go to a village I hadheard of up a tributary of the Watelai river, and situated nearly in thecentre of the mainland of Aru. The people there were said to be good, and to be accustomed to hunting and bird-catching, being too far inlandto get any part of their food from the sea. While I was deciding thispoint the squall burst upon us, and soon raised a rolling sea in theshallow water, which upset an oil bottle and a lamp, broke some of mycrockery, and threw us all into confusion. Rowing hard we managed to getback into the main river by dusk, and looked out for a place to cookour suppers. It happened to be high water, and a very high tide, so thatevery piece of sand or beach was covered, and it was with the greatestdifficulty, and after much groping in the dark, that we discovered alittle sloping piece of rock about two feet square on which to make afire and cook some rice. The next day we continued our way back, andon the following day entered a stream on the south side of the Watelairiver, and ascending to where navigation ceased found the little villageof Wanumbai, consisting of two large houses surrounded by plantations, amid the virgin forests of Aru. As I liked the look of the place, and was desirous of staying some time, I sent my pilot to try and make a bargain for house accommodation. Theowner and chief man of the place made many excuses. First, he was afraidI would not like his house, and then was doubtful whether his son, who was away, would like his admitting me. I had a long talk with himmyself, and tried to explain what I was doing, and how many things Iwould buy of them, and showed him my stock of heads, and knives, andcloth, and tobacco, all of which I would spend with his family andfriends if he would give me house-room. He seemed a little staggered atthis, and said he, would talk to his wife, and in the meantime I wentfor a little walk to see the neighbourhood. When I came back, I againsent my pilot, saying that I would go away if he would not dive me partof his house. In about half an hour he returned with a demand for abouthalf the cost of building a house, for the rent of a small portion of itfor a few weeks. As the only difficulty now was a pecuniary one, I gotout about ten yards of cloth, an axe, with a few beads and some tobacco, and sent them as my final offer for the part of the house which I hadbefore pointed out. This was accepted after a little more talk, and Iimmediately proceeded to take possession. The house was a good large one, raised as usual about seven feet onposts, the walls about three or four feet more, with a high-pitchedroof. The floor was of bamboo laths, and in the sloping roof way animmense shutter, which could be lifted and propped up to admit lightand air. At the end where this was situated the floor was raised about afoot, and this piece, about ten feet wide by twenty long, quite open tothe rest of the house, was the portion I was to occupy. At one end ofthis piece, separated by a thatch partition, was a cooking place, witha clay floor and shelves for crockery. At the opposite end I had mymosquito curtain hung, and round the walls we arranged my boxes andother stores, fated up a table and seat, and with a little cleaning anddusting made the place look quite comfortable. My boat was then hauledup on shore, and covered with palm-leaves, the sails and oars broughtindoors, a hanging-stage for drying my specimens erected outside thehouse and another inside, and my boys were set to clean their gnus andget all ready for beginning work. The next day I occupied myself in exploring the paths in the immediateneighbourhood. The small river up which we had ascended ceases to benavigable at this point, above which it is a little rocky brook, whichquite dries up in the hot season. There was now, however, a fair streamof water in it; and a path which was partly in and partly by the side ofthe water, promised well for insects, as I here saw the magnificentblue butterfly, Papilio ulysses, as well as several other fine species, flopping lazily along, sometimes resting high up on the foliage whichdrooped over the water, at others settling down on the damp rock or onthe edges of muddy pools. A little way on several paths branched offthrough patches of second-growth forest to cane-fields, gardens, andscattered houses, beyond which again the dark wall of verdure stripedwith tree-trunks, marked out the limits of the primeval forests. Thevoices of many birds promised good shooting, and on my return I foundthat my boys had already obtained two or three kinds I had not seenbefore; and in the evening a native brought me a rare and beautifulspecies of ground-thrush (Pitta novaeguinaeae) hitherto only known fromNew Guinea. As I improved my acquaintance with them I became much interested inthese people, who are a fair sample of the true savage inhabitants ofthe Aru Islands, tolerably free from foreign admixture. The house Ilived in contained four or five families, and there were generallyfrom six to a dozen visitors besides. They kept up a continual rowfrom morning till night--talking, laughing, shouting, withoutintermission--not very pleasant, but interesting as a study of nationalcharacter. My boy Ali said to me, "Banyak quot bitchara Orang Aru" (TheAru people are very strong talkers), never having been accustomed tosuch eloquence either in his own or any other country he had hithertovisited. Of an evening the men, having got over their first shyness, began to talk to me a little, asking about my country, &c. , and inreturn I questioned them about any traditions they had of their ownorigin. I had, however, very little success, for I could not possiblymake them understand the simple question of where the Aru people firstcame from. I put it in every possible way to them, but it was a subjectquite beyond their speculations; they had evidently never thought ofanything of the kind, and were unable to conceive a thing so remote andso unnecessary to be thought about, as their own origin. Finding thishopeless, I asked if they knew when the trade with Aru first began, whenthe Bugis and Chinese and Macassar men first came in their praus to buytripang and tortoise-shell, and birds' nests, and Paradise birds? This they comprehended, but replied that there had always been the sametrade as long as they or their fathers recollected, but that this wasthe first time a real white man had come among them, and, said they, "You see how the people come every day from all the villages round tolook at you. " This was very flattering, and accounted for the greatconcourse of visitors which I had at first imagined was accidental. Afew years before I had been one of the gazers at the Zoolus, and theAztecs in London. Now the tables were turned upon me, for I was to thesepeople a new and strange variety of man, and had the honour of affordingto them, in my own person, an attractive exhibition, gratis. All the men and boys of Aru are expert archers, never stirring withouttheir bows and arrows. They shoot all sorts of birds, as well as pigsand kangaroos occasionally, and thus have a tolerably good supply ofmeat to eat with their vegetables. The result of this better living issuperior healthiness, well-made bodies, and generally clear skins. Theybrought me numbers of small birds in exchange for beads or tobacco, butmauled them terribly, notwithstanding my repeated instructions. Whenthey got a bird alive they would often tie a string to its leg, and keepit a day or two, till its plumage was so draggled and dirtied as to bealmost worthless. One of the first things I got from there was a livingspecimen of the curious and beautiful racquet-tailed kingfisher. Seeinghow much I admired it, they afterwards brought me several more, whichwore all caught before daybreak, sleeping in cavities of the rocky banksof the stream. My hunters also shot a few specimens, and almost allof them had the red bill more or less clogged with mud and earth. Thisindicates the habits of the bird, which, though popularly a king-fisher, never catches fish, but lives on insects and minute shells, which itpicks up in the forest, darting down upon them from its perch on somelow branch. The genus Tanysiptera, to which this bird belongs, isremarkable for the enormously lengthened tail, which in all otherkingfishers is small and short. Linnaeus named the species known tohim "the goddess kingfisher" (Alcedo dea), from its extreme grace andbeauty, the plumage being brilliant blue and white, with the bill red, like coral. Several species of these interesting birds are now known, all confined within the very limited area which comprises the Moluccas, New Guinea, and the extreme North of Australia. They resemble each otherso closely that several of them can only be distinguished by carefulcomparison. One of the rarest, however, which inhabits New Guinea, isvery distinct from the rest, being bright red beneath instead of white. That which I now obtained was a new one, and has been named Tanysipterahydrocharis, but in general form and coloration it is exactly similar tothe larger species found in Amboyna, and figured at page 468 of my firstvolume. New and interesting birds were continually brought in, either by my ownboys or by the natives, and at the end of a week Ali arrived triumphantone afternoon with a fine specimen of the Great Bird of Paradise. The ornamental plumes had not yet attained their full growth, but therichness of their glossy orange colouring, and the exquisite delicacyof the loosely waving feathers, were unsurpassable. At the same time agreat black cockatoo was brought in, as well as a fine fruit-pigeon andseveral small birds, so that we were all kept hard at work skinningtill sunset. Just as we had cleared away and packed up for the night, a strange beast was brought, which had been shot by the natives. Itresembled in size, and in its white woolly covering, a small fatlamb, but had short legs, hand-like feet with large claws, and a longprehensile tail. It was a Cuscus (C. Maculatus), one of the curiousmarsupial animals of the Papuan region, and I was very desirous toobtain the skin. The owners, however, said they wanted to eat it; andthough I offered them a good price, and promised to give them all themeat, there was grout hesitation. Suspecting the reason, I offered, though it was night, to set to work immediately and get out the body forthem, to which they agreed. The creature was much hacked about, and thetwo hind feet almost cut off; but it was the largest and finest specimenof the kind I had seen; and after an hour's hard work I handed over thebody to the owners, who immediately cut it up and roasted it for supper. As this was a very good place for birds, I determined to remain a monthlonger, and took the opportunity of a native boat going to Dobbo, tosend Ali for a fresh supply of ammunition and provisions. They startedon the 10th of April, and the house was crowded with about a hundredmen, boys, women, and girls, bringing their loads of sugar-cane, plantains, sirih-leaf, yams, &c. ; one lad going from each house to sellthe produce and make purchases. The noise was indescribable. At leastfifty of the hundred were always talking at once, and that not in thelow measured tones of the apathetically polite Malay, but with loudvoices, shouts, and screaming laughter, in which the women and childrenwere even more conspicuous than the men. It was only while gazing at methat their tongues were moderately quiet, because their eyes were fullyoccupied. The black vegetable soil here overlying the coral rock is veryrich, and the sugar-cane was finer than any I had ever seen. The canesbrought to the boat were often ten and even twelve feet long, and thickin proportion, with short joints throughout, swelling between the knotswith the abundance of the rich juice. At Dobbo they get a high pricefor it, 1d. To 3d. A stick, and there is an insatiable demand among thecrews of the praus and the Baba fishermen. Here they eat it continually. They half live on it, and sometimes feed their pigs with it. Near everyhouse are great heaps of the refuse cane; and large wicker-basketsto contain this refuse as it is produced form a regular part of thefurniture of a house. Whatever time of the day you enter, you are sureto find three or four people with a yard of cane in one hand, a knifein the other, and a basket between their legs, hacking, paring, chewing, and basket-filling, with a persevering assiduity which reminds one of ahungry cow grazing, or of a caterpillar eating up a leaf. After five days' absence the boats returned from Dobbo, bringing Ali andall the things I had sent for quite safe. A large party had assembled tobe ready to carry home the goods brought, among which were a good manycocoa-nut, which are a great luxury here. It seems strange that theyshould never plant them; but the reason simply is, that they cannotbring their hearts to bury a good nut for the prospective advantage ofa crop twelve years hence. There is also the chance of the fruits beingdug up and eaten unless watched night and day. Among the things I hadsent for was a box of arrack, and I was now of course besieged withrequests for a little drop. I gave them a flask (about two bottles), which was very soon finished, and I was assured that there were manypresent who had not had a taste. As I feared my box would very soon beemptied if I supplied all their demands, I told them I had given themone, but the second they must pay for, and that afterwards I must havea Paradise bird for each flask. They immediately sent round to all theneighbouring houses, and mustered up a rupee in Dutch copper money, gottheir second flask, and drunk it as quickly as the first, and were thenvery talkative, but less noisy and importunate than I had expected. Twoor three of them got round me and begged me for the twentieth time totell them the name of my country. Then, as they could not pronounce itsatisfactorily, they insisted that I was deceiving them, and that itwas a name of my own invention. One funny old man, who bore a ludicrousresemblance, to a friend of mine at home, was almost indignant. "Ung-lung! "said he, "who ever heard of such a name?--anglang--anger-lung--that can't be the name of your country; you areplaying with us. " Then he tried to give a convincing illustration. "Mycountry is Wanumbai--anybody can say Wanumbai. I'm an orang-Wanumbai;but, N-glung! who ever heard of such a name? Do tell us the real name ofyour country, and then when you are gone we shall know how to talk aboutyou. " To this luminous argument and remonstrance I could oppose nothingbut assertion, and the whole party remained firmly convinced that Iwas for some reason or other deceiving them. They then attacked me onanother point--what all the animals and birds and insects and shellswere preserved so carefully for. They had often asked me this before, and I had tried to explain to them that they would be stuffed, and madeto look as if alive, and people in my country would go to look at them. But this was not satisfying; in my country there must be many betterthings to look at, and they could not believe I would take so muchtrouble with their birds and beasts just for people to look at. They didnot want to look at them; and we, who made calico and glass and knives, and all sorts of wonderful things, could not want things from Aru tolook at. They had evidently been thinking about it, and had at lengthgot what seemed a very satisfactory theory; for the same old man said tome, in a low, mysterious voice, "What becomes of them when you go on tothe sea?" "Why, they are all packed up in boxes, " said I "What did youthink became of them?" "They all come to life again, don't they?" saidhe; and though I tried to joke it off, and said if they did we shouldhave plenty to eat at sea, he stuck to his opinion, and kept repeating, with an air of deep conviction, "Yes, they all come to life again, that's what they do--they all come to life again. " After a little while, and a good deal of talking among themselves, hebegan again--"I know all about it--oh yes! Before you came we had rainevery day--very wet indeed; now, ever since you have been here, it isfine hot weather. Oh, yes! I know all about it; you can't deceive me. "And so I was set down as a conjurer, and was unable to repel the charge. But the conjurer was completely puzzled by the next question: "What, "said the old man, "is the great ship, where the Bugis and Chinamen go tosell their things? It is always in the great sea--its name is Jong; tellus all about it. " In vain I inquired what they knew about it; they knewnothing but that it was called "Jong, " and was always in the sea, and was a very great ship, and concluded with, "Perhaps that is yourcountry?" Finding that I could not or would not tell them anything about"Jong, " there came more regrets that I would not tell them the real nameof my country; and then a long string of compliments, to the effect thatI was a much better sort of a person than the Bugis and Chinese, whosometimes came to trade with them, for I gave them things for nothing, and did not try to cheat them. How long would I stop? was the nextearnest inquiry. Would I stay two or three months? They would get meplenty of birds and animals, and I might soon finish all the goods I hadbrought, and then, said the old spokesman, "Don't go away, but send formore things from Dobbo, and stay here a year or two. " And then again theold story, "Do tell us the name of your country. We know the Bugis men, and the Macassar men, and the Java men, and the China men; only you, we don't know from what country you come. Ung-lung! it can't be; I knowthat is not the name of your country. " Seeing no end to this long talk, I said I was tired, and wanted to go to sleep; so after begging--one alittle bit of dry fish for his supper, and another a little salt to eatwith his sago--they went off very quietly, and I went outside and tooka stroll round the house by moonlight, thinking of the simple peopleand the strange productions of Aru, and then turned in under my mosquitocurtain; to sleep with a sense of perfect security in the midst of thesegood-natured savages. We now had seven or eight days of hot and dry weather, which reduced thelittle river to a succession of shallow pools connected by the smallestpossible thread of trickling water. If there were a dry season like thatof Macassar, the Aru Islands would be uninhabitable, as there is no partof them much above a hundred feet high; and the whole being a mass ofporous coralline rock, allows the surface water rapidly to escape. The only dry season they have is for a month or two about Septemberor October, and there is then an excessive scarcity of water, so thatsometimes hundreds of birds and other animals die of drought. Thenatives then remove to houses near the sources of the small streams, where, in the shady depths of the forest, a small quantity of waterstill remains. Even then many of them have to go miles for their water, which they keep in large bamboos and use very sparingly. They assureme that they catch and kill game of all kinds, by watching at the waterholes or setting snares around them. That would be the time for meto make my collections; but the want of water would be a terribleannoyance, and the impossibility of getting away before another wholeyear had passed made it out of the question. Ever since leaving Dobbo I had suffered terribly from insects, whoseemed here bent upon revenging my long-continued persecution of theirrace. At our first stopping-place sand-flies were very abundant atnight, penetrating to every part of the body, and producing a morelasting irritation than mosquitoes. My feet and ankles especiallysuffered, and were completely covered with little red swollen specks, which tormented me horribly. On arriving here we were delighted to findthe house free from sand-flies or mosquitoes, but in the plantationswhere my daily walks led me, the day-biting mosquitoes swarmed, andseemed especially to delight in attaching my poor feet. After a month'sincessant punishment, those useful members rebelled against suchtreatment and broke into open insurrection, throwing out numerousinflamed ulcers, which were very painful, and stopped me from walking. So I found myself confined to the house, and with no immediate prospectof leaving it. Wounds or sores in the feet are especially difficult toheal in hot climates, and I therefore dreaded them more than any otherillness. The confinement was very annoying, as the fine hot weather wasexcellent for insects, of which I had every promise of obtaining a finecollection; and it is only by daily and unremitting search that thesmaller kinds, and the rarer and more interesting specimens, can beobtained. When I crawled down to the river-side to bathe, I oftensaw the blue-winged Papilio ulysses, or some other equally rare andbeautiful insect; but there was nothing for it but patience, andto return quietly to my bird-skinning, or whatever other work I hadindoors. The stings and bites and ceaseless irritation caused by thesepests of the tropical forests, would be borne uncomplainingly; but to bekept prisoner by them in so rich and unexplored a country where rare andbeautiful creatures are to be met with in every forest ramble--a countryreached by such a long and tedious voyage, and which might not in thepresent century be again visited for the same purpose--is a punishmenttoo severe for a naturalist to pass over in silence. I had, however, some consolation in the birds my boys brought homedaily, more especially the Paradiseas, which they at length obtained infull plumage. It was quite a relief to my mind to get these, for I couldhardly have torn myself away from Aru had I not obtained specimens. But what I valued almost as much as the birds themselves was theknowledge of their habits, which I was daily obtaining both from theaccounts of my hunters, and from the conversation of the natives. Thebirds had now commenced what the people here call their "sacaleli, " ordancing-parties, in certain trees in the forest, which are not fruittrees as I at first imagined, but which have an immense tread ofspreading branches and large but scattered leaves, giving a clear spacefor the birds to play and exhibit their plumes. On one of these treesa dozen or twenty full-plumaged male birds assemble together, raiseup their wings, stretch out their necks, and elevate their exquisiteplumes, keeping them in a continual vibration. Between whiles they flyacross from branch to branch in great excitement, so that the whole treeis filled with waving plumes in every variety of attitude and motion. (See Frontispiece. ) The bird itself is nearly as large as a crow, andis of a rich coffee brown colour. The head and neck is of a pure strawyellow above and rich metallic green beneath. The long plumy tufts ofgolden orange feathers spring from the sides beneath each wing, and whenthe bird is in repose are partly concealed by them. At the time of itsexcitement, however, the wings are raised vertically over the back, thehead is bent down and stretched out, and the long plumes are raised upand expanded till they form two magnificent golden fans, striped withdeep red at the base, and fading off into the pale brown tint ofthe finely divided and softly waving points. The whole bird is thenovershadowed by them, the crouching body, yellow head, and emerald greenthroat forming but the foundation and setting to the golden glory whichwaves above. When seen in this attitude, the Bird of Paradise reallydeserves its name, and must be ranked as one of the most beautiful andmost wonderful of living things. I continued also to get specimensof the lovely little king-bird occasionally, as well as numbers ofbrilliant pigeons, sweet little parroquets, and many curious smallbirds, most nearly resembling those of Australia and New Guinea. Here, as among most savage people I have dwelt among, I was delightedwith the beauty of the human form-a beauty of which stay-at-homecivilized people can scarcely have any conception. What are the finestGrecian statues to the living, moving, breathing men I saw daily aroundme? The unrestrained grace of the naked savage as he goes abouthis daily occupations, or lounges at his ease, must be seen to beunderstood; and a youth bending his bow is the perfection of manlybeauty. The women, however, except in extreme youth, are by no means sopleasant to look at as the men. Their strongly-marked features are veryunfeminine, and hard work, privations, and very early marriages soondestroy whatever of beauty or grace they may for a short time possess. Their toilet is very simple, but also, I am sorry to say, very coarse, and disgusting. It consists solely of a mat of plaited strips of palmleaves, worn tight round the body, and reaching from the hips to theknees. It seems not to be changed till worn out, is seldom washed, andis generally very dirty. This is the universal dress, except in a fewcases where Malay "sarongs" have come into use. Their frizzly hair istied in a bench at the back of the head. They delight in combing, orrather forking it, using for that purpose a large wooden fork with fourdiverging prongs, which answers the purpose of separating and arrangingthe long tangled, frizzly mass of cranial vegetation much better thanany comb could do. The only ornaments of the women are earrings andnecklaces, which they arrange in various tasteful ways. The ends of anecklace are often attached to the earrings, and then looped on tothe hair-knot behind. This has really an elegant appearance, the beadshanging gracefully on each side of the head, and by establishing aconnexion with the earrings give an appearance of utility to thosebarbarous ornaments. We recommend this style to the consideration ofthose of the fair sex who still bore holes in their ears and hang ringsthereto. Another style of necklace among these Papuan belles is to weartwo, each hanging on one side of the neck and under the opposite arm, soas to cross each other. This has a very pretty appearance, in part dueto the contrast of the white beads or kangaroo teeth of which they arecomposed with the dark glossy skin. The earrings themselves are formedof a bar of copper or silver, twisted so that the ends cross. The men, as usual among savages, adorn themselves more than the women. They wearnecklaces, earrings, and finger rings, and delight in a band of plaitedgrass tight round the arm just below the shoulder, to which they attacha bunch of hair or bright coloured feathers by way of ornament. Theteeth of small animals, either alone, or alternately with black or whitebeads, form their necklaces, and sometimes bracelets also. Forthese latter, however, they prefer brass wire, or the black, horny, wing-spines of the cassowary, which they consider a charm. Anklets ofbrass or shell, and tight plaited garters below the knee, complete theirordinary decorations. Some natives of Kobror from further south, and who are reckoned theworst and least civilized of the Aru tribes, came one day to visit us. They have a rather more than usually savage appearance, owing to thegreater amount of ornaments they use--the most conspicuous being alarge horseshoe-shaped comb which they wear over the forehead, the endsresting on the temples. The back of the comb is fastened into a piece ofwood, which is plated with tin in front, and above is attached a plumeof feathers from a cock's tail. In other respects they scarcely differedfrom the people I was living with. They brought me a couple of birds, some shells and insects; showing that the report of the white man andhis doing had reached their country. There was probably hardly a man inAru who had not by this time heard of me. Besides the domestic utensils already mentioned, the moveable propertyof a native is very scanty. He has a good supply of spears and bowsand arrows for hunting, a parang, or chopping-knife, and an axe-for thestone age has passed away here, owing to the commercial enterprise ofthe Bugis and other Malay races. Attached to a belt, or hung acrosshis shoulder, he carries a little skin pouch and an ornamentedbamboo, containing betel-nut, tobacco, and lime, and a small Germanwooden-handled knife is generally stuck between his waist-cloth of barkand his bare shin. Each man also possesses a "cadjan, " or sleeping-mat, made of the broad leaves of a pandanus neatly sewn together in threelayers. This mat is abort four feet square, and when folded has one endsewn up, so that it forms a kind of sack open at one side. In the closedcorner the head or feet can be placed, or by carrying it on the headin a shower it forms both coat and umbrella. It doubles up ix a smallcompass for convenient carriage, and then forms a light and elasticcushion, so that on a journey it becomes clothing, house, bedding, andfurniture, all in one. The only ornaments in an Aru horse are trophies of the chase--jaws ofwild pigs, the heads and backbones of cassowaries, and plumes made fromthe feathers of the Bird of Paradise, cassowary, and domestic fowl. The spears, shields, knife-handles, and other utensils are more or lesscarved in fanciful designs, and the mats and leaf boxes are painted orplaited in neat patterns of red, black, and yellow colours. I must notforget these boxes, which are most ingeniously made of the pith ofa balm leaf pegged together, lined inside with pandanus leaves, andoutside with the same, or with plaited grass. All the joints and anglesare coffered with strips of split rattan sewn neatly on. The lid iscovered with the brown leathery spathe of the Areca palm, which isimpervious to water, and the whole box is neat, strong, and wellfinished. They are made from a few inches to two or three feet long, andbeing much esteemed by the Malay as clothes-boxes, are a regular articleof export from Aru. The natives use the smaller ones for tobacco orbetel-nut, but seldom have clothes enough to require the larger ones, which are only made for sale. Among the domestic animals which may generally be seen in native houses, are gaudy parrots, green, red, and blue, a few domestic fowls, whichhave baskets hung for them to lay in under the eaves, and who sleep onthe ridge, and several half-starved wolfish-baking dogs. Instead of ratsand mice there are curious little marsupial animals about the same size, which run about at night and nibble anything eatable that may be leftuncovered. Four or five different kinds of ants attack everything notisolated by water, and one kind even swims across that; great spiderslurk in baskets and boxes, or hide in the folds of my mosquito curtain;centipedes and millepedes are found everywhere. I have caught them undermy pillow and on my bead; while in every box, and under every hoardwhich has lain for some days undisturbed, little scorpions are sure tobe found snugly ensconced, with their formidable tails quickly turnedup ready for attack or defence. Such companions seem very alarmingand dangerous, but all combined are not so bad as the irritation ofmosquitoes, or of the insect pests often found at home. These latter area constant and unceasing source of torment and disgust, whereas youmay live a long time among scorpions, spiders, and centipedes, ugly andvenomous though they are, and get no harm from them. After living twelveyears in the tropics, I have never yet been bitten or stung by either. The lean and hungry dogs before mentioned were my greatest enemies, and kept me constantly on the watch. If my boys left the bird theywere skinning for an instant, it was sure to be carried off. Everythingeatable had to be hung up to the roof, to be out of their reach. Alihad just finished skinning a fine King Bird of Paradise one day, whenhe dropped the skin. Before he could stoop to pick it up, one of thisfamished race had seized upon it, and he only succeeded in rescuingit from its fangs after it was torn to tatters. Two skins of thelarge Paradisea, which were quite dry and ready to pack away, wereincautiously left on my table for the night, wrapped up in paper. Thenext morning they were gone, and only a few scattered feathers indicatedtheir fate. My hanging shelf was out of their reach; but having stupidlyleft a box which served as a step, a full-plumaged Paradise bird wasnext morning missing; and a dog below the house was to be seen stillmumbling over the fragments, with the fine golden plumes all trampledin the mud. Every night, as soon as I was in bed, I could hear themsearching about for what they could devour, under my table, and allabout my boxes and baskets, keeping me in a state of suspense tillmorning, lest something of value might incautiously have been leftwithin their read. They would drink the oil of my floating lamp and eatthe wick, and upset or break my crockery if my lazy boys had neglectedto wash away even the smell of anything eatable. Bad, however, as theyare here, they were worse in a Dyak's house in Borneo where I was oncestaying, for there they gnawed off the tops of my waterproof boots, ate a large piece out of an old leather game-bag, besides devouring aportion of my mosquito curtain! April 28th. --Last evening we had a grand consultation, which hadevidently been arranged and discussed beforehand. A number of thenatives gathered round me, and said they wanted to talk. Two of the bestMalay scholars helped each other, the rest putting in hints and ideasin their own language. They told me a long rambling story; but, partlyowing to their imperfect knowledge of Malay, partly through my ignoranceof local terms, and partly through the incoherence of their narrative, Icould not make it out very clearly. It was, however, a tradition, andI was glad to find they had anything of the kind. A long time ago, theysaid, some strangers came to Aru, and came here to Wanumbai, and thechief of the Wanumbai people did not like them, and wanted them to goaway, but they would not go, and so it came to fighting, and many Arumen were killed, and some, along with the chief, were taken prisoners, and carried away by the strangers. Some of the speakers, however, saidthat he was not carried away, but went away in his own boat to escapefrom the foreigners, and went to the sea and never came back again. Butthey all believe that the chief and the people that went with him stilllive in some foreign country; and if they could but find out where, theywould send for them to come back again. Now having some vague idea thatwhite men must know every country beyond the sea, they wanted to knowif I had met their people in my country or in the sea. They thought theymust be there, for they could not imagine where else they could be. Theyhad sought for them everywhere, they said--on the land and in the sea, in the forest and on the mountains, in the air and in the sky, and couldnot find them; therefore, they must be in my country, and they beggedme to tell them, for I must surely know, as I came from across thegreat sea. I tried to explain to them that their friends could not havereached my country in small boats; and that there were plenty of islandslike Aru all about the sea, which they would be sure to find. Besides, as it was so long ago, the chief and all the people must be dead. Butthey quite laughed at this idea, and said they were sure they werealive, for they had proof of it. And then they told me that a good manyyears ago, when the speakers were boys, some Wokan men who were outfishing met these lost people in the sea, and spoke to them; and thechief gave the Wokan men a hundred fathoms of cloth to bring to the menof Wanumbai, to show that they were alive and would soon come back tothem, but the Wokan men were thieves, and kept the cloth, and they onlyheard of it afterwards; and when they spoke about it, the Wokan mendenied it, and pretended they had not received the cloth;--so they werequite sure their friends were at that time alive and somewhere in thesea. And again, not many years ago, a report came to them that someBugis traders had brought some children of their lost people; so theywent to Dobbo to see about it, and the owner of the house, who was nowspeaking to me, was one who went; but the Bugis man would not let themsee the children, and threatened to kill them if they came into hishouse. He kept the children shut up in a large box, and when he wentaway he took them with him. And at the end of each of these stories, they begged me in an imploring tone to tell them if I knew where theirchief and their people now were. By dint of questioning, I got some account of the strangers who hadtaken away their people. They said they were wonderfully strong, andeach one could kill a great many Aru men; and when they were wounded, however badly, they spit upon the place, and it immediately became well. And they made a great net of rattans, and entangled their prisoners init, and sunk them in the water; and the next day, when they pulledthe net up on shore, they made the drowned men come to life again, andcarried them away. Much more of the same kind was told me, but in so confused and ramblinga manner that I could make nothing out of it, till I inquired how longago it was that all this happened, when they told me that after theirpeople were taken away the Bugis came in their praus to trade in Aru, and to buy tripang and birds' nests. It is not impossible that somethingsimilar to what they related to me really happened when the earlyPortuguese discoverers first came to Aru, and has formed the foundationfor a continually increasing accumulation of legend and fable. I haveno doubt that to the next generation, or even before, I myself shall betransformed into a magician or a demigod, a worker of miracles, anda being of supernatural knowledge. They already believe that all theanimals I preserve will come to life again; and to their children itwill be related that they actually did so. An unusual spell of fineweather setting in just at my arrival has made them believe I cancontrol the seasons; and the simple circumstance of my always walkingalone in the forest is a wonder and a mystery to them, as well as myasking them about birds and animals I have not yet seen, and showingan acquaintance with their form, colours, and habits. These facts arebrought against me when I disclaim knowledge of what they wish me totell them. "You must know, " say they; "you know everything: you make thefine weather for your men to shoot, and you know all about our birds andour animals as well as we do; and you go alone into the forest andare not afraid. " Therefore every confession of ignorance on my part isthought to be a blind, a mere excuse to avoid telling them too much. Myvery writing materials and books are to them weird things; and were I tochoose to mystify them by a few simple experiments with lens and magnet, miracles without end would in a few years cluster about me; and futuretravellers, penetrating to Wanumbai, world h hardly believe that a poorEnglish naturalist, who had resided a few months among them, could havebeen the original of the supernatural being to whom so many marvels wereattributed. Far some days I had noticed a good deal of excitement, and manystrangers came and went armed with spears and cutlasses, bows andshields. I now found there was war near us--two neighbouring villageshaving a quarrel about some matter of local politics that I could notunderstand. They told me it was quite a common thing, and that they arerarely without fighting somewhere near. Individual quarrels are taken upby villages and tribes, and the nonpayment of the stipulated price for awife is one of the most frequent causes of bitterness and bloodshed. Oneof the war shields was brought me to look at. It was made of rattansand covered with cotton twist, so as to be both light, strong, and verytough. I should think it would resist any ordinary bullet. Abort themiddle there was au arm-hole with a shutter or flap over it. Thisenables the arm to be put through and the bow drawn, while the bodyand face, up to the eyes, remain protected, which cannot be done ifthe shield is carried on the arm by loops attached at the back in theordinary way. A few of the young men from our house went to help theirfriends, but I could not bear that any of them were hurt, or that therewas much hard fighting. May 8th. -I had now been six weeks at Wanumbai, but for more than halfthe time was laid up in the house with ulcerated feet. My stores beingnearly exhausted, and my bird and insect boxes full, and having noimmediate prospect of getting the use of my legs again, I determinedon returning to Dobbo. Birds had lately become rather scarce, and theParadise birds had not yet become as plentiful as the natives assured methey would be in another month. The Wanumbai people seemed very sorryat my departure; and well they might be, for the shells and insects theypicked up on the way to and from their plantations, and the birds thelittle boys shot with their bows and arrows, kept them all well suppliedwith tobacco and gambir, besides enabling them to accumulate a stockof beads and coppers for future expenses. The owner of the house wassupplied gratis with a little rice, fish, or salt, whenever he asked forit, which I must say was not very often. On parting, I distributed amongthem my remnant stock of salt and tobacco, and gave my host a flaskof arrack, and believe that on the whole my stay with these simpleand good-natured people was productive of pleasure and profit toboth parties. I fully intended to come back; and had I known thatcircumstances would have prevented my doing so, shoed have felt somesorrow in leaving a place where I had first seen so many rare andbeautiful living things, and bad so fully enjoyed the pleasure whichfills the heart of the naturalist when he is so fortunate as to discovera district hitherto unexplored, and where every day brings forth new andunexpected treasures. We loaded our boat in the afternoon, and, startingbefore daybreak, by the help of a fair wind reached Dobbo late the sameevening. CHAPTER XXXII. THE ARU ISLANDS. --SECOND RESIDENCE AT DOBBO. (MAY AND JUNE 1857. ) DOBBO was full to overflowing, and I was obliged to occupy thecourt-house where the Commissioners hold their sittings. They had nowleft the island, and I found the situation agreeable, as it was at theend of the village, with a view down the principal street. It was a mereshed, but half of it had a roughly boarded floor, and by putting up apartition and opening a window I made it a very pleasant abode. In oneof the boxes I had left in charge of Herr Warzbergen, a colony of smallants had settled and deposited millions of eggs. It was luckily a finehot day, and by carrying the box some distance from the house, andplacing every article in the sunshine for an hour or two, I got rid ofthem without damage, as they were fortunately a harmless species. Dobbo now presented an animated appearance. Five or six new houseshad been added to the street; the praus were all brought round to thewestern side of the point, where they were hauled up on the beach, andwere being caulked and covered with a thick white lime-plaster for thehomeward voyage, making them the brightest and cleanest lookingthings in the place. Most of the small boats had returned from the"blakang-tana" (back country), as the side of the islands towards NewGuinea is called. Piles of firewood were being heaped up behind thehouses; sail-makers and carpenters were busy at work; mother-of-pearlshell was being tied up in bundles, and the black and ugly smokedtripang was having a last exposure to the sun before loading. The spareportion of the crews were employed cutting and squaring timber, andboats from Ceram and Goram were constantly unloading their cargoes ofsago-cake for the traders' homeward voyage. The fowls, ducks, and goatsall looked fat and thriving on the refuse food of a dense population, and the Chinamen's pigs were in a state of obesity that foreboded earlydeath. Parrots and Tories and cockatoos, of a dozen different binds, were suspended on bamboo perches at the doors of the houses, withmetallic green or white fruit-pigeons which cooed musically at noon andeventide. Young cassowaries, strangely striped with black and brown, wandered about the houses or gambolled with the playfulness of kittensin the hot sunshine, with sometimes a pretty little kangaroo, caught inthe Aru forests, but already tame and graceful as a petted fawn. Of an evening there were more signs of life than at the time of myformer residence. Tom-toms, jews'-harps, and even fiddles were to beheard, and the melancholy Malay songs sounded not unpleasantly far intothe night. Almost every day there was a cock-fight in the street. Thespectators make a ring, and after the long steel spurs are tied on, and the poor animals are set down to gash and kill each other, theexcitement is immense. Those who lave made bets scream and yell and jumpfrantically, if they think they are going to win or lose, but in a veryfew minutes it is all over; there is a hurrah from the winners, theowners seize their cocks, the winning bird is caressed and admired, theloser is generally dead or very badly wounded, and his master may oftenbe seen plucking out his feathers as he walks away, preparing him forthe cooking pot while the poor bird is still alive. A game at foot-ball, which generally took place at sunset, was, however, much more interesting to me. The ball used is a rather small one, and ismade of rattan, hollow, light, and elastic. The player keeps it dancinga little while on his foot, then occasionally on his arm or thigh, tillsuddenly he gives it a good blow with the hollow of the foot, and sendsit flying high in the air. Another player runs to meet it, and at itsfirst bound catches it on his foot and plays in his turn. The ball mustnever be touched with the hand; but the arm, shoulder, knee, orthigh are used at pleasure to rest the foot. Two or three played veryskilfully, keeping the ball continually flying about, but the place wastoo confined to show off the game to advantage. One evening a quarrelarose from some dispute in the game, and there was a great row, andit was feared there would be a fight about it--not two men only, but aparty of a dozen or twenty on each side, a regular battle with knivesand krisses; but after a large amount of talk it passed off quietly, andwe heard nothing about it afterwards. Most Europeans being gifted by nature with a luxuriant growth of hairupon their faces, think it disfigures them, and keep up a continualstruggle against her by mowing down every morning the crop which hassprouted up flaring the preceding twenty-four hours. Now the men ofMongolian race are, naturally, just as many of us want to he. Theymostly pass their lives with faces as smooth and beardless as aninfant's. But shaving seems an instinct of the human race; for many ofthese people, having no hair to take off their faces, shave their heads. Others, however, set resolutely to work to force nature to give them abeard. One of the chief cock-fighters at Dobbo was a Javanese, a sort ofmaster of the ceremonies of the ring, who tied on the spars and acted asbacker-up to one of the combatants. This man had succeeded, by assiduouscultivation, in raising a pair of moustaches which were a triumph ofart, for they each contained about a dozen hairs more than three incheslong, and which, being well greased and twisted, were distinctly visible(when not too far off) as a black thread hanging down on each side ofhis mouth. But the beard to match was the difficulty, for nature hadcruelly refused to give him a rudiment of hair on his chin, and the mosttalented gardener could not do much if he had nothing to cultivate. But true genius triumphs over difficulties. Although there was no hairproper on the chin; there happened to be, rather on one side of it, asmall mole or freckle which contained (as such things frequently do) afew stray hairs. These had been made the most of. They had reached fouror five inches in length, and formed another black thread danglingfrom the left angle of the chin. The owner carried this as if itwere something remarkable (as it certainly was); he often felt itaffectionately, passed it between his fingers, and was evidentlyextremely proud of his moustaches and beard! One of the most surprising things connected with Aru was the excessivecheapness of all articles of European or native manufacture. Wewere here two thousand miles beyond Singapore and Batavia, which arethemselves emporiums of the "far east, " in a place unvisited by, andalmost unknown to, European traders; everything reached us through atleast two or three hands, often many more; yet English calicoes andAmerican cotton cloths could be bought for 8s. The piece, muskets for15s. , common scissors and German knives at three-halfpence each, andother cutlery, cotton goods, and earthenware in the same proportion. The natives of this out-of-the-way country can, in fact, buy all thesethings at about the same money price as our workmen at home, but inreality very much cheaper, for the produce of a few hours' labourenables the savage to purchase in abundance what are to him luxuries, while to the European they are necessaries of life. The barbarian is nohappier and no better off for this cheapness. On the contrary, it hasa most injurious effect on him. He wants the stimulus of necessity toforce him to labour; and if iron were as dear as silver, and calico ascostly as satin, the effect would be beneficial to him. As it is, hehas more idle hours, gets a more constant supply of tobacco, and canintoxicate himself with arrack more frequently and more thoroughly; foryour Aru man scorns to get half drunk-a tumbler full of arrack is but aslight stimulus, and nothing less than half a gallon of spirit will makehim tipsy to his own satisfaction. It is not agreeable to reflect on this state of things. At least halfof the vast multitudes of uncivilized peoples, on whom our giganticmanufacturing system, enormous capital, and intense competition forcethe produce of our looms and workshops, would be not a whit worse offphysically, and would certainly be improved morally, if all the articleswith which w e supply them were double or treble their present prices. If at the same time the difference of cost, or a large portion ofit, could find its way into the pockets of the manufacturing workmen, thousands would be raised from want to comfort, from starvation tohealth, and would be removed from one of the chief incentives to crime. It is difficult for an Englishman to avoid contemplating with pride ourgigantic and ever-increasing manufactures and commerce, and thinkingeverything good that renders their progress still more rapid, eitherby lowering the price at which the articles can be produced, or bydiscovering new markets to which they may be sent. If, however, thequestion that is so frequently asked of the votaries of the less popularsciences were put here--"Cui bono?"--it would be found more difficult toanswer than had been imagined. The advantages, even to the few who reapthem, would be seen to be mostly physical, while the wide-spread moraland intellectual evils resulting from unceasing labour, low wages, crowded dwellings, and monotonous occupations, to perhaps as large anumber as those who gain any real advantage, might be held to showa balance of evil so great, as to lead the greatest admirers of ourmanufactures and commerce to doubt the advisability of their furtherdevelopment. It will be said: "We cannot stop it; capital must beemployed; our population must be kept at work; if we hesitate a moment, other nations now hard pressing us will get ahead, and national ruinwill follow. " Some of this is true, some fallacious. It is undoubtedly adifficult problem which we have to solve; and I am inclined to think itis this difficulty that makes men conclude that what seems a necessaryand unalterable state of things must be good-that its benefits must begreater than its evils. This was the feeling of the American advocatesof slavery; they could not see an easy, comfortable way out of it. Inour own case, however, it is to be hoped, that if a fair considerationof the matter in all its hearings shows that a preponderance of evilarises from the immensity of our manufactures and commerce-evil whichmust go on increasing with their increase-there is enough both ofpolitical wisdom and true philanthropy in Englishmen, to induce them toturn their superabundant wealth into other channels. The fact that hasled to these remarks is surely a striking one: that in one of the mostremote corners of the earth savages can buy clothing cheaper than thepeople of the country where it is made; that the weaver's child shouldshiver in the wintry wind, unable to purchase articles attainable by thewild natives of a tropical climate, where clothing is mere ornament orluxury, should make us pause ere we regard with unmixed admiration thesystem which has led to such a result, and cause us to look with somesuspicion on the further extension of that system. It must be rememberedtoo that our commerce is not a purely natural growth. It has been everfostered by the legislature, and forced to an unnatural luxuriance bythe protection of our fleets and armies. The wisdom and the justice ofthis policy have been already doubted. So soon, therefore, as it is seenthat the further extension of our manufactures and commerce would be anevil, the remedy is not far to seek. After six weeks' confinement to the house I was at length well, andcould resume my daily walks in the forest. I did not, however, find itso productive as when I had first arrived at Dobbo. There was a dampstagnation about the paths, and insects were very scarce. In some of mybest collecting places I now found a mass of rotting wood, mingled withyoung shoots, and overgrown with climbers, yet I always managed toadd something daily to my extensive collections. I one day met witha curious example of failure of instinct, which, by showing it to befallible, renders it very doubtful whether it is anything more thanhereditary habit, dependent on delicate modifications of sensation. Somesailors cut down a good-sized tree, and, as is always my practice, Ivisited it daily for some time in search of insects. Among otherbeetles came swarms of the little cylindrical woodborers (Platypus, Tesserocerus, &c. ), and commenced making holes in the bark. After a dayor two I was surprised to find hundreds of them sticking in the holesthey had bored, and on examination discovered that the milky sap of thetree was of the nature of gutta-percha, hardening rapidly on exposure tothe air, and glueing the little animals in self-dug graves. The habitof boring holes in trees in which to deposit their eggs, was notaccompanied by a sufficient instinctive knowledge of which trees weresuitable, and which destructive to them. If, as is very probable, thesetrees have an attractive odour to certain species of borers, it mightvery likely lead to their becoming extinct; while other species, to whomthe same odour was disagreeable, and who therefore avoided the dangeroustrees, would survive, and would be credited by us with an instinct, whereas they would really be guided by a simple sensation. Those curious little beetles, the Brenthidae, were very abundant in Aru. The females have a pointed rostrum, with which they bore deep holes inthe bark of dead trees, often burying the rostrum up to the eyes, andin these holes deposit their eggs. The males are larger, and have therostrum dilated at the end, and sometimes terminating in a good-sizedpair of jaws. I once saw two males fighting together; each had afore-leg laid across the neck of the other, and the rostrum bent quitein an attitude of defiance, and looking most ridiculous. Another time, two were fighting for a female, who stood close by busy at her boring. They pushed at each other with their rostra, and clawed and thumped, apparently in the greatest rage, although their coats of mail musthave saved both from injury. The small one, however, soon ran away, acknowledging himself vanquished. In most Coleoptera the female islarger than the male, and it is therefore interesting, as bearing on thequestion of sexual selection, that in this case, as in the stag-beetleswhere the males fight together, they should be not only better armed, but also much larger than the females. Just as we were going away, ahandsome tree, allied to Erythrina, was in blossom, showing its massesof large crimson flowers scattered here and there about the forest. Could it have been seen from an elevation, it would have had a fineeffect; from below I could only catch sight of masses of gorgeous colourin clusters and festoons overhead, about which flocks of blue and orangelories were fluttering and screaming. A good many people died at Dobbo this season; I believe about twenty. They were buried in a little grove of Casuarinas behind my house. Amongthe traders was a. Mahometan priest, who superintended the funerals, which were very simple. The body was wrapped up in new white cottoncloth, and was carried on a bier to the grave. All the spectators satdown on the ground, and the priest chanted some verses from the Koran. The graves were fenced round with a slight bamboo railing, and a littlecarved wooden head-post was put to mark the spot. There was also in thevillage a small mosque, where every Friday the faithful went to pray. This is probably more remote from Mecca than any other mosque inthe world, and marks the farthest eastern extension of the Mahometanreligion. The Chinese here, as elsewhere, showed their superior wealthand civilization by tombstones of solid granite brought from Singapore, with deeply-cut inscriptions, the characters of which are painted inred, blue, and gold. No people have more respect for the graves oftheir relations and friends than this strange, ubiquitous, money-gettingpeople. Soon after we had returned to Dobbo, my Macassar boy, Baderoon, took hiswages and left me, because I scolded him for laziness. He then occupiedhimself in gambling, and at first had some luck, and bought ornaments, and had plenty of money. Then his luck turned; he lost everything, borrowed money and lost that, and was obliged to become the slave of hiscreditor till he had worked out the debt. He was a quick and active ladwhen he pleased, but was apt to be idle, and had such an incorrigiblepropensity for gambling, that it will very likely lead to his becoming aslave for life. The end of June was now approaching, the east monsoon had setin steadily, and in another week or two Dobbo would be deserted. Preparations for departure were everywhere visible, and every sunny day(rather rare now) the streets were as crowded and as busy asbeehives. Heaps of tripang were finally dried and packed up in sacks;mother-of-pearl shell, tied up with rattans into convenient bundles, wasall day long being carried to the beach to be loaded; water-casks werefilled, and cloths and mat-sails mended and strengthened for the runhome before the strong east wind. Almost every day groups of nativesarrived from the most distant parts of the islands, with cargoes ofbananas and sugar-cane to exchange for tobacco, sago, bread, and otherluxuries, before the general departure. The Chinamen killed their fatpig and made their parting feast, and kindly sent me some pork, and abasin of birds' nest stew, which had very little more taste than a dishof vermicelli. My boy Ali returned from Wanumbai, where I had sent himalone for a fortnight to buy Paradise birds and prepare the skins; hebrought me sixteen glorious specimens, and had he not been very ill withfever and ague might have obtained twice the number. He had livedwith the people whose house I had occupied, and it is a proof of theirgoodness, if fairly treated, that although he took with him a quantityof silver dollars to pay for the birds they caught, no attempt was madeto rob him, which might have been done with the most perfect impunity. He was kindly treated when ill, and was brought back to me with thebalance of the dollars he had not spent. The Wanumbai people, like almost all the inhabitants of the Aru Islands, are perfect savages, and I saw no signs of any religion. There are, however, three or four villages on the coast where schoolmasters fromAmboyna reside, and the people are nominally Christians, and are to someextent educated and civilized. I could not get much real knowledge ofthe customs of the Aru people during the short time I was among them, but they have evidently been considerably influenced by their longassociation with Mahometan traders. They often bury their dead, althoughthe national custom is to expose the body an a raised stage till itdecomposes. Though there is no limit to the number of wives a man mayhave, they seldom exceed one or two. A wife is regularly purchased fromthe parents, the price being a large assortment of articles, alwaysincluding gongs, crockery, and cloth. They told me that some of thetribes kill the old men and women when they can no longer work, but Isaw many very old and decrepid people, who seemed pretty well attendedto. No doubt all who have much intercourse with the Bugis and Ceramesetraders gradually lose many of their native customs, especially as thesepeople often settle in their villages and marry native women. The trade carried on at Dobbo is very considerable. This year there werefifteen large praus from Macassar, and perhaps a hundred small boatsfrom Ceram, Goram, and Ke. The Macassar cargoes are worth about Ł1, 000. Each, and the other boats take away perhaps about Ł3, 000, worth, so thatthe whole exports may be estimated at Ł18, 000. Per annum. The largestand most bulky items are pearl-shell and tripang, or "beche-de-mer, "with smaller quantities of tortoise-shell, edible birds' nests, pearls, ornamental woods, timber, and Birds of Paradise. These are purchasedwith a variety of goods. Of arrack, about equal in strength to ordinaryWest India rum, 3, 000 boxes, each containing fifteen half-gallonbottles, are consumed annually. Native cloth from Celebes is muchesteemed for its durability, and large quantities are sold, as well aswhite English calico and American unbleached cottons, common crockery, coarse cutlery, muskets, gunpowder, gongs, small brass cannon, andelephants' tusks. These three last articles constitute the wealth of theAru people, with which they pay for their wives, or which they hoardup as "real property. " Tobacco is in immense demand for chewing, andit must be very strong, or an Aru man will not look at it. Knowinghow little these people generally work, the mass of produce obtainedannually shows that the islands must be pretty thickly inhabited, especially along the coasts, as nine-tenths of the whole are marineproductions. It was on the 2d of July that we left Aru, followed by all the Macassarpraus, fifteen in number, who had agreed to sail in company. We passedsouth of Banda, and then steered due west, not seeing land for threedays, till we sighted some low islands west of Bouton. We had a strongand steady south-east wind day and night, which carried us on at aboutfive knots an hour, where a clipper ship would have made twelve. The skywas continually cloudy, dark, and threatening, with occasional drizzlingshowers, till we were west of Bouru, when it cleared up and we enjoyedthe bright sunny skies of the dry season for the rest of our voyage. It is about here, therefore that the seasons of the eastern and westernregions of the Archipelago are divided. West of this line from June toDecember is generally fine, and often very dry, the rest of the yearbeing the wet season. East of it the weather is exceedingly uncertain, each island, and each side of an island, having its own peculiarities. The difference seems to consist not so much in the distribution of therainfall as in that of the clouds and the moistness of the atmosphere. In Aru, for example, when we left, the little streams were all dried up, although the weather was gloomy; while in January, February, and March, when we had the hottest sunshine and the finest days, they were alwaysflowing. The driest time of all the year in Aru occurs in September andOctober, just as it does in Java and Celebes. The rainy seasons agree, therefore, with those of the western islands, although the weather isvery different. The Molucca sea is of a very deep blue colour, quitedistinct from the clear light blue of the Atlantic. In cloudy and dullweather it looks absolutely black, and when crested with foam has astern and angry aspect. The wind continued fair and strong during ourwhole voyage, and we reached Macassar in perfect safety on the eveningof the 11th of July, having made the passage from Aru (more than athousand miles) in nine and a half days. My expedition to the Aru Islands had been eminently successful. AlthoughI had been for months confined to the house by illness, and had lostmuch time by the want of the means of locomotion, and by missing theright season at the right place, I brought away with me more than ninethousand specimens of natural objects, of about sixteen hundred distinctspecies. I had made the acquaintance of a strange and little-known raceof men; I had become familiar with the traders of the far East; I hadrevelled in the delights of exploring a new fauna and flora, one of themost remarkable and most beautiful and least-known in the world; andI had succeeded in the main object for which I had undertaken thejourney-namely, to obtain fine specimens of the magnificent Birds ofParadise, and to be enabled to observe them in their native forests. Bythis success I was stimulated to continue my researches in the Moluccasand New Guinea for nearly five years longer, and it is still the portionof my travels to which I look back with the most complete satisfaction. CHAPTER XXXIII. THE ARU ISLANDS--PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY AND ASPECTS OFNATURE. IN this chapter I propose to give a general sketch of the physicalgeography of the Aru Islands, and of their relation to the surroundingcountries; and shall thus be able to incorporate the informationobtained from traders, and from the works of other naturalists withmy own observations in these exceedingly interesting and little-knownregions. The Aru group may be said to consist of one very large central islandwith a number of small ones scattered round it. The great island iscalled by the natives and traders "Tang-busar" (great or mainland), todistinguish it as a whole from Dobbo, or any of the detached islands. Itis of an irregular oblong form, about eighty miles from north to south, and forty or fifty from east to west, in which direction it is traversedby three narrow channels, dividing it into four portions. These channelsare always called rivers by the traders, which puzzled me much till Ipassed through one of them, and saw how exceedingly applicable thename was. The northern channel, called the river of Watelai, is abouta quarter of a mile wide at its entrance, but soon narrows to abort theeighth of a mile, which width it retains, with little variation, duringits whole, length of nearly fifty miles, till it again widens at itseastern mouth. Its course is moderately winding, and the hanks aregenerally dry and somewhat elevated. In many places there are low cliffsof hard coralline limestone, more or less worn by the action of water;while sometimes level spaces extend from the banks to low ranges ofhills a little inland. A few small streams enter it from right and left, at the mouths of which are some little rocky islands. The depth isvery regular, being from ten to fifteen fathoms, and it has thus everyfeature of a true river, but for the salt water and the absence of acurrent. The other two rivers, whose names are Vorkai and Maykor, aresaid to be very similar in general character; but they are rather neartogether, and have a number of cross channels intersecting the flattract between them. On the south side of Maykor the banks arevery rocky, and from thence to the southern extremity of Aru isan uninterrupted extent of rather elevated and very rocky country, penetrated by numerous small streams, in the high limestone cliffsbordering which the edible birds' nests of Aru are chiefly obtained. All my informants stated that the two southern rivers are larger thanWatelai. The whole of Aru is low, but by no means so flat as it has beenrepresented, or as it appears from the sea. Most of it is dry rockyground, with a somewhat undulating surface, rising here and thereinto abrupt hillocks, or cut into steep and narrow ravines. Except thepatches of swamp which are found at the mouths of most of the smallrivers, there is no absolutely level ground, although the greatestelevation is probably not more than two hundred feet. The rock whicheverywhere appears in the ravines and brooks is a coralline limestone, in some places soft and pliable, in others so hard and crystalline as toresemble our mountain limestone. The small islands which surround the central mass are very numerous;but most of them are on the east side, where they form a fringe, oftenextending ten or fifteen miles from the main islands. On the west thereare very few, Wamma and Palo Pabi being the chief, with Ougia, andWassia at the north-west extremity. On the east side the sea iseverywhere shallow, and full of coral; and it is here that thepearl-shells are found which form one of the chief staples of Aru trade. All the islands are covered with a dense and very lofty forest. The physical features here described are of peculiar interest, and, asfar as I am aware, are to some extent unique; for I have been unableto find any other record of an island of the size of Aru crossedby channels which exactly resemble true rivers. How these channelsoriginated were a complete puzzle to me, till, after a longconsideration of the whole of the natural phenomena presented bythese islands, I arrived at a conclusion which I will now endeavour toexplain. There are three ways in which we may conceive islands whichare not volcanic to have been formed, or to have been reduced to theirpresent condition, by elevation, by subsidence, or by separation froma continent or larger island. The existence of coral rock, or of raisedbeaches far inland, indicates recent elevation; lagoon coral-islands, and such as have barrier or encircling reefs, have suffered subsidence;while our own islands, whose productions are entirely those of theadjacent continent, have been separated from it. Now the Aru Islands areall coral rock, and the adjacent sea is shallow and full of coral, it istherefore evident that they have been elevated from beneath the oceanat a not very distant epoch. But if we suppose that elevation to be thefirst and only cause of their present condition, we shall find ourselvesquite unable to explain the curious river-channels which divide them. Fissures during upheaval would not produce the regular width, theregular depth, or the winding curves which characterise them; and theaction of tides and currents during their elevation might form straitsof irregular width and depth, but not the river-like channels whichactually exist. If, again, we suppose the last movement to have beenone of subsidence, reducing the size of the islands, these channelsare quite as inexplicable; for subsidence would necessarily lead tothe flooding of all low tracts on the banks of the old rivers, and thusobliterate their courses; whereas these remain perfect, and of nearlyuniform width from end to end. Now if these channels have ever been rivers they must have flowed fromsome higher regions, and this must have been to the east, because on thenorth and west the sea-bottom sinks down at a short distance from theshore to an unfathomable depth; whereas on the east, a shallow sea, nowhere exceeding fifty fathoms, extends quite across to New Guinea, adistance of about a hundred and fifty miles. An elevation of only threehundred feet would convert the whole of this sea into moderately highland, and make the Aru Islands a portion of New Guinea; and the riverswhich have their mouths at Utanata and Wamuka, might then have flowed onacross Aru, in the channels which are now occupied by salt water. Then the intervening land sunk down, we must suppose the land thatnow constitutes Aru to have remained nearly stationary, a not veryimprobable supposition, when we consider the great extent of theshallow sea, and the very small amount of depression the land need haveundergone to produce it. But the fact of the Aru Islands having once been connected with NewGuinea does not rest on this evidence alone. There is such a strikingresemblance between the productions of the two countries as only existsbetween portions of a common territory. I collected one hundred speciesof land-birds in the Aru Islands, and about eighty of them, have beenfound on the mainland of New Guinea. Among these are the great winglesscassowary, two species of heavy brush turkeys, and two of short wingedthrushes; which could certainly not have passed over the 150 miles ofopen sea to the coast of New Guinea. This barrier is equally effectualin the case of many other birds which live only in the depths of theforest, as the kinghunters (Dacelo gaudichaudi), the fly-catching wrens(Todopsis), the great crown pigeon (Goura coronata), and the small wooddoves (Ptilonopus perlatus, P. Aurantiifrons, and P. Coronulatus). Now, to show the real effect of such barrier, let us take the island ofCeram, which is exactly the same distance from New Guinea, but separatedfrom it by a deep sea. Cut of about seventy land-birds inhabiting Ceram, only fifteen are found in New Guinea, and none of these are terrestrialor forest-haunting species. The cassowary is distinct; the kingfishers, parrots, pigeons, flycatchers, honeysuckers, thrushes, and cuckoos, arealmost always quite distinct species. More than this, at least twentygenera, which are common to New Guinea and Aru, do not extend intoCeram, indicating with a force which every naturalist will appreciate, that the two latter countries have received their faunas in a radicallydifferent manner. Again, a true kangaroo is found in Aru, and the samespecies occurs in Mysol, which is equally Papuan in its productions, while either the same, or one closely allied to it, inhabits New Guinea;but no such animal is found in Ceram, which is only sixty miles fromMysol. Another small marsupial animal (Perameles doreyanus) is commonto Aru and New Guinea. The insects show exactly the same results. Thebutterflies of Aru are all either New Guinea species, or very slightlymodified forms; whereas those of Ceram are more distinct than are thebirds of the two countries. It is now generally admitted that we may safely reason on such factsas those, which supply a link in the defective geological record. Theupward and downward movements which any country has undergone, and thesuccession of such movements, can be determined with much accuracy;but geology alone can tell us nothing of lands which have entirelydisappeared beneath the ocean. Here physical geography and thedistribution of animals and plants are of the greatest service. Byascertaining the depth of the seas separating one country from another, we can form some judgment of the changes which are taking place. Ifthere are other evidences of subsidence, a shallow sea implies a formerconnexion of the adjacent lands; but if this evidence is wanting, or ifthere is reason to suspect a rising of the land, then the shallowsea may be the result of that rising, and may indicate that the twocountries will be joined at some future time, but not that they havepreviously been so. The nature of the animals and plants inhabitingthese countries will, however, almost always enable us to determine thisquestion. Mr. Darwin has shown us how we may determine in almost everycase, whether an island has ever been connected with a continent orlarger land, by the presence or absence of terrestrial Mammalia andreptiles. What he terms "oceanic islands" possess neither of thesegroups of animals, though they may have a luxuriant vegetation, and afair number of birds, insects, and landshells; and we therefore concludethat they have originated in mid-ocean, and have never been connectedwith the nearest masses of land. St. Helena, Madeira, and New Zealandare examples of oceanic islands. They possess all other classes of life, because these have means of dispersion over wide spaces of sea, whichterrestrial mammals and birds have not, as is fully explained in SirCharles Lyell's "Principles of Geology, " and Mr. Darwin's "Origin ofSpecies. " On the other hand, an island may never have been actuallyconnected with the adjacent continents or islands, and yet may possessrepresentatives of all classes of animals, because many terrestrialmammals and some reptiles have the means of passing over short distancesof sea. But in these cases the number of species that have thus migratedwill be very small, and there will be great deficiencies even in birdsand flying insects, which we should imagine could easily cross over. The island of Timor (as I have already shown in Chapter XIII) bears thisrelation to Australia; for while it contains several birds and insectsof Australian forms, no Australian mammal or reptile is found in it, and a great number of the most abundant and characteristic forms ofAustralian birds and insects are entirely absent. Contrast this with theBritish Islands, in, which a large proportion of the plants, insects, reptiles, and Mammalia of the adjacent parts of the continent are fullyrepresented, while there are no remarkable deficiencies of extensivegroups, such as always occur when there is reason to believe there hasbeen no such connexion. The case of Sumatra, Borneo, and Java, and theAsiatic continent is equally clear; many large Mammalia, terrestrialbirds, and reptiles being common to all, while a large number moreare of closely allied forms. Now, geology has taught us that thisrepresentation by allied forms in the same locality implies lapse oftime, and we therefore infer that in Great Britain, where almostevery species is absolutely identical with those on the Continent, theseparation has been very recent; while in Sumatra and Java, where aconsiderable number of the continental species are represented by alliedforms, the separation was more remote. From these examples we may see how important a supplement to geologicalevidence is the study of the geographical distribution of animals andplants, in determining the former condition of the earth's surface; andhow impossible it is to understand the former without taking the latterinto account. The productions of the Aru Islands offer the strangestevidence, that at no very distant epoch they formed a part of NewGuinea; and the peculiar physical features which I have described, indicate that they must have stood at very nearly the same level then asthey do now, having been separated by the subsidence of the great plainwhich formerly connected them with it. Persons who have formed the usual ideas of the vegetation of the tropicswho picture to themselves the abundance and brilliancy of the flowers, and the magnificent appearance of hundreds of forest trees covered withmasses of coloured blossoms, will be surprised to hear, that thoughvegetation in Aru is highly luxuriant and varied, and would affordabundance of fine and curious plants to adorn our hothouses, yet brightand showy flowers are, as a general rule, altogether absent, or so veryscarce as to produce no effect whatever on the general scenery. To giveparticulars: I have visited five distinct localities in the islands, Ihave wandered daily in the forests, and have passed along upwards of ahundred miles of coast and river during a period of six months, much ofit very fine weather, and till just as I was about to leave, I never sawa single plant of striking brilliancy or beauty, hardly a shrub equal toa hawthorn, or a climber equal to a honeysuckle! It cannot be said thatthe flowering season had not arrived, for I saw many herbs, shrubs, and forest trees in flower, but all had blossoms of a green orgreenish-white tint, not superior to our lime-trees. Here and there onthe river banks and coasts are a few Convolvulaceae, not equal to ourgarden Ipomaeas, and in the deepest shades of the forest some finescarlet and purple Zingiberaceae, but so few and scattered as to benothing amid the mass of green and flowerless vegetation. Yet the nobleCycadaceae and screw-pines, thirty or forty feet high, the elegant treeferns, the lofty palms, and the variety of beautiful and curious plantswhich everywhere meet the eye, attest the warmth and moisture of thetropics, and the fertility of the soil. It is true that Aru seemed to me exceptionally poor in flowers, butthis is only an exaggeration of a general tropical feature; for mywhole experience in the equatorial regions of the west and the east hasconvinced me, that in the most luxuriant parts of the tropics, flowersare less abundant, on the average less showy, and are far less effectivein adding colour to the landscape than in temperate climates. I havenever seen in the tropics such brilliant masses of colour as evenEngland can show in her furze-clad commons, her heathery mountain-sides, her glades of wild hyacinths, her fields of poppies, her meadows ofbuttercups and orchises--carpets of yellow, purple, azure-blue, andfiery crimson, which the tropics can rarely exhibit. We, have smallermasses of colour in our hawthorn and crab trees, our holly andmountain-ash, our boom; foxgloves, primroses, and purple vetches, whichclothe with gay colours the whole length and breadth of our land, Thesebeauties are all common. They are characteristic of the country and theclimate; they have not to be sought for, but they gladden the eye atevery step. In the regions of the equator, on the other hand, whether itbe forest or savannah, a sombre green clothes universal nature. You mayjourney for hours, and even for days, and meet with nothing to break themonotony. Flowers are everywhere rare, and anything at all striking isonly to be met with at very distant intervals. The idea that nature exhibits gay colours in the tropics, and that thegeneral aspect of nature is there more bright and varied in hue thanwith us, has even been made the foundation of theories of art, and wehave been forbidden to use bright colours in our garments, and in thedecorations of our dwellings, because it was supposed that we should bethereby acting in opposition to the teachings of nature. The argumentitself is a very poor one, since it might with equal justice bemaintained, that as we possess faculties for the appreciation ofcolours, we should make up for the deficiencies of nature and use thegayest tints in those regions where the landscape is most monotonous. But the assumption on which the argument is founded is totally false, so that even if the reasoning were valid, we need not be afraid ofoutraging nature, by decorating our houses and our persons withall those gay hues which are so lavishly spread over our fields andmountains, our hedges, woods, and meadows. It is very easy to see what has led to this erroneous view of the natureof tropical vegetation. In our hothouses and at our flower-shows wegather together the finest flowering plants from the most distantregions of the earth, and exhibit them in a proximity to each otherwhich never occurs in nature. A hundred distinct plants, all withbright, or strange, or gorgeous flowers, make a wonderful show whenbrought together; but perhaps no two of these plants could ever be seentogether in a state of nature, each inhabiting a distant region or adifferent station. Again, all moderately warm extra-European countriesare mixed up with the tropics in general estimation, and a vague ideais formed that whatever is preeminently beautiful must come fromthe hottest parts of the earth. But the fact is quite the contrary. Rhododendrons and azaleas are plants of temperate regions, the grandestlilies are from temperate Japan, and a large proportion of our mostshowy flowering plants are natives of the Himalayas, of the Cape, of theUnited States, of Chili, or of China and Japan, all temperate regions. True, there are a great number of grand and gorgeous flowers in thetropics, but the proportion they bear to the mass of the vegetation isexceedingly small; so that what appears an anomaly is nevertheless afact, and the effect of flowers on the general aspect of nature is farless in the equatorial than in the temperate regions of the earth. CHAPTER XXXIV. NEW GUINEA. --DOREY. (MARCH TO JULY 1858. ) AFTER my return from Gilolo to Ternate, in March 1858, I madearrangements for my long-wished-for voyage to the mainland of NewGuinea, where I anticipated that my collections would surpass thosewhich I had formed at the Aru Islands. The poverty of Ternate inarticles used by Europeans was shown, by my searching in vainthrough all the stores for such common things as flour, metal spoons, wide-mouthed phials, beeswax, a penknife, and a stone or metal pestleand mortar. I took with me four servants: my head man Ali, and a Ternatelad named Jumaat (Friday), to shoot; Lahagi, a steady middle-aged man, to cut timber and assist me in insect-collecting; and Loisa, a Javanesecook. As I knew I should have to build a house at Dorey, where I wasgoing, I took with me eighty cadjans, or waterproof mats, made ofpandanus leaves, to cover over my baggage on first landing, and to helpto roof my house afterwards. We started on the 25th of March in the schooner Hester Helena, belongingto my friend Mr. Duivenboden, and bound on a trading voyage along thenorth coast of New Guinea. Having calms and light airs, we were threedays reaching Gane, near the south end of Gilolo, where we stayed tofill up our water-casks and buy a few provisions. We obtained fowls, eggs, sago, plantains, sweet potatoes, yellow pumpkins, chilies, fish, and dried deer's meat; and on the afternoon of the 29th proceeded on ourvoyage to Dorey harbour. We found it, however, by no means easy to getalong; for so near to the equator the monsoons entirely fail of theirregularity, and after passing the southern point of Gilolo we had calms, light puffs of wind, and contrary currents, which kept us for five daysin sight of the same islands between it and Poppa. A squall thembrought us on to the entrance of Dampier's Straits, where we were againbecalmed, and were three more days creeping through them. Several nativecanoes now came off to us from Waigiou on one side, and Batanta on theother, bringing a few common shells, palm-leaf mats, cocoa-nuts, andpumpkins. They were very extravagant in their demands, being accustomedto sell their trifles to whalers and China ships, whose crews willpurchase anything at ten times its value. My only purchases were a floatbelonging to a turtle-spear, carved to resemble a bird, and a very wellmade palm-leaf box, for which articles I gave a copper ring and a yardof calico. The canoes were very narrow and furnished with an outrigger, and in some of them there was only one man, who seemed to think nothingof coming out alone eight or ten miles from shore. The people werePapuans, much resembling the natives of Aru. When we had got out of the Straits, and were fairly in the great PacificOcean, we had a steady wind for the first time since leaving Ternate, but unfortunately it was dead ahead, and we had to beat against it, tacking on and off the coast of New Guinea. I looked with intenseinterest on those rugged mountains, retreating ridge behind ridge intothe interior, where the foot of civilized man had never trod. Therewas the country of the cassowary and the tree-kangaroo, and those darkforests produced the most extraordinary and the most beautiful of thefeathered inhabitants of the earth--the varied species of Birds ofParadise. A few days more and I hoped to be in pursuit of these, and ofthe scarcely less beautiful insects which accompany them. We had still, however, for several days only calms and light head-winds, and it wasnot till the 10th of April that a fine westerly breeze set in, followedby a squally night, which kept us off the entrance of Dorey harbour. The next morning we entered, and came to anchor off the small islandof Mansinam, on which dwelt two German missionaries, Messrs. Otto andGeisler. The former immediately came on board to give us welcome, and invited us to go on shore and breakfast with him. We were thenintroduced to his companion who was suffering dreadfully from an abscesson the heel, which had confined him to the house for six months--andto his wife, a young German woman, who had been out only three months. Unfortunately she could speak no Malay or English, and had to guess atour compliments on her excellent breakfast by the justice we did to it. These missionaries were working men, and had been sent out, as beingmore useful among savages than persons of a higher class. They hadbeen here about two years, and Mr. Otto had already learnt to speak thePapuan language with fluency, and had begun translating some portions ofthe Bible. The language, however, is so poor that a considerable numberof Malay words have to be used; and it is very questionable whether itis possible to convey any idea of such a book, to a people in so low astate of civilization. The only nominal converts yet made are a few ofthe women; and some few of the children attend school, and are beingtaught to read, but they make little progress. There is one feature ofthis mission which I believe will materially interfere with its moraleffect. The missionaries are allowed to trade to eke out the very smallsalaries granted them from Europe, and of course are obliged to carryout the trade principle of buying cheap and selling dear, in order tomake a profit. Like all savages the natives are quite careless of thefuture, and when their small rice crops are gathered they bring a largeportion of it to the missionaries, and sell it for knives, beads, axes, tobacco, or any other articles they may require. A few months later, inthe wet season, when food is scarce, they come to buy it back again, andgive in exchange tortoiseshell, tripang, wild nutmegs, or other produce. Of course the rice is sold at a much higher rate than it was bought, asis perfectly fair and just--and the operation is on the whole thoroughlybeneficial to the natives, who would otherwise consume and waste theirfood when it was abundant, and then starve--yet I cannot imagine thatthe natives see it in this light. They must look upon the tradingmissionaries with some suspicion, and cannot feel so sure of theirteachings being disinterested, as would be the case if they acted likethe Jesuits in Singapore. The first thing to be done by the missionaryin attempting to improve savages, is to convince them by his actionsthat lie comes among them for their benefit only, and not for anyprivate ends of his own. To do this he must act in a different way fromother men, not trading and taking advantage of the necessities of thosewho want to sell, but rather giving to those who are in distress. Itwould be well if he conformed himself in some degree to native customs, and then endeavoured to show how these customs might be graduallymodified, so as to be more healthful and more agreeable. A few energeticand devoted men acting in this way might probably effect a decided moralimprovement on the lowest savage tribes, whereas trading missionaries, teaching what Jesus said, but not doing as He did, can scarcely beexpected to do more than give them a very little of the superficialvarnish of religion. Dorey harbour is in a fine bay, at one extremity of which an elevatedpoint juts out, and, with two or three small islands, forms a shelteredanchorage. The only vessel it contained when we arrived was a Dutchbrig, laden with coals for the use of a war-steamer, which was expecteddaily, on an exploring expedition along the coasts of New Guinea, forthe purpose of fixing on a locality for a colony. In the evening we paidit a visit, and landed at the village of Dorey, to look out for a placewhere I could build my house. Mr. Otto also made arrangements for mewith some of the native chiefs, to send men to cut wood, rattans, andbamboo the next day. The villages of Mansinam and Dorey presented some features quite newto me. The houses all stand completely in the water, and are reached bylong rude bridges. They are very low, with the roof shaped like a largeboat, bottom upwards. The posts which support the houses, bridges, andplatforms are small crooked sticks, placed without any regularity, andlooking as if they were tumbling down. The floors are also formed ofsticks, equally irregular, and so loose and far apart that I found italmost impossible to walls on them. The walls consist of bits of boards, old boats, rotten mats, attaps, and palm-leaves, stuck in anyhow hereand there, and having altogether the most wretched and dilapidatedappearance it is possible to conceive. Under the eaves of many of thehouses hang human skulls, the trophies of their battles with thesavage Arfaks of the interior, who often come to attack them. A largeboat-shaped council-house is supported on larger posts, each of whichis grossly carved to represent a naked male or female human figure, andother carvings still more revolting are placed upon the platform beforethe entrance. The view of an ancient lake-dweller's village, given asthe frontispiece of Sir Charles Lyell's "Antiquity of Man, " is chieflyfounded on a sketch of this very village of Dorey; but the extremeregularity of the structures there depicted has no place in theoriginal, any more than it probably had in the actual lake-villages. The people who inhabit these miserable huts are very similar to the Keand Aru islanders, and many of them are very handsome, being tall andwell-made, with well-cut features and large aquiline noses. Theircolour is a deep brown, often approaching closely to black, and the finemop-like heads of frizzly hair appear to be more common than elsewhere, and are considered a great ornament, a long six-pronged bamboo forkbeing kept stuck in them to serve the purpose of a comb; and this isassiduously used at idle moments to keep the densely growing mass frombecoming matted and tangled. The majority have short woolly hair, whichdoes not seem capable of an equally luxuriant development. A growth ofhair somewhat similar to this, and almost as abundant, is found amongthe half-breeds between the Indian and Negro in South America. Can thisbe an indication that the Papuans are a mixed race? For the first three days after our arrival I was fully occupied frommorning to night building a house, with the assistance of a dozenPapuans and my own men. It was immense trouble to get our labourers towork, as scarcely one of them could speak a word of Malay; and it wasonly by the most energetic gesticulations, and going through a regularpantomime of what was wanted, that we could get them to do anything. Ifwe made them understand that a few more poles were required, which twocould have easily cut, six or eight would insist upon going together, although we needed their assistance in other things. One morning ten ofthem came to work, bringing only one chopper between them, although theyknew I had none ready for use. I chose a place about two hundred yards from the beach, on an elevatedground, by the side of the chief path from the village of Dorey tothe provision-grounds and the forest. Within twenty yards was a littlestream; which furnished us with excellent water and a nice place tobathe. There was only low underwood to clear away, while some fineforest trees stood at a short distance, and we cut down the wood forabout twenty yards round to give us light and air. The house, abouttwenty feet by fifteen; was built entirely of wood, with a bamboo floor, a single door of thatch, and a large window, looking over the sea, atwhich I fixed my table, and close beside it my bed, within a littlepartition. I bought a number of very large palm-leaf mats of thenatives, which made excellent walls; while the mats I had brought myselfwere used on the roof, and were covered over with attaps as soon as wecould get them made. Outside, and rather behind, was a little hut, usedfor cooking, and a bench, roofed over, where my men could sit to skinbirds and animals. When all was finished, I had my goods and storesbrought up, arranged them conveniently inside, and then paid my Papuanswith knives and choppers, and sent them away. The next day our schoonerleft for the more eastern islands, and I found myself fairly establishedas the only European inhabitant of the vast island of New Guinea. As we had some doubt about the natives, we slept at first with loadedguns beside us and a watch set; but after a few days, finding the peoplefriendly, and feeling sure that they would not venture to attack fivewell-armed men, we took no further precautions. We had still a day ortwo's work in finishing up the house, stopping leaks, putting up ourhanging shelves for drying specimens inside and out, and making the pathdown to the water, and a clear dry space in front of the horse. On the 17th, the steamer not having arrived, the coal-ship left, havinglain here a month, according to her contract; and on the same daymy hunters went out to shoot for the first time, and brought home amagnificent crown pigeon and a few common birds. The next day they weremore successful, and I was delighted to see them return with a Birdof Paradise in full plumage, a pair of the fine Papuan lories (Loriusdomicella), four other lories and parroquets, a grackle (Graculadumonti), a king-hunter (Dacelo gaudichaudi), a racquet-tailedkingfisher (Tanysiptera galatea), and two or three other birds of lessbeauty. I went myself to visit the native village on the hill behind Dorey, andtook with me a small present of cloth, knives, and beads, to secure thegood-will of the chief, and get him to send some men to catch or shootbirds for me. The houses were scattered about among rudely cultivatedclearings. Two which I visited consisted of a central passage, on eachside of which opened short passages, admitting to two rooms, each ofwhich was a house accommodating a separate family. They were elevated atleast fifteen feet above the ground, on a complete forest of poles, and were so rude and dilapidated that some of the small passages hadopenings in the floor of loose sticks, through which a child might fall. The inhabitants seemed rather uglier than those at Dorey village. Theyare, no doubt, the true indigenes of this part of New Guinea, living inthe interior, and subsisting by cultivation and hunting. The Dorey men, on the other hand, are shore-dwellers, fishers and traders in a smallway, and have thus the character of a colony who have migrated fromanother district. These hillmen or "Arfaks" differed much in physicalfeatures. They were generally black, but some were brown like Malays. Their hair, though always more or less frizzly, was sometimes short andmatted, instead of being long, loose, and woolly; and this seemed tobe a constitutional difference, not the effect of care and cultivation. Nearly half of them were afflicted with the scurfy skin-disease. Theold chief seemed much pleased with his present, and promised (throughan interpreter I brought with me) to protect my men when they camethere shooting, and also to procure me some birds and animals. Whileconversing, they smoked tobacco of their own growing, in pipes cut froma single piece of wood with a long upright handle. We had arrived at Dorey about the end of the wet season, when the wholecountry was soaked with moisture The native paths were so neglected asto be often mere tunnels closed over with vegetation, and in such placesthere was always a fearful accumulation of mud. To the naked Papuan thisis no obstruction. He wades through it, and the next watercourse makeshim clean again; but to myself, wearing boots and trousers, it was amost disagreeable thing to have to go up to my knees in a mud-hole everymorning. The man I brought with me to cut wood fell ill soon afterwe arrived, or I would have set him to clear fresh paths in the worstplaces. For the first ten days it generally rained every afternoon andall night r but by going out every hour of fine weather, I managed toget on tolerably with my collections of birds and insects, finding mostof those collected by Lesson during his visit in the Coquille, as wellas many new ones. It appears, however, that Dorey is not the place forBirds of Paradise, none of the natives being accustomed to preservethem. Those sold here are all brought from Amberbaki, about a hundredmiles west, where the Doreyans go to trade. The islands in the bay, with the low lands near the coast, seem to havebeen formed by recently raised coral reef's, and are much strewn withmasses of coral but little altered. The ridge behind my house, whichruns out to the point, is also entirely coral rock, although there aresigns of a stratified foundation in the ravines, and the rock itself ismore compact and crystalline. It is therefore, probably older, a morerecent elevation having exposed the low grounds and islands. On theother side of the bay rise the great mass of the Arfak mountains, said by the French navigators to be about ten thousand feet high, andinhabited by savage tribes. These are held in great dread by the Doreypeople, who have often been attacked and plundered by them, and havesome of their skulls hanging outside their houses. If I was seem goinginto the forest anywhere in the direction of the mountains, the littleboys of the village would shout after me, "Arfaki! Arfaki?" just as theydid after Lesson nearly forty years before. On the 15th of May the Dutch war-steamer Etna arrived; but, as the coalshad gone, it was obliged to stay till they came back. The captain knewwhen the coalship was to arrive, and how long it was chartered to stayat Dorey, and could have been back in time, but supposed it would waitfor him, and so did not hurry himself. The steamer lay at anchor justopposite my house, and I had the advantage of hearing the half-hourlybells struck, which was very pleasant after the monotonous silenceof the forest. The captain, doctor, engineer, and some other of theofficers paid me visits; the servants came to the brook to wash clothes, and the son of the Prince of Tidore, with one or two companions, tobathe; otherwise I saw little of them, and was not disturbed by visitorsso much as I had expected to be. About this time the weather set inpretty fine, but neither birds nor insects became much more abundant, and new birds-were very scarce. None of the Birds of Paradise except thecommon one were ever met with, and we were still searching in vain forseveral of the fine birds which Lesson had obtained here. Insects weretolerably abundant, but were not on the average so fine as those ofAmboyna, and I reluctantly came to the conclusion that Dorey was not agood collecting locality. Butterflies were very scarce, and were mostlythe same as those which I had obtained at Aru. Among the insects of other orders, the most curious and novel werea group of horned flies, of which I obtained four distinct species, settling on fallen trees and decaying trunks. These remarkable insects, which have been described by Mr. W. W. Saunders as a new genus, underthe name of Elaphomia or deer-flies, are about half an inch long, slender-bodied, and with very long legs, which they draw together so asto elevate their bodies high above the surface they are standing upon. The front pair of legs are much shorter, and these are often stretcheddirectly forwards, so as to resemble antenna. The horns spring frombeneath the eye, and seem to be a prolongation of the lower part ofthe orbit. In the largest and most singular species, named Elaphomiacervicornis or the stag-horned deer-fly, these horns are nearly aslong as the body, having two branches, with two small snags near theirbifurcation, so as to resemble the horns of a stag. They are black, withthe tips pale, while the body and legs are yellowish brown, and the eyes(when alive) violet and green. The next species (Elaphomia wallacei) isof a dark brown colour, banded and spotted with yellow. The hornsare about one-third the length of the insect, broad, flat, and of anelongated triangular foam. They are of a beautiful pink colour, edgedwith black, and with a pale central stripe. The front part of the headis also pink, and the eyes violet pink, with a green stripe across them, giving the insect a very elegant and singular appearance. The thirdspecies (Elaphomia alcicornis, the elk-horned deer-fly) is a littlesmaller than the two already described, but resembling in colourElaphomia wallacei. The horns are very remarkable, being suddenlydilated into a flat plate, strongly toothed round the outer margin, and strikingly resembling the horns of the elk, after which it has beennamed. They are of a yellowish colour, margined with brown, and tippedwith black on the three upper teeth. The fourth species (Elaphomiabrevicornis, the short-horned deer-fly) differs considerably from therest. It is stouter in form, of a nearly black colour, with a yellowring at the base of the abdomen; the wings have dusky stripes, and thehead is compressed and dilated laterally, with very small flat horns;which are black with a pale centre, and look exactly like the rudimentof the horns of the two preceding species. None of the females have anytrace of the horns, and Mr. Saunders places in the same genus a specieswhich has no horns in either sex (Elaphomia polita). It is of a shiningblack colour, and resembles Elaphomia cervicornis in form, size, andgeneral appearance. The figures above given represent these insects oftheir natural size and in characteristic attitudes. The natives seldom brought me anything. They are poor creatures, and, rarely shoot a bird, pig, or kangaroo, or even the sluggish opossum-likeCuscus. The tree-kangaroos are found here, but must be very scarce, as my hunters, although out daily in the forest, never once saw them. Cockatoos, lories, and parroquets were really the only commonbirds. Even pigeons were scarce, and in little variety, although weoccasionally got the fine crown pigeon, which was always welcome as anaddition to our scantily furnished larder. Just before the steamer arrived I had wounded my ankle by clamberingamong the trunks and branches of fallen trees (which formed my besthunting grounds for insects), and, as usual with foot wounds in thisclimate, it turned into an obstinate ulcer, keeping me in the housefor several days. When it healed up it was followed by an internalinflammation of the foot, which by the doctor's advice I poulticedincessantly for four or five days, bringing out a severe inflamedswelling on the tendon above the heel. This had to be leeched, andlanced, and doctored with ointments and poultices for several weeks, till I was almost driven to despair, --for the weather was at lengthfine, and I was tantalized by seeing grand butterflies flying past mydoor, and thinking of the twenty or thirty new species of insects thatI ought to be getting every day. And this, too, in New Guinea--a countrywhich I might never visit again, --a country which no naturalist had everresided in before, --a country which contained more strange and newand beautiful natural objects than any other part of the globe. Thenaturalist will be able to appreciate my feelings, sitting from morningto night in my little hut, unable to move without a crutch, and my onlysolace the birds my hunters brought in every afternoon, and the fewinsects caught by my Ternate man, Lahagi, who now went out daily in myplace, but who of course did not get a fourth part of what I should haveobtained. To add to my troubles all my men were more or less ill, somewith fever, others with dysentery or ague; at one time there were threeof them besides myself all helpless, the coon alone being well, andhaving enough to do to wait upon us. The Prince of Tidore and theResident of Panda were both on board the steamer, and were seeking Birdsof Paradise, sending men round in every direction, so that there wasno chance of my getting even native skins of the rarer kinds; and anybirds, insects, or animals the Dorey people had to sell were taken onboard the steamer, where purchasers were found for everything, and wherea larger variety of articles were offered in exchange than I had toshow. After a month's close confinement in the house I was at length able togo out a little, and about the same time I succeeded in getting a boatand six natives to take Ali and Lahagi to Amberbaki, and to bring themback at the end of a month. Ali was charged to buy all the Birds ofParadise he could get, and to shoot and skin all other rare or newbirds; and Lahagi was to collect insects, which I hoped might be moreabundant than at Dorey. When I recommenced my daily walks in searchof insects, I found a great change in the neighbourhood, and one veryagreeable to me. All the time I had been laid up the ship's crew and theJavanese soldiers who had been brought in a tender (a sailing shipwhich had arrived soon after the Etna), had been employed cutting down, sawing, and splitting large trees for firewood, to enable the steamer toget back to Amboyna if the coal-ship did not return; and they had alsocleared a number of wide, straight paths through the forest in variousdirections, greatly to the astonishment of the natives, who could notmake out what it all meant. I had now a variety of walks, and a gooddeal of dead wood on which to search for insects; but notwithstandingthese advantages, they were not nearly so plentiful as I had found themat Sarawak, or Amboyna, or Batchian, confirming my opinion that Doreywas not a good locality. It is quite probable, however, that at astation a few miles in the interior, away from the recently elevatedcoralline rocks and the influence of the sea air, a much more abundantharvest might be obtained. One afternoon I went on board the steamer to return the captain's visit, and was shown some very nice sketches (by one of the lieutenants), madeon the south coast, and also at the Arfak mountain, to which they hadmade an excursion. From these and the captain's description, it appearedthat the people of Arfak were similar to those of Dorey, and I couldhear nothing of the straight-haired race which Lesson says inhabits theinterior, but which no one has ever seen, and the account of which Isuspect has originated in some mistake. The captain told me he had madea detailed survey of part of the south coast, and if the coal arrivedshould go away at once to Humboldt Pay, in longitude 141° east, which isthe line up to which the Dutch claim New Guinea. On board the tenderI found a brother naturalist, a German named Rosenberg, who wasdraughtsman to the surveying staff. He had brought two men with him toshoot and skin birds, and had been able to purchase a few rare skinsfrom the natives. Among these was a pair of the superb Paradise Pie(Astrapia nigra) in tolerable preservation. They were brought from theisland of Jobie, which may be its native country, as it certainly isof the rarer species of crown pigeon (Goura steursii), one of which wasbrought alive and sold on board. Jobie, however, is a very dangerousplace, and sailors are often murdered there when on shore; sometimes thevessels themselves being attacked. Wandammen, on the mainland oppositeJobie, inhere there are said to be plenty of birds, is even worse, andat either of these places my life would not have been worth a week'spurchase had I ventured to live alone and unprotected as at Dorey. Onboard the steamer they had a pair of tree kangaroos alive. They differchiefly from the ground-kangaroo in having a more hairy tail, notthickened at the base, and not used as a prop; and by the powerful clawson the fore-feet, by which they grasp the bark and branches, and seizethe leaves on which they feed. They move along by short jumps on theirhind-feet, which do not seem particularly well adapted for climbingtrees. It has been supposed that these tree-kangaroos are a specialadaptation to the swampy, half-drowned forests of, New Guinea, in placeof the usual form of the group, which is adapted only to dry ground. Mr. Windsor Earl makes much of this theory, but, unfortunately for it, the tree-kangaroos are chiefly found in the northern peninsula of NewGuinea, which is entirely composed of hills and mountains with verylittle flat land, while the kangaroo of the low flat Aru Islands(Dorcopsis asiaticus) is a ground species. A more probable suppositionseems to lie, that the tree-kangaroo has been modified to enable it tofeed on foliage in the vast forests of New Guinea, as these form thegreat natural feature which distinguishes that country from Australia. On June 5th, the coal-ship arrived, having been sent back from Amboyna, with the addition of some fresh stores for the steamer. The wood, whichhad been almost all taken on board, was now unladen again, the coaltaken in, and on the 17th both steamer and tender left for Humboldt Bay. We were then a little quiet again, and got something to eat; for whilethe vessels were here every bit of fish or vegetable was taken on board, and I had often to make a small parroquet serve for two meals. My mennow returned from Amberbaki, but, alas brought me almost nothing. Theyhad visited several villages, and even went two days' journey into theinterior, but could find no skins of Birds of Paradise to purchase, except the common kind, and very few even of those. The birds foundwere the same as at Dorey, but were still scarcer. None of the nativesanywhere near the coast shoot or prepare Birds of Paradise, which comefrom far in the interior over two or three ranges of mountains, passingby barter from village to village till they reach the sea. There thenatives of Dorey buy them, and on their return home sell them to theBugis or Ternate traders. It is therefore hopeless for a traveller to goto any particular place on the coast of New Guinea where rare Paradisebirds may have been bought, in hopes of obtaining freshly killedspecimens from the natives; and it also shows the scarcity of thesebirds in any one locality, since from the Amberbaki district, acelebrated place, where at least five or six species have been procured, not one of the rarer ones has been obtained this year. The Prince ofTidore, who would certainly have got them if any were to be had, wasobliged to put up with a few of the common yellow ones. I think itprobable that a longer residence at Dorey, a little farther in theinterior, might show that several of the rarer kinds were found there, as I obtained a single female of the fine scale-breasted Ptilorismagnificus. I was told at Ternate of a bird that is certainly not yetknown in Europe, a black King Paradise Bird, with the curled tail andbeautiful side plumes of the common species, but all the rest of theplumage glossy black. The people of Dorey knew nothing about this, although they recognised by description most of the otter species. When the steamer left, I was suffering from a severe attack of fever. Inabout a week I got over this, but it was followed by such a soreness ofthe whole inside of the mouth, tongue, and gums, that for many daysI could put nothing solid between my lips, but was obliged to subsistentirely on slops, although in other respects very well. At the sametime two of my men again fell ill, one with fever, the other withdysentery, and both got very bad. I did what I could for them with mysmall stock of medicines, but they lingered on for some weeks, tillon June 26th poor Jumaat died. He was about eighteen years of age, anative, I believe, of Bouton, and a quiet lad, not very active, butdoing his work pretty steadily, and as well as he was able. As my menwere all Mahometans, I let them bury him in their own fashion, givingthem some new cotton cloth for a shroud. On July 6th the steamer returned from the eastward. The weather wasstill terribly wet, when, according to rule, it should have been fineand dry. We had scarcely anything to eat, and were all of us ill. Fevers, colds, and dysentery were continually attacking us, and made melong I-o get away from New Guinea, as much as ever I had longed tocome there. The captain of the Etna paid me a visit, and gave me a veryinteresting account of his trip. They had stayed at Humboldt Bay severaldays, and found it a much more beautiful and more interesting placethan Dorey, as well as a better harbour. The natives were quiteunsophisticated, being rarely visited except by stray whalers, and theywere superior to the Dorey people, morally and physically. They wentquite naked. Their houses were some in the water and some inland, andwere all neatly and well built; their fields were well cultivated, and the paths to them kept clear and open, in which respects Dorey isabominable. They were shy at first, and opposed the boats with hostiledemonstrations, beading their bows, and intimating that they would shootif an attempt was made to land. Very judiciously the captain gave way, but threw on shore a few presents, and after two or three trials theywere permitted to land, and to go about and see the country, and weresupplied with fruits and vegetables. All communication was carried onwith them by signs--the Dorey interpreter, who accompanied the steamer, being unable to understand a word of their language. No new birds oranimals were obtained, but in their ornaments the feathers of Paradisebirds were seen, showing, as might be expected, that these birds rangefar in this direction, and probably all over New Guinea. It is curious that a rudimental love of art should co-exist with sucha very low state of civilization. The people of Dorey are great carversand painters. The outsides of the houses, wherever there is a plank, arecovered with rude yet characteristic figures. The high-peaked prows oftheir boats are ornamented with masses of open filagree work, cut outof solid blocks of wood, and often of very tasteful design, As afigurehead, or pinnacle, there is often a human figure, with a headof cassowary feathers to imitate the Papuan "mop. " The floats of theirfishing-lines, the wooden beaters used in tempering the clay for theirpottery, their tobacco-boxes, and other household articles, are coveredwith carving of tasteful and often elegant design. Did we not alreadyknow that such taste and skill are compatible with utter barbarism, wecould hardly believe that the same people are, in other matters, utterlywanting in all sense of order, comfort, or decency. Yet such is thecase. They live in the most miserable, crazy, and filthy hovels, whichare utterly destitute of anything that can be called furniture; not astool, or bench, or board is seen in them, no brush seems to be known, and the clothes they wear are often filthy bark, or rags, or sacking. Along the paths where they daily pass to and from their provisiongrounds, not an overhanging bough or straggling briar ever seems to becut, so that you have to brush through a rank vegetation, creep underfallen trees and spiny creepers, and wade through pools of mud and mire, which cannot dry up because the sun is not allowed to penetrate. Theirfood is almost wholly roots and vegetables, with fish or game only asan occasional luxury, and they are consequently very subject to variousskin diseases, the children especially being often miserable-lookingobjects, blotched all over with eruptions and sores. If these people arenot savages, where shall we find any? Yet they have all a decided lovefor the fine arts, and spend their leisure time in executing works whosegood taste and elegance would often be admired in our schools of design! During the latter part of my stay in New Guinea the weather was verywet, my only shooter was ill, and birds became scarce, so that my onlyresource was insect-hunting. I worked very hard every hour of fineweather, and daily obtained a number of new species. Every dead treeand fallen log was searched and searched again; and among the dry androtting leaves, which still hung on certain trees which had been cutdown, I found an abundant harvest of minute Coleoptera. Although I neverafterwards found so many large and handsome beetles as in Borneo, yetI obtained here a great variety of species. For the first two or threeweeks, while I was searching out the best localities, I took about 30different kinds of beetles n day, besides about half that number ofbutterflies, and a few of the other orders. But afterwards, up to thevery last week, I averaged 49 species a day. On the 31st of May, I took78 distinct sorts, a larger number than I had ever captured before, principally obtained among dead trees and under rotten bark. A good longwalk on a fine day up the hill, and to the plantations of the natives, capturing everything not very common that came in my way, would produceabout 60 species; but on the last day of June I brought home no lessthan 95 distinct kinds of beetles, a larger number than I ever obtainedin one day before or since. It was a fine hot day, and I devoted it toa search among dead leaves, beating foliage, and hunting under rottenbark, in all the best stations I had discovered during my walks. I wasout from ten in the morning till three in the afternoon, and it tookme six hours' work at home to pin and set out all the specimens, andto separate the species. Although T had already been working this shotdaily for two months and a half, and had obtained over 800 speciesof Coleoptera, this day's work added 32 new ones. Among these were 4Longicorns, 2 Caribidae, 7 Staphylinidae, 7 Curculionidae, 2 Copridae, 4Chrysomelidae, 3 Heteromera, 1 Elates, and 1 Buprestis. Even on the lastday I went out, I obtained 10 new species; so that although I collectedover a thousand distinct sorts of beetles in a space not much exceedinga square mile during the three months of my residence at Dorey, I cannotbelieve that this represents one half the species really inhabiting thesame spot, or a fourth of what might be obtained in an area extendingtwenty miles in each direction. On the 22d of July the schooner Hester Helena arrived, and five daysafterwards we bade adieu to Dorey, without much regret, for in no placewhich I have visited have I encountered more privations and annoyances. Continual rain, continual sickness, little wholesome food, with a plagueof ants and files, surpassing anything I had before met with, requiredall a naturalist's ardour to encounter; and when they were uncompensatedby great success in collecting, became all the more insupportable. Thislong thought-of and much-desired voyage to New Guinea had realized noneof my expectations. Instead of being far better than the Aru Islands, itwas in almost everything much worse. Instead of producing several ofthe rarer Paradise birds, I had not even seen one of them, and hadnot obtained any one superlatively fine bird or insect. I cannot deny, however, that Dorey was very rich in ants. One small black kind wasexcessively abundant. Almost every shrub and tree was more or lessinfested with it, and its large papery nests were everywhere to be seen. They immediately took possession of my house, building a large nestin the roof, and forming papery tunnels down almost every post. Theyswarmed on my table as I was at work setting out my insects, carryingthem off from under my very nose, and even tearing them from the cardson which they were gummed if I left them for an instant. They crawledcontinually over my hands and face, got into my hair, and roamed at willover my whole body, not producing much inconvenience till they beganto bite, which they would do on meeting with any obstruction to theirpassage, and with a sharpness which made me jump again and rush toundress and turn out the offender. They visited my bed also, so thatnight brought no relief from their persecutions; and I verily believethat during my three and a half months' residence at Dorey I was neverfor a single hour entirely free from them. They were not nearly sovoracious as many other kinds, but their numbers and ubiquity renderedit necessary to be constantly on guard against them. The flies that troubled me most were a large kind of blue-bottle orblow-fly. These settled in swarms on my bird skins when first put out todry, filling their plumage with masses of eggs, which, if neglected, thenext day produced maggots. They would get under the wings or under thebody where it rested on the drying-board, sometimes actually raising itup half an inch by the mass of eggs deposited in a few hours; and everyegg was so firmly glued to the fibres of the feathers, as to make ita work of much time and patience to get them off without injuring thebird. In no other locality have I ever been troubled with such a plagueas this. On the 29th we left Dorey, and expected a quick voyage home, as it wasthe time of year when we ought to have had steady southerly and easterlywinds. Instead of these, however, we had calms and westerly breezes, and it was seventeen days before we reached Ternate, a distance of fivehundred miles only, which, with average winds, could have been done infive days. It was a great treat to me to find myself back again in mycomfortable house, enjoying milk to my tea and coffee, fresh bread andbutter, and fowl and fish daily for dinner. This New Guinea voyage hadused us all up, and I determined to stay and recruit before I commencedany fresh expeditions. My succeeding journeys to Gilolo and Batchianhave already been narrated, and if; now only remains for me to give anaccount of my residence in Waigiou, the last Papuan territory I visitedin search of Birds of Paradise. CHAPTER XXXV. VOYAGE FROM CERAM TO WAIGIOU. (JUNE AND JULY 1860. ) IN my twenty-fifth chapter I have described my arrival at Wahai, on myway to Mysol and Waigiou, islands which belong to the Papuan district, and the account of which naturally follows after that of my visit to themainland of New Guinea. I now take up my narrative at my departure fromWahai, with the intention of carrying various necessary stores to myassistant, Mr. Allen, at Silinta, in Mysol, and then continuing myjourney to Waigiou. It will be remembered that I was travelling in asmall prau, which I had purchased and fitted up in Goram, and that, having been deserted by my crew on the coast of Ceram, I had obtainedfour men at Wahai, who, with my Amboynese hunter, constituted my crew. Between Ceram and Mysol there are sixty miles of open sea, and alongthis wide channel the east monsoon blows strongly; so that with nativepraus, which will not lay up to the wind, it requires some care incrossing. In order to give ourselves sufficient leeway, we sailed backfrom Wahai eastward, along the coast of Ceram, with the land-breeze; butin the morning (June 18th) had not gone nearly so far as I expected. My pilot, an old and experienced sailor, named Gurulampoko, assured methere was a current setting to the eastward, and that we could easilylay across to Silinta, in Mysol. As we got out from the land the windincreased, and there was a considerable sea, which made my short littlevessel plunge and roll about violently. By sunset we had not gothalfway across, but could see Mysol distinctly. All night we went alonguneasily, and at daybreak, on looking out anxiously, I found that we hadfallen much to the westward during the night, owing, no doubt, to thepilot being sleepy and not keeping the boat sufficiently close to thewind. We could see the mountains distinctly, but it was clear we shouldnot reach Silinta, and should have some difficulty in getting to theextreme westward point of the island. The sea was now very boisterous, and our prau was continually beaten to leeward by the waves, and afteranother weary day we found w e could not get to Mysol at all, but mightperhaps reach the island called Pulo Kanary, about ten miles to thenorth-west. Thence we might await a favourable wind to reach Waigamma, on the north side of the island, and visit Allen by means of a smallboat. About nine o'clock at night, greatly to my satisfaction, we got underthe lea of this island, into quite smooth water--for I had been verysick and uncomfortable, and had eaten scarcely anything since thepreceding morning. We were slowly nearing the shore, which the smoothdark water told us we could safely approach; and were congratulatingourselves on soon being at anchor, with the prospect of hot coffee, agood supper, and a sound sleep, when the wind completely dropped, and wehad to get out the oars to row. We were not more than two hundred yardsfrom the shore, when I noticed that we seemed to get no nearer althoughthe men were rowing hard, but drifted to the westward, and the prauwould not obey the helm, but continually fell off, and gave us muchtrouble to bring her up again. Soon a laud ripple of water told us wewere seized by one of those treacherous currents which so frequentlyfrustrate all the efforts of the voyager in these seas; the men threwdown the oars in despair, and in a few minutes we drifted to leewardof the island fairly out to sea again, and lost our last chance of everreaching Mysol! Hoisting our jib, we lay to, and in the morning foundourselves only a few miles from the island, but wit, such a steady windblowing from its direction as to render it impossible for us to get backto it. We now made sail to the northward, hoping soon to get a more southerlywind. Towards noon the sea was much smoother, and with a S. S. E. Wind wewere laying in the direction of Salwatty, which I hoped to reach, asI could there easily get a boat to take provisions and stores to mycompanion in Mysol. This wind did not, however, last long, but died awayinto a calm; and a light west wind springing up, with a dark bank ofclouds, again gave us hopes of reaching Mysol. We were soon, however, again disappointed. The E. S. E. Wind began to blow again with violence, and continued all night in irregular gusts, and with a short cross seatossed us about unmercifully, and so continually took our sails aback, that we were at length forced to run before it with our jib only, toescape being swamped by our heavy mainsail. After another miserable andanxious night, we found that we had drifted westward of the island ofPoppa, and the wind being again a little southerly, we made all sailin order to reach it. This we did not succeed in doing, passing to thenorth-west, when the wind again blew hard from the E. S. E. , and our lasthope of finding a refuge till better weather was frustrated. This was avery serious matter to me, as I could not tell how Charles Allen mightact, if, after waiting in vain for me, he should return to Wahai, andfind that I had left there long before, and had not since been heardof. Such an event as our missing an island forty miles long would hardlyoccur to him, and he would conclude either that our boat had foundered, or that my crew had murdered me and run away with her. However, as itwas physically impossible now for me to reach him, the only thing to bedone was to make the best of my way to Waigiou, and trust to our meetingsome traders, who might convey to him the news of my safety. Finding on my map a group of three small islands, twenty-five milesnorth of Poppa, I resolved, if possible, to rest there a day or two. Wecould lay our boat's head N. E. By N. ; but a heavy sea from the eastwardso continually beat us off our course, and we made so much leeway, that I found it would be as much as we could do to reach them. It was adelicate point to keep our head in the best direction, neither so closeto the wind as to stop our way, or so free as to carry us too far toleeward. I continually directed the steersman myself, and by incessantvigilance succeeded, just at sunset, in bringing our boat to an anchorunder the lee of the southern point of one of the islands. The anchoragewas, however, by no means good, there being a fringing coral reef, dryat low water, beyond which, on a bottom strewn with masses of coral, wewere obliged to anchor. We had now been incessantly tossing about forfour days in our small undecked boat, with constant disappointmentsand anxiety, and it was a great comfort to have a night of quiet andcomparative safety. My old pilot had never left the helm for more thanan hour at a time, when one of the others would relieve him for a littlesleep; so I determined the next morning to look out for a secure andconvenient harbour, and rest on shore for a day. In the morning, finding it would be necessary for us to get round arocky point, I wanted my men to go on shore and cut jungle-rope, bywhich to secure us from being again drafted away, as the wind wasdirectly off shore. I unfortunately, however, allowed myself to beoverruled by the pilot and crew, who all declared that it was theeasiest thing possible, and that they would row the boat round the pointin a few minutes. They accordingly got up the anchor, set the jib, andbegan rowing; but, just as I had feared, we drifted rapidly off shore, and had to drop anchor again in deeper water, and much farther off. Thetwo best men, a Papuan and a Malay now swam on shore, each carrying ahatchet, and went into the jungle to seek creepers for rope. Afterabout an hour our anchor loosed hold, and began to drag. This alarmedme greatly, and we let go our spare anchor, and, by running out all ourcable, appeared tolerably secure again. We were now most anxious for thereturn of the men, and were going to fire our muskets to recall them, when we observed them on the beach, some way off, and almost immediatelyour anchors again slipped, and we drifted slowly away into deep water. We instantly seized the oars, but found we could not counteract the windand current, and our frantic cries to the men were not heard till we hadgot a long way off; as they seemed to be hunting for shell-fish onthe beach. Very soon, however, they stared at us, and in a few minutesseemed to comprehend their situation; for they rushed down into thewater, as if to swim off, but again returned on shore, as if afraid tomake the attempt. We had drawn up our anchors at first not to check ourrowing; but now, finding we could do nothing, we let them both hang downby the full length of the cables. This stopped our way very much, and wedrifted from shore very slowly, and hoped the men would hastily form araft, or cut down a soft-wood tree, and paddle out, to us, as we werestill not more than a third of a mile from shore. They seemed, however, to have half lost their senses, gesticulating wildly to us, runningalong the beach, then going unto the forest; and just when we thoughtthey had prepared some mode of making an attempt to reach us, we sawthe smoke of a fire they had made to cook their shell-fish! They hadevidently given up all idea of coming after us, and we were obliged tolook to our own position. We were now about a mile from shore, and midway between two of theislands, but we were slowly drifting out, to sea to the westward, andour only chance of yet saving the men was to reach the opposite shore. We therefore sot our jib and rowed hard; but the wind failed, and wedrifted out so rapidly that we had some difficulty in reaching theextreme westerly point of the island. Our only sailor left, thenswam ashore with a rope, and helped to tow us round the point into atolerably safe and secure anchorage, well sheltered from the wind, butexposed to a little swell which jerked our anchor and made us ratheruneasy. We were now in a sad plight, having lost our two best men, andbeing doubtful if we had strength left to hoist our mainsail. We hadonly two days' water on board, and the small, rocky, volcanic islanddid not promise us much chance of finding any. The conduct of the men onshore was such as to render it doubtful if they would make any seriousattempt to reach us, though they might easily do so, having two goodchoppers, with which in a day they could male a small outrigger raft onwhich they could safely cross the two miles of smooth sea with the windright aft, if they started from the east end of the island, so as toallow for the current. I could only hope they would be sensible enoughto make the attempt, and determined to stay as long as I could to givethem the chance. We passed an anxious night, fearful of again breaking our anchor orrattan cable. In the morning (23d), finding all secure, I waded on shorewith my two men, leaving the old steersman and the cook on board, witha loaded musketto recall us if needed. We first walked along the beach, till stopped by the vertical cliffs at the east end of the island, finding a place where meat had been smoked, a turtle-shell still greasy, and some cut wood, the leaves of which were still green, showing thatsome boat had been here very recently. We then entered the jungle, cutting our way up to the top of the hill, but when we got there couldsee nothing, owing to the thickness of the forest. Returning, we cutsome bamboos, and sharpened them to dig for water in a low spot wheresome sago-trees were growing; when, just as we were going to begin, Hoi, the Wahai man, called out to say he had found water. It was a deep holeamong the Sago trees, in stiff black clay, full of water, which wasfresh, but smelt horribly from the quantity of dead leaves and sagorefuse that had fallen in. Hastily concluding that it was a spring, orthat the water had filtered in, we baled it all out as well as a dozenor twenty buckets of mud and rubbish, hoping by night to have a goodsupply of clean water. I then went on board to breakfast, leaving my twomen to make a bamboo raft to carry us on shore and back without wading. I had scarcely finished when our cable broke, and we bumped againstthe rocks. Luckily it was smooth and calm, and no damage was done. Wesearched for and got up our anchor, and found teat the cable had beencut by grating all night upon the coral. Had it given way in the night, we might have drifted out to sea without our anchor, or been seriouslydamaged. In the evening we went to fetch water from the well, when, greatly to our dismay, we found nothing but a little liquid mud at thebottom, and it then became evident that the hole was one which had beenmade to collect rain water, and would never fill again as long as thepresent drought continued. As we did not know what we might suffer forwant of water, we filled our jar with this muddy stuff so that it mightsettle. In the afternoon I crossed over to the other side of the island, and made a large fire, in order that our men might see we were stillthere. The next day (24th) I determined to have another search for water; andwhen the tide was out rounded a rocky point and went to the extremity ofthe island without finding any sign of the smallest stream. On our wayback, noticing a very small dry bed of a watercourse, I went up it toexplore, although everything was so dry that my men loudly declared itwas useless to expect water there; but a little way up I was rewarded byfinding a few pints in a small pool. We searched higher up in every holeand channel where water marks appeared, but could find not a drop more. Sending one of my men for a large jar and teacup, we searched along thebeach till we found signs of another dry watercourse, and on ascendingthis were so fortunate as to discover two deep sheltered rock-holescontaining several gallons of water, enough to fill all our jars. Whenthe cup came we enjoyed a good drink of the cool pure water, and beforewe left had carried away, I believe, every drop on the island. In the evening a good-sized prau appeared in sight, making apparentlyfor the island where our men were left, and we had some hopes they mightbe seen and picked up, but it passed along mid-channel, and did notnotice the signals we tried to make. I was now, however, pretty easy asto the fate of the men. There was plenty of sago on our rocky island, and there world probably be some on the fiat one they were left on. Theyhad choppers, and could cut down a tree and make sago, and would mostlikely find sufficient water by digging. Shell-fish were abundant, and they would be able to manage very well till some boat should touchthere, or till I could send and fetch them. The next day we devoted tocutting wood, filling up our jars with all the water we could find, and making ready to sail in the evening. I shot a small lory closelyresembling a common species at Ternate, and a glossy starlingwhich differed from the allied birds of Ceram and Matabello. Largewood-pigeons and crows were the only other birds I saw, but I did notobtain specimens. About eight in the evening of June 25th we started, and found that withall hands at work we could just haul up our mainsail. We had a fair windduring the night and sailed north-east, finding ourselves in the morningabout twenty miles west of the extremity of Waigiou with a number ofislands intervening. About ten o'clock we ran full on to a coral reef, which alarmed us a good deal, but luckily got safe off again. About twoin the afternoon we reached an extensive coral reef, and were sailingclose alongside of it, when the wind suddenly dropped, and we drifted onto it before we could get in our heavy mainsail, which we were obligedto let run down and fall partly overboard. We had much difficulty ingetting off, but at last got into deep water again, though with reefsand islands all around us. At night we did not know what to do, as noone on board could tell where we were or what dangers might surround us, the only one of our crew who was acquainted with the coast of Waigiouhaving been left on the island. We therefore took in all sail andallowed ourselves to drift, as we were some miles from the nearestland. A light breeze, however, sprang up, and about midnight we foundourselves again bumping over a coral reef. As it was very dark, and weknew nothing of our position, we could only guess how to get off again, and had there been a little more wind we might have been knocked topieces. However, in about half an hour we did get off, and then thoughtit best to anchor on the edge of the reef till morning. Soon afterdaylight on the 7th, finding our prau had received no damage, we sailedon with uncertain winds and squalls, threading our way among islandsand reefs, and guided only by a small map, which was very incorrectand quite useless, and by a general notion of the direction we oughtto take. In the afternoon we found a tolerable anchorage under a smallisland and stayed for the night, and I shot a large fruit-pigeon new tome, which I have since named Carpophaga tumida. I also saw and shot atthe rare white-headed kingfisher (Halcyon saurophaga), but did not killit. The next morning we sailed on, and having a fair wind reached theshores of the large island of Waigiou. On rounding a point we again ranfull on to a coral reef with our mainsail up, but luckily the wind hadalmost died away, and with a good deal of exertion we managed get safelyoff. We now had to search for the narrow channel among islands, which we knewwas somewhere hereabouts, and which leads to the villages on the southside of Waigiou. Entering a deep bay which looked promising, we got tothe end of it, but it was then dusk, so we anchored for the night, andhaving just finished all our water could cook no rice for supper. Nextmorning early (29th) we went on shore among the mangroves, and a littleway inland found some water, which relieved our anxiety considerably, and left us free to go along the coast in search of the opening, or ofsome one who could direct us to it. During the three days we had nowbeen among the reefs and islands, we had only seen a single small canoe, which had approached pretty near to us, and then, notwithstanding oursignals, went off in another direction. The shores seemed all desert;not a house, or boat, or human being, or a puff of smoke was to be seen;and as we could only go on the course that the ever-changing wind wouldallow us (our hands being too few to row any distance), our prospects ofgetting to our destination seemed rather remote and precarious. Havinggone to the eastward extremity of the deep bay we had entered, withoutfinding any sign of an opening, we turned westward; and towards eveningwere so fortunate as to find a small village of seven miserable housesbuilt on piles in the water. Luckily the Orang-kaya, or head man, couldspeak a little. Malay, and informed us that the entrance to the straitwas really in the bay we had examined, but that it was not to be seenexcept when close inshore. He said the strait was often very narrow, andwound among lakes and rocks and islands, and that it would take two daysto reach the large village of Muka, and three more to get to Waigiou. Isucceeded in hiring two men to go with us to Muka, bringing a small boatin which to return; but we had to wait a day for our guides, so I tookmy gun and made a little excursion info the forest. The day was wet anddrizzly, and I only succeeded in shooting two small birds, but I saw thegreat black cockatoo, and had a glimpse of one or two Birds of Paradise, whose loud screams we had heard on first approaching the coast. Leavingthe village the next morning (July 1st) with a light wind, it took usall day to reach the entrance to the channel, which resembled a smallriver, and was concealed by a projecting point, so that it was no wonderwe did not discover it amid the dense forest vegetation which everywherecovers these islands to the water's edge. A little way inside it becomesbounded by precipitous rocks, after winding among which for about twomiles, we emerged into what seemed a lake, but which was in fact a deepgulf having a narrow entrance on the south coast. This gulf was studdedalong its shores with numbers of rocky islets, mostly mushroom shaped, from the `eater having worn away the lower part of the soluble corallinelimestone, leaving them overhanging from ten to twenty feet. Every isletwas covered will strange-looping shrubs and trees, and was generallycrowned by lofty and elegant palms, which also studded the ridges ofthe mountainous shores, forming one of the most singular and picturesquelandscapes I have ever seen. The current which had brought us throughthe narrow strait now ceased, and we were obliged to row, which with ourshort and heavy prau was slow work. I went on shore several times, butthe rocks were so precipitous, sharp, and honeycombed, that I foundit impossible to get through the tangled thicket with which they wereeverywhere clothed. It took us three days to get to the entrance of thegulf, and then the wind was such as to prevent our going any further, and we might have had to wait for days or weeps, when, much to mysurprise and gratification, a boat arrived from Muka with one of thehead men, who had in some mysterious manner heard I was on my way, and had come to my assistance, bringing a present of cocoa-nuts andvegetables. Being thoroughly acquainted with the coast, and havingseveral extra men to assist us, he managed to get the prau along byrowing, poling, or sailing, and by night had brought us safely intoharbour, a great relief after our tedious and unhappy voyage. We hadbeen already eight days among the reefs and islands of Waigiou, cominga distance of about fifty miles, and it was just forty days since we hadsailed from Goram. Immediately on our arrival at Muka, I engaged a small boat and threenatives to go in search of my lost men, and sent one of my own men withthem to make sure of their going to the right island. In ten days theyreturned, but to my great regret and disappointment, without the men. The weather had been very bad, and though they had reached an islandwithin sight of that in which the men were, they could get no further. They had waited there six days for better weather, and then, having nomore provisions, and the man I had sent with them being very ill andnot expected to live, they returned. As they now knew the island, I wasdetermined they should make another trial, and (by a liberal payment ofknives, handkerchiefs, and tobacco, with plenty of provisions) persuadedthem to start back immediately, and make another attempt. They did notreturn again till the 29th of July, having stayed a few days at theirown village of Bessir on the way; but this time they had succeeded andbrought with them my two lost men, in tolerable health, though thin andweak. They had lived exactly a month on the island had found water, and had subsisted on the roots and tender flower-stalks of a species ofBromelia, on shell-fish and on a few turtles' eggs. Having swum to theisland, they had only a pair of trousers and a shirt between them, buthad made a hut of palm-leaves, and had altogether got on very well. Theysaw that I waited for them three days at the opposite island, but hadbeen afraid to cross, lest the current should have carried them out tosea, when they would have been inevitably lost. They had felt sure Iwould send for them on the first opportunity, and appeared more gratefulthan natives usually are for my having done so; while I felt muchrelieved that my voyage, though sufficiently unfortunate, had notinvolved loss of life. CHAPTER XXXVI. WAIGIOU. (JULY TO SEPTEMBER 1860. ) THE village of Muka, on the south coast of Waigiou, consists of a numberof poor huts, partly in the water and partly on shore, and scatteredirregularly over a space of about half a mile in a shallow bay. Aroundit are a few cultivated patches, and a good deal of second-growth woodyvegetation; while behind, at the distance of about half a mile, risesthe virgin forest, through which are a few paths to some houses andplantations a mile or two inland. The country round is rather flat, and in places swampy, and there are one or two small streams which runbehind the village into the sea below it. Finding that no house couldbe had suitable to my purpose, and hawing so often experienced theadvantages of living close to or just within the forest, I obtained theassistance of half-a-dozen men; and having selected a spot near the pathand the stream, and close to a fine fig-tree, which stood just withinthe forest, we cleared the ground and set to building a house. As I didnot expect to stay here so long as I had done at Dorey, I built a long, low, narrow shed, about seven feet high on one side and four on theother, which required but little wood, and was put up very rapidly. Oursails, with a few old attaps from a deserted but in the village, formedthe walls, and a quantity of "cadjans, " or palm-leaf mats, covered inthe roof. On the third day my house was finished, and all my things putin and comfortably arranged to begin work, and I was quite pleased athaving got established so quickly and in such a nice situation. It had been so far fine weather, but in the night it rained hard, and wefound our mat roof would not keep out water. It first began to drop, and then to stream over everything. I had to get up in the middle of thenight to secure my insect-boxes, rice, and other perishable articles, and to find a dry place to sleep in, for my bed was soaked. Fresh leakskept forming as the rain continued, and w e all passed a very miserableand sleepless night. In the morning the sun shone brightly, andeverything was put out to dry. We tried to find out why the mats leaked, and thought we had discovered that they had been laid on upside down. Having shifted there all, and got everything dry and comfortable by theevening, we again went to bed, and before midnight were again awaked bytorrent of rain and leaks streaming in upon us as bad as ever. Therewas no more sleep for us that night, and the next day our roof was againtaken to pieces, and we came to the conclusion that the fault was a wantof slope enough in the roof for mats, although it would be sufficientfor the usual attap thatch. I therefore purchased a few new and some oldattaps, and in the parts these would not cover we put the mats double, and then at last had the satisfaction of finding our roof tolerablywater-tight. I was now able to begin working at the natural history of the island. When I first arrived I was surprised at being told that there were noParadise Birds at Muka, although there were plenty at Bessir, a placewhere the natives caught them and prepared the skins. I assured thepeople I had heard the cry of these birds close to the village, but theyworld not believe that I could know their cry. However, the very firsttime I went into the forest I not only heard but saw them, and wasconvinced there were plenty about; but they were very shy, and it wassome time before we got any. My hunter first shot a female, and I oneday got very close to a fine male. He was, as I expected, the rare redspecies, Paradisea rubra, which alone inhabits this island, and is foundnowhere else. He was quite low down, running along a bough searchingfor insects, almost like a woodpecker, and the long black riband-likefilaments in his tail hung down in the most graceful double curveimaginable. I covered him with my gun, and was going to use the barrelwhich had a very small charge of powder and number eight shot, so asnot to injure his plumage, but the gun missed fire, and he was off in aninstant among the thickest jungle. Another day we saw no less than eightfine males at different times, and fired four times at them; but thoughother birds at the same distance almost always dropped, these all gotaway, and I began to think we were not to get this magnificent species. At length the fruit ripened on the fig-tree close by my house, and manybirds came to feed on it; and one morning, as I was taking my coffee, amale Paradise Bird was seen to settle on its top. I seized my gun, ranunder the tree, and, gazing up, could see it flying across from branchto branch, seizing a fruit here and another there, and then, before Icould get a sufficient aim to shoot at such a height (for it was one ofthe loftiest trees of the tropics), it was away into the forest. Theynow visited the tree every morning; but they stayed so short a time, their motions were so rapid, and it was so difficult to see them, owingto the lower trees, which impeded the view, that it was only afterseveral days' watching, and one or two misses, that I brought down mybird--a male in the most magnificent plumage. This bird differs very much from the two large species which I hadalready obtained, and, although it wants the grace imparted by theirlong golden trains, is in many respects more remarkable and morebeautiful. The head, back, and shoulders are clothed with a richeryellow, the deep metallic green colour of the throat extends furtherover the head, and the feathers are elongated on the forehead into twolittle erectile crests. The side plumes are shorter, but are of arich red colour, terminating in delicate white points, and the middletail-feathers are represented by two long rigid glossy ribands, whichare black, thin, and semi-cylindrical, and droop gracefully in aspiral curve. Several other interesting birds were obtained, and abouthalf-a-dozen quite new ones; but none of any remarkable beauty, exceptthe lovely little dove, Ptilonopus pulchellus, which with severalother pigeons I shot on the same fig-tree close to my house. It is ofa beautiful green colour above, with a forehead of the richest crimson, while beneath it is ashy white and rich yellow, banded with violet red. On the evening of our arrival at Muka I observed what appeared like adisplay of Aurora Borealis, though I could hardly believe that this waspossible at a point a little south of the equator. The night was clearand calm, and the northern sky presented a diffused light, with aconstant succession of faint vertical flashings or flickerings, exactlysimilar to an ordinary aurora in England. The next day was fine, butafter that the weather was unprecedentedly bad, considering that itought to have been the dry monsoon. For near a month we had wet weather;the sun either not appearing at all, or only for an hour or two aboutnoon. Morning and evening, as well as nearly all night, it rained ordrizzled, and boisterous winds, with dark clouds, formed the dailyprogramme. With the exception that it was never cold, it was just suchweather as a very bad English November or February. The people of Waigiou are not truly indigenes of the island, whichpossesses no "Alfuros, " or aboriginal inhabitants. They appear to bea mixed race, partly from Gilolo, partly from New Guinea. Malays andAlfuros from the former island have probably settled here, and many ofthem have taken Papuan wives from Salwatty or Dorey, while the influx ofpeople from those places, and of slaves, has led to the formation of atribe exhibiting almost all the transitions from a nearly pure Malayanto an entirely Papuan type. The language spoken by them is entirelyPapuan, being that which is used on all the coasts of Mysol, Salwatty, the north-west of New Guinea, and the islands in the great GeelvinkBay, --a fact which indicates the way in which the coast settlements havebeen formed. The fact that so many of the islands between New Guinea andthe Moluccas--such as Waigiou, Guebe, Poppa, Obi, Batchian, as well asthe south and east peninsulas of Gilolo--possess no aboriginal tribes, but are inhabited by people who are evidently mongrels and wanderers, isa remarkable corroborative proof of the distinctness of the Malayan andPapuan races, and the separation of the geographical areas they inhabit. If these two great races were direct modifications, the one ofthe other, we should expect to find in the intervening region somehomogeneous indigenous race presenting intermediate characters. Forexample, between the whitest inhabitants of Europe and the black Klingsof South India, there are in the intervening districts homogeneous raceswhich form a gradual transition from one to the other; while in America, although there is a perfect transition from the Anglo-Saxon to thenegro, and from the Spaniard to the Indian, there is no homogeneousrace forming a natural transition from one to the other. In the MalayArchipelago we have an excellent example of two absolutely distinctraces, which appear to have approached each other, and intermingled inan unoccupied territory at a very recent epoch in the history of man;and I feel satisfied that no unprejudiced person could study them onthe spot without being convinced that this is the true solution of theproblem, rather than the almost universally accepted view that they arebut modifications of one and the same race. The people of Muka live in that abject state of poverty that is almostalways found where the sago-tree is abundant. Very few of them take thetrouble to plant any vegetables or fruit, but live almost entirely onsago and fish, selling a little tripang or tortoiseshell to buy thescanty clothing they require. Almost all of them, however, possess oneor more Papuan slaves, on whose labour they live in almost absoluteidleness, just going out on little fishing or trading excursions, as anexcitement in their monotonous existence. They are under the rule of theSultan of Tidore, and every year have to pay a small tribute of Paradisebirds, tortoiseshell, or sago. To obtain these, they go in the fineseason on a trading voyage to the mainland of New Guinea, and getting afew goods on credit from some Ceram or Bugis trader, make hard bargainswith the natives, and gain enough to pay their tribute, and leave alittle profit for themselves. Such a country is not a very pleasant one to live in, for as there areno superfluities, there is nothing to sell; and had it not been for atrader from Ceram who was residing there during my stay, who had a smallvegetable garden, and whose men occasionally got a few spare fish, Ishould often have had nothing to eat. Fowls, fruit, and vegetables areluxuries very rarely to be purchased at Muka; and even cocoa-nuts, soindispensable for eastern cookery, are not to be obtained; for thoughthere are some hundreds of trees in the village, all the fruit is eatengreen, to supply the place of the vegetables the people are too lazyto cultivate. Without eggs, cocoa-nuts, or plantains, we had very shortcommons, and the boisterous weather being unpropitious for fishing, wehad to live on what few eatable birds we could shoot, with an occasionalcuscus, or eastern opossum, the only quadruped, except pigs, inhabitingthe island. I had only shot two male Paradiseas on my tree when they ceased visitingit, either owing to the fruit becoming scarce, or that they were wiseenough to know there was danger. We continued to hear and see them inthe forest, but after a month had not succeeded in shooting any more;and as my chief object in visiting Waigiou was to get these birds, Idetermined to go to Bessir, where there are a number of Papuans whocatch and preserve them. I hired a small outrigger boat for thisjourney, and left one of my men to guard my house and goods. We hadto wait several days for fine weather, and at length started earlyone morning, and arrived late at night, after a rough and disagreeablepassage. The village of Bessir was built in the water at the point ofa small island. The chief food of the people was evidently shell-fish, since great heaps of the shells had accumulated in the shallow waterbetween the houses and the land, forming a regular "kitchen-midden" forthe exploration of some future archeologist. We spent the night in thechief's house, and the next morning went over to the mainland to lookout for a place where I could reside. This part of Waigiou is reallyanother island to the south of the narrow channel we had passed throughin coming to Muka. It appears to consist almost entirely of raisedcoral, whereas the northern island contains hard crystalline rocks. Theshores were a range of low limestone cliffs, worn out by the water, sothat the upper part generally overhung. At distant intervals were littlecoves and openings, where small streams came down from the interior; andin one of these we landed, pulling our boat up on a patch of white sandybeach. Immediately above was a large newly-made plantation of yams andplantains, and a small hot, which the chief said we might have the useof, if it would do for me. It was quite a dwarf's house, just eight feetsquare, raised on posts so that the floor was four and a half feet abovethe ground, and the highest part of the ridge only five feet above theflour. As I am six feet and an inch in my stockings, I looked at thiswith some dismay; but finding that the other houses were much furtherfrom water, were dreadfully dirty, and were crowded with people, I atonce accepted the little one, and determined to make the best of it. At first I thought of taking out the floor, which would leave it highenough to walk in and out without stooping; but then there would not beroom enough, so I left it just as it was, had it thoroughly cleaned out, and brought up my baggage. The upper story I used for sleeping in, andfor a store-room. In the lower part (which was quite open all round) Ifixed up a small table, arranged my boxes, put up hanging-shelves, laida mat on the ground with my wicker-chair upon it, hung up another mat onthe windward side, and then found that, by bending double and carefullycreeping in, I could sit on my chair with my head just clear of theceiling. Here I lived pretty comfortably for six weeks, taking all mymeals and doing all my work at my little table, to and from which I hadto creep in a semi-horizontal position a dozen times a day; and, aftera few severe knocks on the head by suddenly rising from my chair, learntto accommodate myself to circumstances. We put up a little slopingcooking-but outside, and a bench on which my lads could skin theirbirds. At night I went up to my little loft, they spread their mats onthe floor below, and we none of us grumbled at our lodgings. My first business was to send for the men who were accustomed to catchthe Birds of Paradise. Several came, and I showed them my hatchets, beads, knives, and handkerchiefs; and explained to them, as well as Icould by signs, the price I would give for fresh-killed specimens. It isthe universal custom to pay for everything in advance; but only one manventured on this occasion to take goods to the value of two birds. Therest were suspicious, and wanted to see the result of the first bargainwith the strange white man, the only one who had ever come to theirisland. After three days, my man brought me the first bird--a very finespecimen, and alive, but tied up in a small bag, and consequently itstail and wing feathers very much crushed and injured. I tried to explainto him, and to the others that came with him, that I wanted them asperfect as possible, and that they should either kill them, or keepthem on a perch with a string to their leg. As they were now apparentlysatisfied that all was fair, and that I had no ulterior designs uponthem, six others took away goods; some for one bird, some for more, andone for as many as six. They said they had to go a long way for them, and that they would come back as soon as they caught any. At intervalsof a few days or a week, some of them would return, bringing me one ormore birds; but though they did not bring any more in bags, there wasnot much improvement in their condition. As they caught them a long wayoff in the forest, they would scarcely ever come with one, but wouldtie it by the leg to a stick, and put it in their house till they caughtanother. The poor creature would make violent efforts to escape, wouldget among the ashes, or hang suspended by the leg till the limb wasswollen and half-putrefied, and sometimes die of starvation and worry. One had its beautiful head all defiled by pitch from a dammar torch;another had been so long dead that its stomach was turning green. Luckily, however, the skin and plumage of these birds is so firm andstrong, that they bear washing and cleaning better than almost any othersort; and I was generally able to clean them so well that they did notperceptibly differ from those I had shot myself. Some few were brought me the same day they were caught, and I had anopportunity of examining them in all their beauty and vivacity. As soonas I found they were generally brought alive, I set one of my men tomake a large bamboo cage with troughs for food and water, hoping to beable to keep some of them. I got the natives to bring me branches ofa fruit they were very fond of, and I was pleased to find they ate itgreedily, and would also take any number of live grasshoppers I gavethem, stripping off the legs and wings, and then swallowing them. Theydrank plenty of water, and were in constant motion, jumping about thecage from perch to perch, clinging on the top and sides, and rarelyresting a moment the first day till nightfall. The second day they werealways less active, although they would eat as freely as before; and onthe morning of the third day they were almost always found dead at thebottom of the cage, without any apparent cause. Some of them ate boiledrice as well as fruit and insects; but after trying many in succession, not one out of ten lived more than three days. The second or thirdday they would be dull, and in several cases they were seized withconvulsions, and fell off the perch, dying a few hours afterwards. I tried immature as well as full-plumaged birds, but with no bettersuccess, and at length gave it up as a hopeless task, and confined myattention to preserving specimens in as good a condition as possible. The Red Birds of Paradise are not shot with blunt arrows, as in the AruIslands and some parts of New Guinea, but are snared in a very ingeniousmanner. A large climbing Arum bears a red reticulated fruit, of whichthe birds are very fond. The hunters fasten this fruit on a stout forkedstick, and provide themselves with a fine but strong cord. They thenseep out some tree in the forest on which these birds are accustomed toperch, and climbing up it fasten the stick to a branch and arrange thecord in a noose so ingeniously, that when the bird comes to eat thefruit its legs are caught, and by pulling the end of the cord, whichhangs down to the ground, it comes free from the branch and brings downthe bird. Sometimes, when food is abundant elsewhere, the hunter sitsfrom morning till night under his tree with the cord in his hand, andeven for two or three whole days in succession, without even getting abite; while, on the other hand, if very lucky, he may get two or threebirds in a day. There are only eight or ten men at Bessir who practisethis art, which is unknown anywhere else in the island. I determined, therefore, to stay as long as possible, as my only chance of getting agood series of specimens; and although I was nearly starved, everythingeatable by civilized man being scarce or altogether absent, I finallysucceeded. The vegetables and fruit in the plantations around us did not sufficefor the wants of the inhabitants, and were almost always dug up orgathered before they were ripe. It was very rarely we could purchasea little fish; fowls there were none; and we were reduced to live upontough pigeons and cockatoos, with our rice and sago, and sometimes wecould not get these. Having been already eight months on this voyage, mystock of all condiments, spices and butter, was exhausted, and I foundit impossible to eat sufficient of my tasteless and unpalatable foodto support health. I got very thin and weak, and had a curious diseaseknown (I have since heard) as brow-ague. Directly after breakfast everymorning an intense pain set in on a small spot on the right temple. Itwas a severe burning ache, as bad as the worst toothache, and lastedabout two hours, generally going off at noon. When this finally ceased, I had an attack of fever, which left me so weak and so unable to eat ourregular food, that I feel sure my life was saved by a couple of tins ofsoup which I had long reserved for some such extremity. I used often togo out searching after vegetables, and found a great treasure in a lotof tomato plants run wild, and bearing little fruits about the size ofgooseberries. I also boiled up the tops of pumpkin plants and of ferns, by way of greens, and occasionally got a few green papaws. The natives, when hard up for food, live upon a fleshy seaweed, which they boil tillit is tender. I tried this also, but found it too salt and bitter to beendured. Towards the end of September it became absolutely necessary for me toreturn, in order to make our homeward voyage before the end of the eastmonsoon. Most of the men who had taken payment from me had brought thebirds they had agreed for. One poor fellow had been so unfortunateas not to get one, and he very honestly brought back the axe he hadreceived in advance; another, who had agreed for six, brought me thefifth two days before I was to start, and went off immediately to theforest again to get the other. He did not return, however, and we loadedour boat, and were just on the point of starting, when he came runningdown after us holding up a bird, which he handed to me, saying withgreat satisfaction, "Now I owe you nothing. " These were remarkable andquite unexpected instances of honesty among savages, where it would havebeen very easy for them to have been dishonest without fear of detectionor punishment. The country round about Bessir was very hilly and rugged, bristling withjagged and honey-combed coralline rocks, and with curious little chasmsand ravines. The paths often passed through these rocky clefts, which inthe depths of the forest were gloomy and dark in the extreme, andoften full of fine-leaved herbaceous plants and curious blue-foliagedLycopodiaceae. It was in such places as these that I obtained many ofmy most beautiful small butterflies, such as Sospita statira and Taxilapulchra, the gorgeous blue Amblypodia hercules, and many others. On theskirts of the plantations I found the handsome blue Deudorix despoena, and in the shady woods the lovely Lycaena wallacei. Here, too, Iobtained the beautiful Thyca aruna, of the richest orange on the upperside; while below it is intense crimson and glossy black; and a superbspecimen of a green Ornithoptera, absolutely fresh and perfect, andwhich still remains one of the glories of my cabinet. My collection of birds, though not very rich in number of species, wasyet very interesting. I got another specimen of the rare New Guineakite (Henicopernis longicauda), a large new goatsucker (Podargussuperciliaris), and a most curious ground-pigeon of an entirely newgenus, and remarkable for its long and powerful bill. It has been namedHenicophaps albifrons. I was also much pleased to obtain a fine seriesof a large fruit-pigeon with a protuberance on the bill (Carpophagatumida), and to ascertain that this was not, as had been hithertosupposed, a sexual character, but was found equally in male and femalebirds. I collected only seventy-three species of birds in Waigiou, buttwelve of them were entirely new, and many others very rare; and as Ibrought away with me twenty-four fine specimens of the Paradisea rubra, I did not regret my visit to the island, although it had by no meansanswered my expectations. CHAPTER XXXVII. VOYAGE FROM WAIGIOU TO TERNATE. (SEPTEMBER 29 To NOVEMBER 5, 1860. ) I HAD left the old pilot at Waigiou to take care of my house and to getthe prau into sailing order--to caulk her bottom, and to look afterthe upper works, thatch, and ringing. When I returned I found it nearlyready, and immediately began packing up and preparing for the voyage. Our mainsail had formed one side of our house, but the spanker and jibhad been put away in the roof, and on opening them to see if any repairswere wanted, to our horror we found that some rats had made them theirnest, and had gnawed through them in twenty places. We had thereforeto buy matting and make new sails, and this delayed us till the 29th ofSeptember, when we at length left Waigiou. It took us four days before we could get clear of the land, havingto pass along narrow straits beset with reefs and shoals, and full ofstrong currents, so that an unfavourable wind stopped us altogether. Oneday, when nearly clear, a contrary tide and head wind drove us ten milesback to our anchorage of the night before. This delay made us afraid ofrunning short of water if we should be becalmed at sea, and we thereforedetermined, if possible, to touch at the island where our men hadbeen lost, and which lay directly in our proper course. The wind was, however, as usual, contrary, being S. S. W. Instead of S. S. E. , as itshould have been at this time of the year, and all we could do was toreach the island of Gagie, where we came to an anchor by moonlight underbare volcanic hills. In the morning we tried to enter a deep bay, atthe head of which some Galela fishermen told us there was water, but ahead-wind prevented us. For the reward of a handkerchief, however, they took us to the place in their boat, and we filled up our jars andbamboos. We then went round to their camping-place on the north coastof the island to try and buy something to eat, but could only get smokedturtle meat as black and as hard as lumps of coal. A little further onthere was a plantation belonging to Guebe people, but under the careof a Papuan slave, and the next morning we got some plantains and a fewvegetables in exchange for a handkerchief and some knives. On leavingthis place our anchor had got foul in some rock or sunken log in verydeep water, and after many unsuccessful attempts, we were forced tocut our rattan cable and leave it behind us. We had now only one anchorleft. Starting early, on the 4th of October, the same S. S. W wind continued, and we began to fear that we should hardly clear the southern pointof Gilolo. The night of the 5th was squally, with thunder, but aftermidnight it got tolerably fair, and we were going along with a lightwind and looking out for the coast of Gilolo, which we thought wemust be nearing, when we heard a dull roaring sound, like a heavy surf, behind us. In a short time the roar increased, and we saw a white lineof foam coming on, which rapidly passed us without doing any harm, asour boat rose easily over the wave. At short intervals, ten or adozen others overtook us with bleat rapidity, and then the sea becameperfectly smooth, as it was before. I concluded at once that these mustbe earthquake waves; and on reference to the old voyagers we findthat these seas have been long subject to similar phenomena. Dampierencountered them near Mysol and New Guinea, and describes them asfollows: "We found here very strange tides, that ran in streams, makinga great sea, and roaring so loud that we could hear them before theycame within a mile of us. The sea round about them seemed all broken, and tossed the ship so that she would not answer her helm. Theseripplings commonly lasted ten or twelve minutes, and then the sea becameas still and smooth as a millpond. We sounded often when in the midst ofthem, but found no ground, neither could we perceive that they drove usany way. We had in one night several of these tides, that came mostlyfrom the west, and the wind being from that quarter we commonly heardthem a long time before they came, and sometimes lowered our topsails, thinking it was a gust of wind. They were of great length, from north tosouth, but their breadth not exceeding 200 yards, and they drove a greatpace. For though we had little wind to move us, yet these worldsoon pass away, and leave the water very smooth, and just before weencountered them we met a great swell, but it did not break. " Some timeafterwards, I learnt that an earthquake had been felt on the coast ofGilolo the very day we had encountered these curious waves. When daylight came, we saw the land of Gilolo a few miles off, but thepoint was unfortunately a little to windward of us. We tried to brace upall we could to round it, but as we approached the shore we got into astrong current setting northward, which carried us so rapidly with itthat we found it necessary to stand off again, in order to get out ofits influence. Sometimes we approached the point a little, and our hopesrevived; then the wind fell, and we drifted slowly away. Night foundus in nearly the same position as we had occupied in the morning, sowe hung down our anchor with about fifteen fathoms of cable to preventdrifting. On the morning of the 7th we were however, a good way upthe coast, and we now thought our only chance would be to got closein-shore, where there might be a return current, and we could then row. The prau was heavy, and my men very poor creatures for work, so that ittook us six hours to get to the edge of the reef that fringed the shore;and as the wind might at any moment blow on to it, our situation was avery dangerous one. Luckily, a short distance off there was a sandy bay, where a small stream stopped the growth of the coral; and by evening wereached this and anchored for the night. Here we found some Galela menshooting deer and pigs; but they could not or would not speak Malay, andwe could get little information from them. We found out that along shorethe current changed with the tide, while about a mile out it was alwaysone way, and against us; and this gave us some hopes of getting back tothe point, from which we were now distant twenty miles. Next morning wefound that the Galela men had left before daylight, having perhaps somevague fear of our intentions, anal very likely taking me for a pirate. During the morning a boat passed, and the people informed us that, ata short distance further towards the point, there was a much betterharbour, where there were plenty of Galela men, from whom we, mightprobably get some assistance. At three in the afternoon, when the current turned, we started; buthaving a head-wind, made slow progress. At dusk we reached the entranceof the harbour, but an eddy and a gust of wind carried us away and outto sea. After sunset there was a land breeze, and we sailed a little tothe south-east. It then became calm, and we hung down our anchor fortyfathoms, to endeavour to counteract the current; but it was of littleavail, and in the morning we found ourselves a good way from shore, andjust opposite our anchorage of the day before, which we again reached byhard rowing. I gave the men this day to rest and sleep; and the next day(Oct. 10th) we again started at two in the morning with a land breeze. After I had set them to their oars, and given instructions to keepclose in-shore, and on no account to get out to sea, I went below, beingrather unwell. At daybreak I found, to my great astonishment, thatwe were again far off-shore, and was told that the wind had graduallyturned more ahead, and had carried us out--none of them having the senseto take down the sail and row in-shore, or to call me. As soon as it wasdaylight, we saw that we had drifted back, and were again opposite ourformer anchorage, and, for the third time, had to row hard to get to it. As we approached the shore, I saw that the current was favourable to us, and we continued down the coast till we were close to the entrance tothe lower harbour. Just as we were congratulating ourselves on having atlast reached it, a strong south-east squall came on, blowing us back, and rendering it impossible for us to enter. Not liking the idea ofagain returning, I determined on trying to anchor, and succeeded indoing so, in very deep water and close to the reefs; but the prevailingwinds were such that, should we not hold, we should have no difficultyin getting out to sea. By the time the squall had passed, the currenthad turned against us, and we expected to have to wait till four in theafternoon, when we intended to enter the harbour. Now, however, came the climax of our troubles. The swell produced by thesquall made us jerk our cable a good deal, and it suddenly snappedlow down in the water. We drifted out to sea, and immediately set ourmainsail, but we were now without any anchor, and in a vessel so poorlymanned that it could not be rowed against the most feeble current or theslightest wind, it word be madness to approach these dangerous shoresexcept in the most perfect calm. We had also only three days' food left. It was therefore out of the question making any further attempts to getround the point without assistance, and I at once determined to runto the village of Gani-diluar, about ten miles further north, where weunderstood there was a good harbour, and where we might get provisionsand a few more rowers. Hitherto winds and currents load invariablyopposed our passage southward, and we might have expected them tobe favourable to us now we had turned our bowsprit in an oppositedirection. But it immediately fell calm, and then after a time awesterly land breeze set in, which would not serve us, and we had torow again for hours, and when night came had not reached the village. Wewere so fortunate, however, as to find a deep sheltered cove where thewater was quite smooth, and we constructed a temporary anchor by fillinga sack with stones from our ballast, which being well secured by anetwork of rattans held us safely during the night. The next morningmy men went on shore to cut wood suitable for making fresh anchors, and about noon, the current turning in our favour, we proceeded to thevillage, where we found an excellent and well-protected anchorage. On inquiry, we found that the head men resided at the other Gani on thewestern side of the peninsula, and it was necessary to send messengersacross (about half a day's journey) to inform them of my arrival, andto beg them to assist me. I then succeeded in buying a little sago, somedried deer-meat and cocoa-nuts, which at once relieved our immediatewant of something to eat. At night we found our bag of atones still heldus very well, and we slept tranquilly. The next day (October 12th), my men set to work making anchors and oars. The native Malay anchor is ingeniously constructed of a piece of toughforked timber, the fluke being strengthened by twisted rattans bindingit to the stem, while the cross-piece is formed of a long flatstone, secured in the same manner. These anchors when well made, holdexceedingly arm, and, owing to the expense of iron, are still almostuniversally used on board the smaller praus. In the afternoon the headmen arrived, and promised me as many rowers as I could put on theprau, and also brought me a few eggs and a little rice, which were veryacceptable. On the 14th there was a north wind all day, which wouldhave been invaluable to us a few days earlier, but which was now onlytantalizing. On the 16th, all being ready, we started at daybreak withtwo new anchors and ten rowers, who understood their work. By evening wehad come more than half-way to the point, and anchored for the night ina small bay. At three the next morning I ordered the anchor up, but therattan cable parted close to the bottom, having been chafed by rocks, and we then lost our third anchor on this unfortunate voyage. The daywas calm, and by noon we passed the southern point of Gilolo, which haddelayed us eleven days, whereas the whole voyage during this monsoonshould not have occupied more than half that time. Having got round thepoint our course was exactly in the opposite direction to what it hadbeen, and now, as usual, the wind changed accordingly, coming from thenorth and north-west, --so that we still had to row every mile up to thevillage of Gani, which we did not reach till the evening of the 18th. ABugis trader who was residing there, and the Senaji, or chief, werevery kind; the former assisting me with a spare anchor and a cable, andmaking me a present of some vegetables, and the latter baking fresh sagocakes for my men; and giving rue a couple of fowls, a bottle of oil, andsome pumpkins. As the weather was still very uncertain, I got fourextra men to accompany me to Ternate, for which place we started on theafternoon of the 20th. We had to keep rowing all night, the land breezes being too weak toenable us to sail against the current. During the afternoon of the 21stwe had an hour's fair wind, which soon changed into a heavy squall withrain, and my clumsy men let the mainsail get taken aback and nearlyupset us, tearing the sail; and, what was worse, losing an hour's fairwind. The night was calm, and we made little progress. On the 22d we had light head-winds. A little before noon we passed, withthe assistance of our oars, the Paciencia Straits, the narrowest partof the channel between Batchian and Gilolo. These were well named by theearly Portuguese navigators, as the currents are very strong, and thereare so many eddies, that even with a fair wind vessels are often quiteunable to pass through them. In the afternoon a strong north wind (deadahead) obliged us to anchor twice. At nigh it was calm, and we creptalong slowly with our oars. On the 23d we still had the wind ahead, or calms. We then crossed overagain to the mainland of Gilolo by the advice of our Gani men, who knewthe coast well. Just as we got across we had another northerly squallwith rain, and had to anchor on the edge of a coral reef for the night. I called up my men about three on the morning of the 24th, but there wasno wind to help us, and we rowed along slowly. At daybreak there was afair breeze from the south, but it lasted only an hour. All the rest ofthe day we had nothing but calms, light winds ahead, and squalls, andmade very little progress. On the 25th we drifted out to the middle of the channel, but made noprogress onward. In the afternoon we sailed and rowed to the south endof Kaióa, and by midnight reached the village. I determined to stay herea few days to rest and recruit, and in hopes of getting better weather. I bought some onions and other vegetables, and plenty of eggs, and mymen baked fresh sago cakes. I went daily to my old hunting-ground insearch of insects, but with very poor success. It was now wet, squallyweather, and there appeared a stagnation of insect life. We Staved fivedays, during which time twelve persons died in the village, mostly fromsimple intermittent fever, of the treatment of which the natives arequite ignorant. During the whole of this voyage I had suffered greatlyfrom sunburnt lips, owing to having exposed myself on deck all day toloon after our safety among the shoals and reefs near Waigiou. Thesalt in the air so affected them that they would not heal, but becameexcessively painful, and bled at the slightest touch, and for a longtime it was with great difficulty I could eat at all, being obligedto open my mouth very wide, and put in each mouthful with the greatestcaution. I kept them constantly covered with ointment, which was itselfvery disagreeable, and they caused me almost constant pain for more thana month, as they did not get well till I had returned to Ternate, andwas able to remain a week indoors. A boat which left for Ternate, the day after we arrived, was obliged toreturn the next day, on account of bad weather. On the 31st we went outto the anchorage at the mouth of the harbour, so as to be ready to startat the first favourable opportunity. On the 1st of November I called up my men at one in the morning, and westarted with the tide in our favour. Hitherto it had usually been calmat night, but on this occasion we had a strong westerly squall withrain, which turned our prau broadside, and obliged us to anchor. When ithad passed we went on rowing all night, but the wind ahead counteractedthe current in our favour, and we advanced but little. Soon aftersunrise the wind became stronger and more adverse, and as we had adangerous lee-shore which we could not clear, we had to put aboutand get an offing to the W. S. W. This series of contrary winds and badweather ever since we started, not having had a single day of fair wind, was very remarkable. My men firmly believed there was something unluckyin the boat, and told me I ought to have had a certain ceremony gonethrough before starting, consisting of boring a hole in the bottom andpouring some kind of holy oil through it. It must be remembered thatthis was the season of the south-east monsoon, and yet we had not hadeven half a day's south-east wind since we left Waigiou. Contrary winds, squalls, and currents drifted us about the rest of the day at theirpleasure. The night was equally squally and changeable, and kept us hardat work taking in and making sail, and rowing in the intervals. Sunrise on the 2d found us in the middle of the ten-mile channel betweenKaióa and Makian. Squalls and showers succeeded each other during themorning. At noon there was a dead calm, after which a light westerlybreeze enabled us to reach a village on Makian in the evening. Here Ibought some pumelos (Citrus decumana), kanary-nuts, and coffee, and letmy men have a night's sleep. The morning of the 3d was fine, and we rowed slowly along the coast ofMakian. The captain of a small prau at anchor, seeing me on deck andguessing who I was, made signals for us to stop, and brought me a letterfrom Charles Allen, who informed me he had been at Ternate twenty days, and was anxiously waiting my arrival. This was good news, as I wasequally anxious about him, and it cheered up my spirits. A lightsoutherly wind now sprung up, and we thought we were going to have fineweather. It soon changed, however, to its old quarter, the west; denseclouds gathered over the sky, and in less than half an hour we had theseverest squall we had experienced during our whole voyage. Luckily wegot our great mainsail down in time, or the consequences might have beenserious. It was a regular little hurricane, and my old Bugis steersmanbegan shouting out to "Allah! il Allah!" to preserve us. We could onlykeep up our jib, which was almost blown to rags, but by careful handlingit kept us before the wind, and the prau behaved very well. Our smallboat (purchased at Gani) was towing astern, and soon got full of water, so that it broke away and we saw no more of it. In about an hour thefury of the wind abated a little, and in two more we were able to hoistour mainsail, reefed and half-mast high. Towards evening it cleared upand fell calm, and the sea, which had been rather high, soon went down. Not being much of a seaman myself I had been considerably alarmed, andeven the old steersman assured me he had never been in a worse squallall his life. He was now more than ever confirmed in his opinion of theunluckiness of the boat, and in the efficiency of the holy oil which allBugis praus had poured through their bottoms. As it was, he imputedour safety and the quick termination of the squall entirely to his ownprayers, saying with a laugh, "Yes, that's the way we always do on boardour praus; when things are at the worst we stand up and shout out ourprayers as loud as we can, and then Tuwan Allah helps us. " After this it took us two days more to reach Ternate, having our usualcalms, squalls, and head-winds to the very last; and once having toreturn back to our anchorage owing to violent gusts of wind just as wewere close to the town. Looking at my whole voyage in this vessel fromthe time when I left Goram in May, it will appear that rely experiencesof travel in a native prau have not been encouraging. My first crewran away; two men were lost for a month on a desert island; we wereten times aground on coral reefs; we lost four anchors; the sails weredevoured by rats; the small boat was lost astern; we were thirty-eightdays on the voyage home, which should not have taken twelve; we weremany times short of food and water; we had no compass-lamp, owing tothere not being a drop of oil in Waigiou when we left; and to crown all, during the whole of our voyages from Goram by Ceram to Waigiou, and fromWaigiou to Ternate, occupying in all seventy-eight days, or onlytwelve days short of three months (all in what was supposed to be thefavourable season), we had not one single day of fair wind. We werealways close braced up, always struggling against wind, tide, andleeway, and in a vessel that would scarcely sail nearer than eightpoints from the wind. Every seaman will admit that my first voyage in myown boat was a most unlucky one. Charles Allen had obtained a tolerable collection of birds and insectsat Mysol, but far less than he would have done if I had not been sounfortunate as to miss visiting him. After waiting another week or twotill he was nearly starved, he returned to Wahai in Ceram, and heard, much to his surprise, that I had left a fortnight before. He was delayedthere more than a month before he could get back to the north side ofMysol, which he found a much better locality, but it was not yet theseason for the Paradise Birds; and before he had obtained more than afew of the common sort, the last prau was ready to leave for Ternate, and he was obliged to take the opportunity, as he expected I would bewaiting there for him. This concludes the record of my wanderings. I next went to Timor, andafterwards to Bourn, Java, and Sumatra, which places have already beendescribed. Charles Allen made a voyage to New Guinea, a short account ofwhich will be given in my next chapter on the Birds of Paradise. Onhis return he went to the Sula Islands, and made a very interestingcollection which served to determine the limits of the zoological groupof Celebes, as already explained in my chapter on the natural history ofthat island. His next journey was to Flores and Solor, where he obtainedsome valuable materials, which I have used in my chapter on the naturalhistory of the Timor group. He afterwards went to Coti on the east coastof Borneo, from which place I was very anxious to obtain collections, as it is a quite new locality as far as possible from Sarawak, and Ihad heard very good accounts of it. On his return thence to Sourabaya inJava, he was to have gone to the entirely unknown Sumba or Sandal-woodIsland. Most unfortunately, however, he was seized with a terrible feveron his arrival at Coti, and, after lying there some weeks, was taken toSingapore in a very bad condition, where he arrived after I had left forEngland. When he recovered he obtained employment in Singapore, and Ilost his services as a collector. The three concluding chapters of my work will treat of the birds ofParadise, the Natural History of the Papuan Islands, and the Races ofMan in the Malay Archipelago. CHAPTER XXXVIII. THE BIRDS OF PARADISE. AS many of my journeys were made with the express object of obtainingspecimens of the Birds of Paradise, and learning something of theirhabits and distribution; and being (as far as I am aware) the onlyEnglishman who has seen these wonderful birds in their native forests, and obtained specimens of many of them, I propose to give here, in aconnected form, the result of my observations and inquiries. When the earliest European voyagers reached the Moluccas in search ofcloves and nutmegs, which were then rare and precious spices, they werepresented with the dried shins of birds so strange and beautiful as toexcite the admiration even of those wealth-seeking rovers. The Malaytraders gave them the name of "Manuk dewata, " or God's birds; and thePortuguese, finding that they had no feet or wings, and not being ableto learn anything authentic about then, called them "Passaros de Col, "or Birds of the Sun; while the learned Dutchmen, who wrote in Latin, called them "Avis paradiseus, " or Paradise Bird. John van Linschotengives these names in 1598, and tells us that no one has seen these birdsalive, for they live in the air, always turning towards the sun, andnever lighting on the earth till they die; for they have neither feetnor wings, as, he adds, may be seen by the birds carried to India, andsometimes to Holland, but being very costly they were then rarely seenin Europe. More than a hundred years later Mr. William Funnel, whoaccompanied Dampier, and wrote an account of the voyage, saw specimensat Amboyna, and was told that they came to Banda to eat nutmegs, whichintoxicated them and made them fall down senseless, when they werekilled by ants. Down to 1760, when Linnaeus named the largest species, Paradisea apoda (the footless Paradise Bird), no perfect specimen hadbeen seen in Europe, and absolutely nothing was known about them. Andeven now, a hundred years later, most books state that they migrateannually to Ternate, Banda, and Amboyna; whereas the fact is, that theyare as completely unknown in those islands in a wild state as they arein England. Linnaeus was also acquainted with a small species, which henamed Paradisea regia (the King Bird of Paradise), and since then nineor ten others have been named, all of which were first described fromskins preserved by the savages of New Guinea, and generally more or lessimperfect. These are now all known in the Malay Archipelago as "Burongcoati, " or dead birds, indicating that the Malay traders never saw themalive. The Paradiseidae are a group of moderate-sized birds, allied intheir structure and habits to crows, starlings, and to the Australianhoneysuckers; but they are characterised by extraordinary developmentsof plumage, which are unequalled in any other family of birds. Inseveral species large tufts of delicate bright-coloured feathers springfrom each side of the body beneath the wings, forming trains, or fans, or shields; and the middle feathers of the tail are often elongated intowires, twisted into fantastic shapes, or adorned with the most brilliantmetallic tints. In another set of species these accessory plumes springfrom the head, the back, or the shoulders; while the intensity of colourand of metallic lustre displayed by their plumage, is not to be equalledby any other birds, except, perhaps, the humming-birds, and is notsurpassed even by these. They have been usually classified undertwo distinct families, Paradiseidae and Epimachidae, the lattercharacterised by long and slender beaks, and supposed to be allied tothe Hoopoes; but the two groups are so closely allied in every essentialpoint of structure and habits, that I shall consider them as formingsubdivisions of one family. I will now give a short description of eachof the known species, and then add some general remarks on their naturalhistory. The Great Bird of Paradise (Paradisea apoda of Linnaeus) is the largestspecies known, being generally seventeen or eighteen inches from thebeak to the tip of the tail. The body, wings, and tail are of a richcoffee-brown, which deepens on the breast to a blackish-violet orpurple-brown. The whole top of the head and neck is of an exceedinglydelicate straw-yellow, the feathers being short and close set, so asto resemble plush or velvet; the lower part of the throat up to the eyeclothed with scaly feathers of an emerald, green colour, and with a richmetallic gloss, and velvety plumes of a still deeper green extend ina band across the forehead and chin as far as the eye, which is brightyellow. The beak is pale lead blue; and the feet, which are rather largeand very strong and well formed, are of a pale ashy-pink. The two middlefeathers of the tail have no webs, except a very small one at the baseand at the extreme tip, forming wire-like cirrhi, which spread out inan elegant double curve, and vary from twenty-four to thirty-four incheslong. From each side of the body, beneath the wings, springs a densetuft of long and delicate plumes, sometimes two feet in length, of themost intense golden-orange colour and very glossy, but changing towardsthe tips into a pale brown. This tuft of plumage cam be elevated andspread out at pleasure, so as almost to conceal the body of the bird. These splendid ornaments are entirely confined to the male sex, whilethe female is really a very plain and ordinary-looking bird of a uniformcoffee-brown colour which never changes, neither does she possess thelong tail wires, nor a single yellow or green feather about the dead. The young males of the first year exactly resemble the females, so thatthey can only be distinguished by dissection. The first change is theacquisition of the yellow and green colour on the head and throat, andat the same time the two middle tail feathers grow a few inches longerthan the rest, but remain webbed on both sides. At a later period thesefeathers are replaced by the long bare shafts of the full length, asin the adult bird; but there is still no sign of the magnificent orangeside-plumes, which later still complete the attire of the perfectmale. To effect these changes there must be at least three successivemoultings; and as the birds were found by me in all the stages about thesame time, it is probable that they moult only once a year, and thatthe full plumage is not acquired till the bird is four years old. Itwas long thought that the fine train of feathers was assumed for a shorttime only at the breeding season, but my own experience, as well as theobservation of birds of an allied species which I brought home withme, and which lived two years in this country, show that the completeplumage is retained during the whole year, except during a short periodof moulting as with most other birds. The Great Bird of Paradise is very active and vigorous and seems to bein constant motion all day long. It is very abundant, small flocksof females and young male being constantly met with; and though thefull-plumaged birds are less plentiful, their loud cries, which areheard daily, show that they also are very numerous. Their note is, "Wawk-wawk-wawk-Wok-wok-wok, " and is so loud and shrill as to be heard agreat distance, and to form the most prominent and characteristic animalsound in the Aru Islands. The mode of nidification is unknown; but thenatives told me that the nest was formed of leaves placed on an ant'snest, or on some projecting limb of a very lofty tree, and they believethat it contains only one young bird. The egg is quite unknown, and thenatives declared they had never seen it; and a very high reward offeredfor one by a Dutch official did not meet with success. They moult aboutJanuary or February, and in May, when they are in full plumage, themales assemble early in the morning to exhibit themselves in thesingular manner already described at p. 252. This habit enables thenatives to obtain specimens with comparative ease. As soon as they findthat the birds have fled upon a tree on which to assemble, they build alittle shelter of palm leaves in a convenient place among the branches, and the hunter ensconces himself in it before daylight, armed with hisbow and a number of arrows terminating in a round knob. A boy waitsat the foot of the tree, and when the birds come at sunrise, and asufficient number have assembled, and have begun to dance, the huntershoots with his blunt arrow so strongly as to stun the bird, which dropsdown, and is secured and killed by the boy without its plumage beinginjured by a drop of blood. The rest take no notice, and fall one afteranother till some of them take the alarm. (See Frontispiece. ) The native mode of preserving them is to cut off the wings and feet, andthen skin the body up to the beak, taking out the skull. A stout stickis then run up through the specimen coming out at the mouth. Round thissome leaves are stuffed, and the whole is wrapped up in a palm spatheand dried in the smoky hut. By this plan the head, which is reallylarge, is shrunk up almost to nothing, the body is much reduced andshortened, and the greatest prominence is given to the flowing plumage. Some of these native skins are very clean, and often have wings and feetleft on; others are dreadfully stained with smoke, and all hive a mosterroneous idea of the proportions of the living bird. The Paradisea apoda, as far as we have any certain knowledge, isconfined to the mainland of the Aru Islands, never being found in thesmaller islands which surround the central mass. It is certainly notfound in any of the parts of New Guinea visited by the Malay and Bugistraders, nor in any of the other islands where Birds of Paradise areobtained. But this is by no means conclusive evidence, for it is only incertain localities that the natives prepare skins, and in other placesthe same birds may be abundant without ever becoming known. It istherefore quite possible that this species may inhabit the greatsouthern mass of New Guinea, from which Aru has been separated;while its near ally, which I shall next describe, is confined to thenorth-western peninsula. The Lesser Bird of Paradise (Paradisea papuana of Bechstein), "Le petitEmeraude" of French authors, is a much smaller bird than the preceding, although very similar to it. It differs in its lighter brown colour, notbecoming darker or purpled on the breast; in the extension of the yellowcolour all over the upper part of the back and on the wing coverts;in the lighter yellow of the side plumes, which have only a tinge oforange, and at the tips are nearly pure white; and in the comparativeshortness of the tail cirrhi. The female differs remarkably frontthe same sex in Paradisea apoda, by being entirely white on the undersurface of the body, and is thus a much handsomer bird. The young malesare similarly coloured, and as they grow older they change to brown, and go through the same stages in acquiring the perfect plumage as hasalready been described in the allied species. It is this bird which ismost commonly used in ladies' head-dresses in this country, and alsoforms an important article of commerce in the East. The Paradisea papuana has a comparatively wide range, being the commonspecies on the mainland of New Guinea, as well as on the islands ofMysol, Salwatty, Jobie, Biak and Sook. On the south coast of NewGuinea, the Dutch naturalist, Muller, found it at the Oetanata river inlongitude 136° E. I obtained it myself at Dorey; and the captain of theDutch steamer Etna informed me that he had seen the feathers among thenatives of Humboldt Bay, in 141° E. Longitude. It is very probable, therefore, that it ranges over the whole of the mainland of New Guinea. The true Paradise Birds are omnivorous, feeding on fruits andinsects--of the former preferring the small figs; of the latter, grasshoppers, locusts, and phasmas, as well as cockroaches andcaterpillars. When I returned home, in 1862, I was so fortunate as tofind two adult males of this species in Singapore; and as they seemedhealthy, and fed voraciously on rice, bananas, and cockroaches, Idetermined on giving the very high price asked for them--Ł100. --and tobring them to England by the overland route under my own care. On my wayhome I stayed a week at Bombay, to break the journey, and to lay in afresh stock of bananas for my birds. I had great difficulty, however, in supplying them with insect food, for in the Peninsular and Orientalsteamers cockroaches were scarce, and it was only by setting traps inthe store-rooms, and by hunting an hour every night in the forecastle, that I could secure a few dozen of these creatures, --scarcely enoughfor a single meal. At Malta, where I stayed a fortnight, I got plentyof cockroaches from a bake-house, and when I left, took with me severalbiscuit-tins' full, as provision for the voyage home. We came throughthe Mediterranean in March, with a very cold wind; and the only place onboard the mail-steamer where their large cage could be accommodated wasexposed to a strong current of air down a hatchway which stood open dayand night, yet the birds never seemed to feel the cold. During the nightjourney from Marseilles to Paris it was a sharp frost; yet they arrivedin London in perfect health, and lived in the Zoological Gardens forone, and two years, often displaying their beautiful plumes to theadmiration of the spectators. It is evident, therefore, that theParadise Birds are very hardy, and require air and exercise ratherthan heat; and I feel sure that if a good sized conservators` couldbe devoted to them, or if they could be turned loose in the tropicaldepartment of the Crystal Palace or the Great Palm House at Kew, theywould live in this country for many years. The Red Bird of Paradise (Paradisea rubra of Viellot), though allied tothe two birds already described, is much more distinct from them thanthey are from each other. It is about the same size as Paradisea papuana(13 to 14 inches long), but differs from it in many particulars. Theside plumes, instead of being yellow, are rich crimson, and only extendabout three or four inches beyond the end of the tail; they are somewhatrigid, and the ends are curved downwards and inwards, and are tippedwith white. The two middle tail feathers, instead of being simplyelongated and deprived of their webs, are transformed into stiff blackribands, a quarter of an inch wide, but curved like a split quill, andresembling thin half cylinders of horn or whalebone. When a dead birdis laid on its back, it is seen that these ribands take a curve or set, which brings them round so as to meet in a double circle on the neckof the bird; but when they hang downwards, during life, they assume aspiral twist, and form an exceedingly graceful double curve. They areabout twenty-two inches long, and always attract attention as the mostconspicuous and extraordinary feature of the species. The rich metallicgreen colour of the throat extends over the front half of the head tobehind the eyes, and on the forehead forms a little double crest ofscaly feathers, which adds much to the vivacity of the bird's aspect. The bill is gamboge yellow, and the iris blackish olive. (Figure at p. 353. ) The female of this species is of a tolerably uniform coffee-browncolour, but has a blackish head, and the nape neck, and shouldersyellow, indicating the position of the brighter colours of the male. Thechanges of plumage follow the same order of succession as in the otherspecies, the bright colours of the head and neck being first developed, then the lengthened filaments of the tail, and last of all, the red sideplumes. I obtained a series of specimens, illustrating the manner inwhich the extraordinary black tail ribands are developed, which is veryremarkable. They first appear as two ordinary feathers, rather shorterthan the rest of the tail; the second stage would no doubt be that shownin a specimen of Paradisea apoda, in which the feathers are moderatelylengthened, and with the web narrowed in the middle; the third stage isshown by a specimen which has part of the midrib bare, and terminatedby a spatulate web; in another the bare midrib is a little dilatedand semi-cylindrical, and the terminal web very small; in a fifth, theperfect black horny riband is formed, but it bears at its extremitya brown spatulate web, while in another a portion of the black ribanditself bears, for a portion of its length, a narrow brown web. It isonly after these changes are fully completed that the red side plumesbegin to appear. The successive stages of development of the colours and plumage of theBirds of Paradise are very interesting, from the striking manner inwhich they accord with the theory of their having been produced by thesimple action of variation, and the cumulative power of selection by thefemales, of those male birds which were more than usually ornamental. Variations of _colour_ are of all others the most frequent and themost striking, and are most easily modified and accumulated by man'sselection of them. We should expect, therefore, that the sexualdifferences of _colour_ would be those most early accumulated and fixed, and would therefore appear soonest in the young birds; and this isexactly what occurs in the Paradise Birds. Of all variations in the_form_ of birds' feathers, none are so frequent as those in the head andtail. These occur more, or less in every family of birds, and are easilyproduced in many domesticated varieties, while unusual developments ofthe feathers of the body are rare in the whole class of birds, and haveseldom or never occurred in domesticated species. In accordance withthese facts, we find the scale-formed plumes of the throat, the crestsof the head, and the long cirrhi of the tail, all fully developed beforethe plumes which spring from the side of the body begin to mane theirappearance. If, on the other hand, the male Paradise Birds have notacquired their distinctive plumage by successive variations, but havebeen as they are mow from the moment they first appeared upon the earth, this succession becomes at the least unintelligible to us, for we cansee no reason why the changes should not take place simultaneously, orin a reverse order to that in which they actually occur. What is known of the habits of this bird, and the way in which it iscaptured by the natives, have already been described at page 362. The Red Bird of Paradise offers a remarkable case of restrictedrange, being entirely confined to the small island of Waigiou, off thenorth-west extremity of New Guinea, where it replaces the allied speciesfound in the other islands. The three birds just described form a well-marked group, agreeing inevery point of general structure, in their comparatively large size, the brown colour of their bodies, wings, and tail, and in the peculiarcharacter of the ornamental plumage which distinguishes the male bird. The group ranges nearly over the whole area inhabited by the family ofthe Paradiseidae, but each of the species has its own limited region, and is never found in the same district with either of its close allies. To these three birds properly belongs the generic title Paradisea, ortrue Paradise Bird. The next species is the Paradisea regia of Linnaeus, or Ding Bird ofParadise, which differs so much from the three preceding species asto deserve a distinct generic name, and it has accordingly been calledCicinnurus regius. By the Malays it is called "Burong rajah, " or KingBird, and by the natives of the Aru Islands "Goby-goby. " This lovely little bird is only about six and a half inches long, partlyowing to the very short tail, which does not surpass the somewhat squarewings. The head, throat, and entire upper surface are of the richestglossy crimson red, shading to orange-crimson on the forehead, where thefeathers extend beyond the nostrils more than half-way down the beak. The plumage is excessively brilliant, shining in certain lights with ametallic or glassy lustre. The breast and belly are pure silky white, between which colour and the red of the throat there is a broad band ofrich metallic green, and there is a small spot of the same colour closeabove each eye. From each side of the body beneath the wing, springsa tuft of broad delicate feathers about an inch and a half long, of anashy colour, but tipped with a broad band of emerald green, borderedwithin by a narrow line of buff: These plumes are concealed beneath thewing, but when the bird pleases, can be raised and spread out so as toform an elegant semicircular fan on each shoulder. But another ornamentstill more extraordinary, and if possible more beautiful, adorns thislittle bird. The two middle tail feathers are modified into very slenderwirelike shafts, nearly six inches long, each of which bears at theextremity, on the inner side only, a web of an emerald green colour, which is coiled up into a perfect spiral disc, and produces a mostsingular and charming effect. The bill is orange yellow, and the feetand legs of a fine cobalt blue. (See upper figure on the plate at thecommencement of this chapter. ) The female of this little gem is such a plainly coloured bird, that itcan at first sight hardly be believed to belong to the same species. Theupper surface is of a dull earthy brown, a slight tinge of orange redappearing only on the margins of the quills. Beneath, it is of a paleryellowish brown, scaled and banded with narrow dusky markings. The youngmales are exactly like the female, and they no doubt undergo a series ofchanges as singular as those of Paradisea rubra; but, unfortunately, Iwas unable to obtain illustrative specimens. This exquisite little creature frequents the smaller trees in thethickest parts of the forest, feeding on various fruits; often of a verylarge size for so small a bird. It is very active both on its wings andfeet, and makes a whirring sound while flying, something like theSouth American manakins. It often flutters its wings and displays thebeautiful fan which adorns its breast, while the star-bearing tail wiresdiverge in an elegant double curve. It is tolerably plentiful in theAru Islands, which led to it, being brought to Europe at an early periodalong with Paradisea apoda. It also occurs in the island of Mysol and inevery part of New Guinea which has been visited by naturalists. We now come to the remarkable little bird called the "Magnificent, "first figured by Buffon, and named Paradisea speciosa by Boddaert, which, with one allied species, has been formed into a separate genusby Prince Buonaparte, under the name of Diphyllodes, from the curiousdouble mantle which clothes the back. The head is covered with short brown velvety feathers, which advance onthe back so as to cover the nostrils. From the nape springs a dense massof feathers of a straw-yellow colour, and about one and a half incheslong, forming a mantle over the upper part of the back. Beneath this, and forming a band about one-third of an inch beyond it, is a secondmantle of rich, glossy, reddish-brown fathers. The rest of the bath isorange-brown, the tail-coverts and tail dark bronzy, the wings lightorange-buff: The whole under surface is covered with an abundance ofplumage springing from the margins of the breast, and of a rich deepgreen colour, with changeable hues of purple. Down the middle of thebreast is a broad band of scaly plumes of the same colour, while thechin and throat are of a rich metallic bronze. From the middle of thetail spring two narrow feathers of a rich steel blue, and about teninches long. These are webbed on the inner side only, and curve outward, so as to form a double circle. From what we know of the habits of allied species, we may be sure thatthe greatly developed plumage of this bird is erected and displayed insome remarkable manner. The mass of feathers on the under surface areprobably expanded into a hemisphere, while the beautiful yellow mantleis no doubt elevated so as to give the bird a very different appearancefrom that which it presents in the dried and flattened skins of thenatives, through which alone it is at present known. The feet appear tobe dark blue. This rare and elegant little bird is found only on the mainland of NewGuinea, and in the island of Mysol. A still more rare and beautiful species than the last is the Diphyllodeswilsoni, described by Mr. Cassin from a native skin in the rich museumof Philadelphia. The same bird was afterwards named "Diphyllodesrespublica" by Prince Buonaparte, and still later, "Schlegelia calva, "by Dr. Bernstein, who was so fortunate as to obtain fresh specimens inWaigiou. In this species the upper mantle is sulphur yellow, the lower one andthe wings pure red, the breast plumes dark green, and the lengthenedmiddle tail feathers much shorter than in the allied species. The mostcurious difference is, however, that the top of the head is bald, thebare skin being of a rich cobalt blue, crossed by several lines of blackvelvety feathers. It is about the same size as Diphyllodes speciosa, and is no doubtentirely confined to the island of Waigiou. The female, as figured anddescribed by Dr. Bernstein, is very like that of Cicinnurus regius, being similarly banded beneath; and we may therefore conclude that itsnear ally, the "Magnificent, " is at least equally plain in this sex, ofwhich specimens have not yet been obtained. The Superb Bird of Paradise was first figured by Buffon, and wasnamed by Boddaert, Paradisea atra, from the black ground colour of itsplumage. It forms the genus Lophorina of Viellot, and is one of therarest and most brilliant of the whole group, being only knownfront mutilated native skins. This bird is a little larger than theMagnificent. The ground colour of the plumage is intense black, but withbeautiful bronze reflections on the neck, and the whole head scaled withfeathers of brilliant metallic green and blue. Over its breast it bearsa shield formed of narrow and rather stiff feathers, much elongatedtowards the sides, of a pure bluish-green colour, and with a satinygloss. But a still more extraordinary ornament is that which springsfrom the back of the neck, --a shield of a similar form to that on thebreast, but much larger, and of a velvety black colour, glossed withbronze and purple. The outermost feathers of this shield are halfan inch longer than the wing, and when it is elevated it must, inconjunction with the breast shield, completely change the form and wholeappearance of the bird. The bill is black, and the feet appear to beyellow. This wonderful little bird inhabits the interior of the northernpeninsula of New Guinea only. Neither I nor Mr. Allen could hearanything of it in any of the islands or on any part of the coast. It istrue that it was obtained from the coast-natives by Lesson; but whenat Sorong in 1861, Mr. Allen learnt that it is only found three days'journey in the interior. Owing to these "Black Birds of Paradise, " asthey are called, not being so much valued as articles of merchandise, they now seem to be rarely preserved by the natives, and it thushappened that during several years spent on the coasts of New Guineaand in the Moluccas I was never able to obtain a skin. We are thereforequite ignorant of the habits of this bird, and also of its female, though the latter is no doubt as plain and inconspicuous as in all theother species of this family. The Golden, or Six-shafted, Paradise Bird, is another rare species, first figured by Buffon, and never yet obtained in perfect condition. Itwas named by Boddaert, Paradisea sexpennis, and forms the genusParotia of Viellot. This wonderful bird is about the size of the femaleParadisea rubra. The plumage appear, at first sight black, but it glowsin certain light with bronze and deep purple. The throat and breast arescaled with broad flat feathers of an intense golden hue, changing togreen and blue tints in certain lights. On the back of the head is abroad recurved band of feathers, whose brilliancy is indescribable, resembling the sheen of emerald and topaz rather than any organicsubstance. Over the forehead is a large patch of pure white feathers, which shine like satin; and from the sides of the head spring the sixwonderful feathers from which the bird receives its name. These areslender wires, six inches long, with a small oval web at the extremity. In addition to these ornaments, there is also an immense tuft of softfeathers on each side of the breast, which when elevated must entirelyhide the wings, and give the bird au appearance of being double its realbulk. The bill is black, short, and rather compressed, with the feathersadvancing over the nostrils, as in Cicinnurus regius. This singular andbrilliant bird inhabits the same region as the Superb Bird of Paradise, and nothing whatever is known about it but what we can derive from anexamination of the skins preserved by the natives of New Guinea. The Standard Wing, named Semioptera wallacei by Mr. G. R. Gray, isan entirely new form of Bird of Paradise, discovered by myself in theisland of Batchian, and especially distinguished by a pair of longnarrow feathers of a white colour, which spring from among the shortplumes which clothe the bend of the wing, and are capable of beingerected at pleasure. The general colour of this bird is a delicateolive-brown, deepening to a loud of bronzy olive in the middle of theback, and changing to a delicate ashy violet with a metallic gloss, onthe crown of the head. The feathers, which cover the nostrils and extendhalf-way down the beak, are loose and curved upwards. Beneath, it ismuch more beautiful. The scale-like feathers of the breast are marginedwith rich metallic blue-green, which colour entirely covers the throatand sides of the neck, as well as the long pointed plumes which springfrom the sides of the breast, and extend nearly as far as the end of thewings. The most curious feature of the bird, however, and one altogetherunique in the whole class, is found in the pair of long narrow delicatefeathers which spring from each wing close to the bend. On lifting thewing-coverts they are seen to arise from two tubular horny sheaths, which diverge from near the point of junction of the carpal bones. Asalready described at p. 41, they are erectile, and when the birdis excited are spread out at right angles to the wing and slightlydivergent. They are from six to six and a half inches long, the upperone slightly exceeding the lower. The total length of the bird is eleveninches. The bill is horny olive, the iris deep olive, and the feetbright orange. The female bird is remarkably plain, being entirely of a dull paleearthy brown, with only a slight tinge of ashy violet on the head torelieve its general monotony; and the young males exactly resemble her. (See figures at p. 41. ) This bird, frequents the lower trees of the forests, and, like mostParadise Birds, is in constant motion--flying from branch to branch, clinging to the twigs and even to the smooth and vertical trunks almostas easily as a woodpecker. It continually utters a harsh, creaking note, somewhat intermediate between that of Paradisea apoda, and the moremusical cry of Cicinnurus regius. The males at short intervals open andflutter their wings, erect the long shoulder feathers, and spread outthe elegant green breast shields. The Standard Wing is found in Gilolo as well as in Batchian, and allthe specimens from the former island have the green breast shield ratherlonger, the crown of the head darker violet, and the lower parts of thebody rather more strongly scaled with green. This is the only ParadiseBird yet found in the Moluccan district, all the others being confinedto the Papuan Islands and North Australia. We now come to the Epimachidae, or Long-billed Birds of Paradise, which, as before stated, ought not to be separated from the Paradiseidae by theintervention of any other birds. One of the most remarkable of these isthe Twelve-wired Paradise Bird, Paradises alba of Blumenbach, but nowplaced in the genus Seleucides of Lesson. This bird is about twelve inches long, of which the compressed andcurved beak occupies two inches. The colour of the breast and uppersurface appears at first sight nearly black, but a close examinationshows that no part of it is devoid of colour; and by holding it invarious lights, the most rich and glowing tints become visible. Thehead, covered with short velvety feathers, which advance on the chicmuch further than on the upper part of the beak, is of a purplish bronzecolour; the whole of the back and shoulders is rich bronzy green, whilethe closed wings and tail are of the most brilliant violet purple, allthe plumage having a delicate silky gloss. The mass of feathers whichcover the breast is really almost black, with faint glosses of greenand purple, but their outer edges are margined with glittering bands ofemerald green. The whole lower part of the body is rich buffy yellow, including the tuft of plumes which spring from the sides, and extend aninch and a half beyond the tail. When skins are exposed to the lightthe yellow fades into dull white, from which circumstance it derived itsspecific name. About six of the innermost of these plumes on each sidehave the midrib elongated into slender black wires, which bend at rightangles, and curve somewhat backwards to a length of about ten inches, forming one of those extraordinary and fantastic ornaments with whichthis group of birds abounds. The bill is jet black, and the feetbright yellow. (See lower figure on the plate at the beginning of thischapter). The female, although not quite so plain a bird as in some other species, presents none of the gay colours or ornamental plumage of the male. Thetop of the head and back of the neck are black, the rest of the upperparts rich reddish brown; while the under surface is entirely yellowishashy, somewhat blackish on the breast, and crossed throughout withnarrow blackish wavy bands. The Seleucides alba is found in the island of Salwatty, and in thenorth-western parts of New Guinea, where it frequents flowering trees, especially sago-palms and pandani, sucking the flowers, round andbeneath which its unusually large and powerful feet enable it to cling. Its motions are very rapid. It seldom rests more than a few moments onone tree, after which it flies straight off, and with great swiftness, to another. It has a loud shrill cry, to be heard a long way, consistingof "Cah, cah, " repeated five or six times in a descending scale, and atthe last note it generally flies away. The males are quite solitary intheir habits, although, perhaps, they assemble at pertain times like thetrue Paradise Birds. All the specimens shot and opened by my assistantMr. Allen, who obtained this fine bird during his last voyage to NewGuinea, had nothing in their stomachs but a brown sweet liquid, probably the nectar of the flowers on which they had been feeding. Theycertainly, however, eat both fruit and insects, for a specimen whichI saw alive on board a Dutch steamer ate cockroaches and papaya fruitvoraciously. This bird had the curious habit of resting at noon with thebill pointing vertically upwards. It died on the passage to Batavia, andI secured the body and formed a skeleton, which shows indisputably thatit is really a Bird of Paradise. The tongue is very long and extensible, but flat and little fibrous at the end, exactly like the trueParadiseas. In the island of Salwatty, the natives search in the forests till theyfind the sleeping place of this bird, which they know by seeing itsdung upon the ground. It is generally in a low bushy tree. At night theyclimb up the trap, and either shoot the birds with blunt arrows, or evencatch them alive with a cloth. In New Guinea they are caught by placingsnares on the trees frequented by them, in the same way as the RedParadise birds are caught in Waigiou, and which has already beendescribed at page 362. The great Epimaque, or Long-tailed Paradise Bird (Epimachus magnus), isanother of these wonderful creatures, only known by the imperfect skinsprepared by the natives. In its dark velvety plumage, glowed with bronzeand purple, it resembles the Seleucides alba, but it bears a magnificenttail more than two feet long, glossed on the upper surface with the mostintense opalescent blue. Its chief ornament, however, consists in thegroup of broad plumes which spring from the sides of the breast, andwhich are dilated at the extremity, and banded with the most vividmetallic blue and green. The bill is long and curved, and the feetblack, and similar to those of the allied forms. The total length ofthis fine bird is between three and four feet. This splendid bird inhabits the mountains of New Guinea, in the samedistrict with the Superb and the Six-shafted Paradise Birds, and I wasinformed is sometimes found in the ranges near the coast. I was severaltimes assured by different natives that this bird makes its nest ina hole under ground, or under rocks, always choosing a place with twoapertures, so that it may enter at one and go out at the other. This isvery unlike what we should suppose to be the habits of the bird, but itis not easy to conceive how the story originated if it is not true;and all travellers know that native accounts of the habits of animals, however strange they may seem, almost invariably turn out to be correct. The Scale-breasted Paradise Bird (Epimachus magnificus of Cuvier) is nowgenerally placed with the Australian Rifle birds in the genus Ptiloris. Though very beautiful, these birds are less strikingly decorated withaccessory plumage than the other species we have been describing, theirchief ornament being a more or less developed breastplate of stiffmetallic green feathers, and a small tuft of somewhat hairy plumes onthe sides of the breast. The back and wings of this species are ofan intense velvety black, faintly glossed in certain lights with richpurple. The two broad middle tail feathers are opalescent green-bluewith a velvety surface, and the top of the head is covered with feathersresembling scales of burnished steel. A large triangular space coveringthe chin, throat, and breast, is densely scaled with feathers, having asteel-blue or green lustre, and a silky feel. This is edged below witha narrow band of black, followed by shiny bronzy green, below which thebody is covered with hairy feathers of a rich claret colour, deepeningto black at the tail. The tufts of side plumes somewhat resemble thoseof the true Birds of Paradise, but are scanty, about as long as thetail, and of a black colour. The sides of the head are rich violet, andvelvety feathers extend on each side of the beak over the nostrils. I obtained at Dorey a young male of this bird, in a state of plumagewhich is no doubt that of the adult female, as is the case in all theallied species. The upper surface, wings, and tail are rich reddishbrown, while the under surface is of a pale ashy colour, closely barredthroughout with narrow wavy black bands. There is also a pale bandedstripe over the eye, and a long dusky stripe from the gape down eachside of the neck. This bird is fourteen inches long, whereas the nativeskins of the adult male are only about ten inches, owing to the wayin which the tail is pushed in, so as to give as much prominence aspossible to the ornamental plumage of the breast. At Cape York, in North Australia, there is a closely allied species, Ptiloris alberti, the female of which is very similar to the young malebird here described. The beautiful Rifle Birds of Australia, whichmuch resemble those Paradise Birds, are named Ptiloris paradiseusand Ptiloris victories, The Scale-breasted Paradise Bird seems to beconfined to the mainland of New Guinea, and is less rare than several ofthe other species. There are three other New Guinea birds which are by some authors classedwith the Birds of Paradise, and which, being almost equally remarkablefor splendid plumage, deserve to be noticed here. The first is theParadise pie (Astrapia nigra of Lesson), a bird of the size of Paradisesrubra, but with a very long tail, glossed above with intense violet. The back is bronzy black, the lower parts green, the throat and neckbordered with loose broad feathers of an intense coppery hue, while onthe top of the head and neck they are glittering emerald green, All theplumage round the head is lengthened and erectile, and when spread outby the living bird must lave an effect hardly surpassed by any of thetrue Paradise birds. The bill is black and the feet yellow. The Astrapiaseems to me to be somewhat intermediate between the Paradiseidae andEpimachidae. There is an allied species, having a bare carunculated head, which hasbeen called Paradigalla carunculata. It is believed to inhabit, with thepreceding, the mountainous, interior of New Guinea, but is exceedinglyrare, the only known specimen being in the Philadelphia Museum. The Paradise Oriole is another beautiful bird, which is now sometimesclassed with the Birds of Paradise. It has been named Paradises aureaand Oriolus aureus by the old naturalists, and is now generallyplaced in the same genus as the Regent Bird of Australia (Sericuluschrysocephalus). But the form of the bill and the character of theplumage seem to me to be so different that it will have to form adistinct genus. This bird is almost entirely yellow, with the exceptionof the throat, the tail, and part of the wings and back, which areblack; but it is chiefly characterised by a quantity of long feathers ofan intense glossy orange colour, which cover its neck down to the middleof the back, almost like the hackles of a game-cock. This beautiful bird inhabits the mainland of New Guinea, and is alsofound in Salwatty, but is so rare that I was only able to obtain oneimperfect native skin, and nothing whatever is known of its habits. I will now give a list of all the Birds of Paradise yet known, with theplaces they are believed to inhabit. 1. Paradisea apoda (The Great Paradise Bird). Aru Islands. 2. Paradisea papuana (The Lesser Paradise Bird). New Guinea. Mysol, Jobie. 3. Paradisea rubra (The Red Paradise Bird). Waigiou. 4. Cicinnurus regius (The King Paradise Bird). New Guinea, Aru Islands, Mysol, Salwatty. 5. Diphyllodes speciosa (The Magnificent). New Guinea, Mysol, Salwatty. 6. Diphyllodes wilsoni (The Red Magnificent). Waigiou. 7. Lophorina atra (The Superb). New Guinea. 8. Parotia sexpennis (The Golden Paradise Bird). New Guinea. 9. Semioptera wallacei (The Standard Wing). Batchian, Gilolo. 10. Epimachus magnus (The Long-tailed Paradise Bird). New Guinea 11. Seleucides albs (The Twelve-wired Paradise Bird). New Guinea, Salwatty. 12. Ptiloris magnifica (The Scale-breasted Paradise Bird). New Guinea. 13. Ptiloris alberti (Prince Albert's Paradise Bird). North Australia. 14. Ptiloris Paradisea (The Rifle Bird). East Australia. 15. Ptiloris victoriae (The Victorian Rifle Bird). North-East Australia. 16. Astrapia nigra (The Paradise Pie). New Guinea. 17. Paradigalla carunculata (The Carunculated Paradise Pie). New Guinea. 18. (?) Sericulus aureus (The Paradise Oriole). New Guinea, Salwatty. We see, therefore, that of the eighteen species which seem to deserve aplace among the Birds of Paradise, eleven are known to inhabit the greatisland of New Guinea, eight of which are entirely confined to it and thehardly separated island of Salwatty. But if we consider those islandswhich are now united to New Guinea by a shallow sea to really form apart of it, we shall find that fourteen of the Paradise Birds belongto that country, while three inhabit the northern and eastern partsof Australia, and one the Moluccas. All the more extraordinary andmagnificent species are, however, entirely confined to the Papuanregion. Although I devoted so much time to a search after these wonderful birds, I only succeeded myself in obtaining five species during a residenceof many months in the Aru Islands, New Guinea, and Waigiou. Mr. Allen'svoyage to Mysol did not procure a single additional species, but weboth heard of a place called Sorong, on the mainland of New Guinea, near Salwatty, where we were told that all the kinds we desired could beobtained. We therefore determined that he should visit this place, andendeavour to penetrate into the interior among the natives, who actuallyshoot and skin the Birds of Paradise. He went in the small prau Ihad fitted up at Goram, and through the kind assistance of the DutchResident at Ternate, a lieutenant and two soldiers were sent by theSultan of Tidore to accompany and protect him, and to assist him ingetting men and in visiting the interior. Notwithstanding these precautions, Mr. Allen met with difficulties inthis voyage which we had neither of us encountered before. To understandthese, it is necessary to consider that the Birds of Paradise are anarticle of commerce, and are the monopoly of the chiefs of the coastvillages, who obtain them at a low rate from the mountaineers, and sellthem to the Bugis traders. A portion is also paid every year as tributeto the Sultan of Tidore. The natives are therefore very jealous of astranger, especially a European, interfering in their trade, and aboveall of going into the interior to deal with the mountaineers themselves. They of course think he will raise the prices in the interior, andlessen the supply on the coast, greatly to their disadvantage; they alsothink their tribute will be raised if a European takes back a quantityof the rare sorts; and they have besides a vague and very natural dreadof some ulterior object in a white man's coming at so much trouble andexpense to their country only to get Birds of Paradise, of which theyknow he can buy plenty (of the common yellow ones which alone theyvalue) at Ternate, Macassar, or Singapore. It thus happened that when Mr. Allen arrived at Sorong, and explainedhis intention of going to seek Birds of Paradise in the interior, innumerable objections were raised. He was told it was three or fourdays' journey over swamps and mountains; that the mountaineers weresavages and cannibals, who would certainly kill him; and, lastly, thatnot a man in the village could be found who dare go with him. After somedays spent in these discussions, as he still persisted in making theattempt, and showed them his authority from the Sultan of Tidore to gowhere he pleased and receive every assistance, they at length providedhim with a boat to go the first part of the journey up a river; at thesame time, however, they sent private orders to the interior villagesto refuse to sell any provisions, so as to compel him to return. Onarriving at the village where they were to leave the river and strikeinland, the coast people returned, leaving Mr. Allen to get on ashe could. Here he called on the Tidore lieutenant to assist him, andprocure men as guides and to carry his baggage to the villages of themountaineers. This, however, was not so easily done. A quarrel tookplace, and the natives, refusing to obey the imperious orders of thelieutenant, got out their knives and spears to attack him and hissoldiers; and Mr. Allen himself was obliged to interfere to protectthose who had come to guard him. The respect due to a white man and thetimely distribution of a few presents prevailed; and, on showingthe knives, hatchets, and beads he was willing to give to those whoaccompanied him, peace was restored, and the next day, travelling overa frightfully rugged country, they reached the villages of themountaineers. Here Mr. Allen remained a month without any interpreterthrough whom he could understand a word or communicate a want. However, by signs and presents and a pretty liberal barter, he got on very well, some of them accompanying him every day in the forest to shoot, andreceiving a small present when he was successful. In the grand matter of the Paradise Birds, however, little was done. Only one additional species was found, the Seleucides alba, of whichhe had already obtained a specimen in Salwatty; but he learnt that theother kinds' of which he showed them drawings, were found two or threedays' journey farther in the interior. When I sent my men from Dorey toAmberbaki, they heard exactly the same story--that the rarer sortswere only found several days' journey in the interior, among ruggedmountains, and that the skins were prepared by savage tribes who hadnever even been seen by any of the coast people. It seems as if Nature had taken precautions that these her choicesttreasures should not be made too common, and thus be undervalued. Thisnorthern coast of New Guinea is exposed to the full swell of the PacificOcean, and is rugged and harbourless. The country is all rocky andmountainous, covered everywhere with dense forests, offering in itsswamps and precipices and serrated ridges an almost impassable barrierto the unknown interior; and the people are dangerous savages, in thevery lowest stage of barbarism. In such a country, and among such apeople, are found these wonderful productions of Nature, the Birdsof Paradise, whose exquisite beauty of form and colour and strangedevelopments of plumage are calculated to excite the wonder andadmiration of the most civilized and the most intellectual of mankind, and to furnish inexhaustible materials for study to the naturalist, andfor speculation to the philosopher. Thus ended my search after these beautiful birds. Five voyages todifferent parts of the district they inhabit, each occupying in itspreparation and execution the larger part of a year, produced me onlyfive species out of the fourteen known to exist in the New Guineadistrict. The kinds obtained are those that inhabit the coasts of NewGuinea and its islands, the remainder seeming to be strictly confinedto the central mountain-ranges of the northern peninsula; and ourresearches at Dorey and Amberbaki, near one end of this peninsula, andat Salwatty and Sorong, near the other, enable me to decide with somecertainty on the native country of these rare and lovely birds, goodspecimens of which have never yet been seen in Europe. It must be considered as somewhat extraordinary that, during five years'residence and travel in Celebes, the Moluccas, and New Guinea, I shouldnever have been able to purchase skins of half the species which Lesson, forty years ago, obtained during a few weeks in the same countries. Ibelieve that all, except the common species of commerce, are now muchmore difficult to obtain than they were even twenty years ago; and Iimpute it principally to their having been sought after by the Dutchofficials through the Sultan of Tidore. The chiefs of the annualexpeditions to collect tribute have had orders to get all the rare sortsof Paradise Birds; and as they pay little or nothing for them (it beingsufficient to say they are for the Sultan), the head men of thecoast villages would for the future refuse to purchase them from themountaineers, and confine themselves instead to the commoner species, which are less sought after by amateurs, but are a more profitablemerchandise. The same causes frequently lead the inhabitants ofuncivilized countries to conceal minerals or other natural products withwhich they may become acquainted, from the fear of being obliged to payincreased tribute, or of bringing upon themselves a new and oppressivelabour. CHAPTER XXXIX. THE NATURAL HISTORY OF THE PAPUAN ISLANDS. NEW GUINEA, with the islands joined to it by a shallow sea, constitutethe Papuan group, characterised by a very close resemblance in theirpeculiar forms of life. Having already, in my chapters on the AruIslands and on the Birds of Paradise, given some details of the naturalhistory of this district, I shall here confine myself to a generalsketch of its animal productions, and of their relations to those of therest of the world. New Guinea is perhaps the largest island on the globe, being a littlelarger than Borneo. It is nearly fourteen hundred miles long, and in thewidest part four hundred broad, and seems to be everywhere covered withluxuriant forests. Almost everything that is yet known of its naturalproductions comes from the north-western peninsula, and a few islandsgrouped around it. These do not constitute a tenth part of the area ofthe whole island, and are so cut off from it, that their fauna may wellhe somewhat different; yet they have produced us (with a very partialexploration) no less than two hundred and fifty species of land birds, almost all unknown elsewhere, and comprising some of the most curiousand most beautiful of the feathered tribes. It is needless to say howmuch interest attaches to the far larger unknown portion of thisgreat island, the greatest terra incognita that still remains for thenaturalist to explore, and the only region where altogether new andunimagined forms of life may perhaps be found. There is now, I amhappy to say, some chance that this great country will no longerremain absolutely unknown to us. The Dutch Government have grantedwell-equipped steamer to carry a naturalist (Mr. Rosenberg, alreadymentioned in this work) and assistants to New Guinea, where they areto spend some years in circumnavigating the island, ascending itslarge rivers a< far as possible into the interior, and making extensivecollections of its natural productions. The Mammalia of New Guinea and the adjacent islands, yet discovered, are only seventeen in number. Two of these are bats, one is a pig of apeculiar species (Sus papuensis), and the rest are all marsupials. Thebats are, no doubt, much more numerous, but there is every reason tobelieve that whatever new land Mammalia man be discovered will belongto the marsupial order. One of these is a true kangaroo, very similarto some of middle-sized kangaroos of Australia, and it is remarkable asbeing the first animal of the kind ever seen by Europeans. It inhabitsMysol and the Aru Islands (an allied species being found in New Guinea), and was seen and described by Le Brun in 1714, from living specimens atBatavia. A much more extraordinary creature is the tree-kangaroo, twospecies of which are known from New Guinea. These animals do not differvery strikingly in form from the terrestrial kangaroos, and appear to bebut imperfectly adapted to an arboreal life, as they move rather slowly, and do not seem to have a very secure footing on the limb of a tree. Theleaping power of the muscular tail is lost, and powerful claws have beenacquired to assist in climbing, but in other respects the animal seemsbetter adapted to walls on terra firma. This imperfect adaptation maybe due to the fact of there being no carnivore in New Guinea, and noenemies of any kind from which these animals have to escape by rapidclimbing. Four species of Cuscus, and the small flying opossum, alsoinhabit New Guinea; and there are five other smaller marsupials, one ofwhich is the size of a rat, and takes its place by entering houses anddevouring provisions. The birds of New Guinea offer the greatest possible contrast to theMammalia, since they are more numerous, more beautiful, and afford morenew, curious, and elegant forms than those of any other island on theglobe. Besides the Birds of Paradise, which we have already sufficientlyconsidered, it possesses a number of other curious birds, which in theeyes of the ornithologist almost serves to distinguish it as one of theprimary divisions of the earth. Among its thirty species of parrots arethe Great Pluck Cockatoo, and the little rigid-tailed Nasiterna, thegiant and the dwarf of the whole tribe. The bare-headed Dasyptilusis one of the most singular parrots known; while the beautiful littlelong-tailed Charmosyna, and the great variety of gorgeously-colouredlories, have no parallels elsewhere. Of pigeons it possesses about fortydistinct species, among which are the magnificent crowned pigeons, nowso well known in our aviaries, and pre-eminent both for size and beauty;the curious Trugon terrestris, which approaches the still more strangeDidunculus of Samoa; and a new genus (Henicophaps), discovered bymyself, which possesses a very long and powerful bill, quite unlike thatof any other pigeon. Among its sixteen kingfishers, it possesses thecarious hook-billed Macrorhina, and a red and blue Tanysiptera, the mostbeautiful of that beautiful genus. Among its perching birds are the finegenus of crow-like starlings, with brilliant plumage (Manucodia); thecarious pale-coloured crow (Gymnocorvus senex); the abnormal red andblack flycatcher (Peltops blainvillii); the curious little boat-billedflycatchers (Machaerirhynchus); and the elegant blue flycatcher-wrens(Todopsis). The naturalist will obtain a clearer idea of the variety and interest ofthe productions of this country, by the statement, that its land birdsbelong to 108 genera, of which 20 are exclusively characteristic of it;while 35 belong to that limited area which includes the Moluccas andNorth Australia, and whose species of these genera have been entirelyderived from New Guinea. About one-half of the New Guinea genera arefound also in Australia, about one-third in India and the Indo-Malayislands. A very curious fact, not hitherto sufficiently noticed, is theappearance of a pure Malay element in the birds of New Guinea. Wefind two species of Eupetes, a curious Malayan genus allied to theforked-tail water-chats; two of Alcippe, an Indian and Malay wren-likeform; an Arachnothera, quite resembling the spider-catching honeysuckersof Malacca; two species of Gracula, the Mynahs of India; and a curiouslittle black Prionochilus, a saw-billed fruit pecker, undoubtedly alliedto the Malayan form, although perhaps a distinct genus. Now not oneof these birds, or anything allied to them, occurs in the Moluccas, or(with one exception) in Celebes or Australia; and as they are most ofthem birds of short flight, it is very difficult to conceive how or whenthey could have crossed the space of more than a thousand miles, whichnow separates them from their nearest allies. Such facts point tochanges of land and sea on a large scale, and at a rate which, measuredby the time required for a change of species, must be termed rapid. By speculating on such changes, we may easily see how partial wavesof immigration may have entered New Guinea, and how all trace of theirpassage may have been obliterated by the subsequent disappearance of theintervening land. There is nothing that the study of geology teaches us that is morecertain or more impressive than the extreme instability of the earth'ssurface. Everywhere beneath our feet we find proofs that what is landhas been sea, and that where oceans now spread out has once been land;and that this change from sea to land, and from land to sea, has takenplace, not once or twice only, but again and again, during countlessages of past time. Now the study of the distribution of animal life uponthe present surface of the earth, causes us to look upon this constantinterchange of land and sea--this making and unmaking of continents, this elevation and disappearance of islands--as a potent reality, whichhas always and everywhere been in progress, and has been the main agentin determining the manner in which living things are now grouped andscattered over the earth's surface. And when we continually come uponsuch little anomalies of distribution as that just now described, wefind the only rational explanation of them, in those repeated elevationsand depressions which have left their record in mysterious, but stillintelligible characters on the face of organic nature. The insects of New Guinea are less known than the birds, but they seemalmost equally remarkable for fine forms and brilliant colours. Themagnificent green and yellow Ornithopterae are abundant, and have mostprobably spread westward from this point as far as India. Among thesmaller butterflies are several peculiar genera of Nymphalidae andLycaenidae, remarkable for their large size, singular markings, orbrilliant coloration. The largest and most beautiful of the clear-wingedmoths (Cocytia d'urvillei) is found here, as well as the large andhandsome green moth (Nyctalemon orontes). The beetles furnish us withmany species of large size, and of the most brilliant metallic lustre, among which the Tmesisternus mirabilis, a longicorn beetle of a goldengreen colour; the excessively brilliant rose-chafers, Lomaptera wallaceiand Anacamptorhina fulgida; one of the handsomest of the Buprestidae, Calodema wallacei; and several fine blue weevils of the genus Eupholus, are perhaps the most conspicuous. Almost all the other orders furnish uswith large or extraordinary forms. The curious horned flies have alreadybeen mentioned; and among the Orthoptera the great shielded grasshoppersare the most remarkable. The species here figured (Megalodon ensifer)has the thorax covered by a large triangular horny shield, two and ahalf inches long, with serrated edges, a somewhat wavy, hollow surface, and a faun median line, so as very closely to resemble a leaf. Theglossy wing-coverts (when fully expanded, more than nine inches across)are of a fine green colour and so beautifully veined as to imitateclosely some of the large shining tropical leaves. The body is short, and terminated in the female by a long curved sword-like ovipositor (notseen in the cut), and the legs are all long and strongly-spined. Theseinsects are sluggish in their motions, depending for safety on theirresemblance to foliage, their horny shield and wing-coverts, and theirspiny legs. The large islands to the east of New Guinea are very little known, butthe occurrence of crimson lories, which are quite absent from Australia, and of cockatoos allied to those of New Guinea and the Moluccas, showsthat they belong to the Papuan group; and we are thus able to define theMalay Archipelago as extending eastward to the Solomon's Islands. NewCaledonia and the New Hebrides, on the other hand, seem more nearlyallied to Australia; and the rest of the islands of the Pacific, thoughvery poor in all forms of life, possess a few peculiarities whichcompel us to class them as a separate group. Although as a matterof convenience I have always separated the Moluccas as a distinctzoological group from New Guinea, I have at the same time pointed outthat its fauna was chiefly derived from that island, just as thatof Timor was chiefly derived from Australia. If we were dividing theAustralian region for zoological purposes alone, we should form threegreat groups: one comprising Australia, Timor, and Tasmania; anotherNew Guinea, with the islands from Bouru to the Solomon's group; and thethird comprising the greater part of the Pacific Islands. The relation of the New Guinea fauna to that of Australia is very close. It is best marked in the Mammalia by the abundance of marsupials, andthe almost complete absence of all other terrestrial forms. In birdsit is less striking, although still very clear, for all the remarkableold-world forms which are absent from the one are equally so from theother, such as Pheasants, Grouse, Vultures, and Woodpeckers; whileCockatoos, Broad-tailed Parrots, Podargi, and the great families of theHoneysuckers and Brush-turkeys, with many others, comprising no lessthan twenty-four genera of land-birds, are common to both countries, andare entirely confined to them. When we consider the wonderful dissimilarity of the two regions in allthose physical conditions which were once supposed to determine theforms of life-Australia, with its open plains, stony deserts, dried uprivers, and changeable temperate climate; New Guinea, with its luxuriantforests, uniformly hot, moist, and evergreen--this great similarity intheir productions is almost astounding, and unmistakeably points toa common origin. The resemblance is not nearly so strongly marked ininsects, the reason obviously being, that this class of animals are muchmore immediately dependent on vegetation and climate than are themore highly organized birds and Mammalia. Insects also have far moreeffective means of distribution, and have spread widely into everydistrict favourable to their development and increase. The giantOrnithopterae have thus spread from New Guinea over the wholeArchipelago, and as far as the base of the Himalayas; while the elegantlong-horned Anthribidae have spread in the opposite direction fromMalacca to New Guinea, but owing to unfavourable conditions have notbeen able to establish themselves in Australia. That country, on theother hand, has developed a variety of flower-haunting Chafers andBuprestidae, and numbers of large and curious terrestrial Weevils, scarcely any of which are adapted to the damp gloomy forests of NewGuinea, where entirely different forms are to be found. There are, however, some groups of insects, constituting what appear to be theremains of the ancient population of the equatorial parts of theAustralian region, which are still almost entirely confined to it. Suchare the interesting sub-family of Longicorn coleoptera--Tmesisternitae;one of the best-marked genera of Buprestidae--Cyphogastra; and thebeautiful weevils forming the genus Eupholus. Among butterflies we havethe genera Mynes, Hypocista, and Elodina, and the curious eye-spottedDrusilla, of which last a single species is found in Java, but in noother of the western islands. The facilities for the distribution of plants are still greater thanthey are for insects, and it is the opinion of eminent botanists, that no such clearly-defined regions pan be marked out in botany as inzoology. The causes which tend to diffusion are here most powerful, andhave led to such intermingling of the floras of adjacent regions thatnone but broad and general divisions can now be detected. These remarkshave an important bearing on the problem of dividing the surface of theearth into great regions, distinguished by the radical difference oftheir natural productions. Such difference we now know to be the directresult of long-continued separation by more or less impassable barriers;and as wide oceans and great contrast: of temperature are the mostcomplete barriers to the dispersal of all terrestrial forms of life, the primary divisions of the earth should in the main serve for allterrestrial organisms. However various may be the effects of climate, however unequal the means of distribution; these will never altogetherobliterate the radical effects of long-continued isolation; and it is myfirm conviction, that when the botany and the entomology of New Guineaand the surrounding islands become as well known as are their mammalsand birds, these departments of nature will also plainly indicate theradical distinctions of the Indo-Malayan and Austro-Malayan regions ofthe great Malay Archipelago. CHAPTER XL. THE RACES OF MAN IN THE MALAY ARCHIPELAGO. PROPOSE to conclude this account of my Eastern travels, with a shortstatement of my views as to the races of man which inhabit thevarious parts of the Archipelago, their chief physical and mentalcharacteristics, their affinities with each other and with surroundingtribes, their migrations, and their probable origin. Two very strongly contrasted races inhabit the Archipelago--the Malays, occupying almost exclusively the larger western half of it, and thePapuans, whose headquarters are New Guinea and several of the adjacentislands. Between these in locality, are found tribes who are alsointermediate in their chief characteristics, and it is sometimes a nicepoint to determine whether they belong to one or the other race, or havebeen formed by a mixture of the two. The Malay is undoubtedly the most important of these two races, as itis the one which is the most civilized, which has come most into contactwith Europeans, and which alone has any place in history. What maybe called the true Malay races, as distinguished from others whohave merely a Malay element in their language, present a considerableuniformity of physical and mental characteristics, while there are verygreat differences of civilization and of language. They consist of fourgreat, and a few minor semi-civilized tribes, and a number of others whomay be termed savages. The Malays proper inhabit the Malay peninsula, and almost all the coast regions of Borneo and Sumatra. They allspeak the Malay language, or dialects of it; they write in the Arabiccharacter, and are Mahometans in religion. The Javanese inhabit Java, part of Sumatra, Madura, Bali, and Bart of Lombock. They speak theJavanese and Kawi languages, which they write in a native character. They are now Mahometans in Java, but Brahmins in Bali and Lombock. TheBugis are the inhabitants of the greater parts of Celebes, and thereseems to be an allied people in Sumbawa. They speak the Bugis andMacassar languages, with dialects, and have two different nativecharacters in which they write these. They are all Mahometans. Thefourth great race is that of the Tagalas in the Philippine Islands, about whom, as I did not visit those Islands, I shall say little. Manyof them are now Christians, and speak Spanish as well as their nativetongue, the Tagala. The Moluccan-Malays, who inhabit chiefly Ternate, Tidore, Batchian, and Amboyna, may be held to form a fifth division ofsemi-civilized Malays. They are all Mahometans, but they speak a varietyof curious languages, which seem compounded of Bugis and Javanese, withthe languages of the savage tribes of the Moluccas. The savage Malays are the Dyaks of Borneo; the Battaks and other wildtribes of Sumatra; the Jakuns of the Malay Peninsula; the aborigines ofNorthern Celebes, of the Sula island, and of part of Bouru. The colour of all these varied tribes is a light reddish brown, withmore or less of an olive tinge, not varying in any important degreeover an extent of country as large as all Southern Europe. The hair isequally constant, being invariably black and straight, and of a rathercoarse texture, so that any lighter tint, or any wave or curl in it, isan almost certain proof of the admixture of some foreign blood. The faceis nearly destitute of beard, and the breast and limbs are free fromhair. The stature is tolerably equal, and is always considerably belowthat of the average European; the body is robust, the breast welldeveloped, the feet small, thick, and short, the hands small and ratherdelicate. The face is a little broad, and inclined to be flat; theforehead is rather rounded, the brows low, the eyes black and veryslightly oblique; the nose is rather small, not prominent, but straightand well-shaped, the apex a little rounded, the nostrils broad andslightly exposed; the cheek-bones are rather prominent, the mouth large, the lips broad and well cut, but not protruding, the chin round andwell-formed. In this description there seems little to object to on the score ofbeauty, and yet on the whole the Malays are certainly not handsome. Inyouth, however, they are often very good-looking, and many of the boysand girls up to twelve or fifteen years of age are very pleasing, andsome have countenances which are in their way almost perfect. I aminclined to think they lose much of their good looks by bad habitsand irregular living. At a very early age they chew betel and tobaccoalmost incessantly; they suffer much want and exposure in theirfishing and other excursions; their lives are often passed in alternatestarvation and feasting, idleness and excessive labour, --and thisnaturally produces premature old age and harshness of features. In character the Malay is impassive. He exhibits a reserve, diffidence, and even bashfulness, which is in some degree attractive, and leads theobserver to thinly that the ferocious and bloodthirsty character imputedto the race must be grossly exaggerated. He is not demonstrative. Hisfeelings of surprise, admiration, or fear, are never openly manifested, and are probably not strongly felt. He is slow and deliberate in speech, and circuitous in introducing the subject he has come expressly todiscuss. These are the main features of his moral nature, and exhibitthemselves in every action of his life. Children and women are timid, and scream and run at the unexpected sightof a European. In the company of men they are silent, and are generallyquiet and obedient. When alone the Malay is taciturn; he neithertalks nor sings to himself. When several are paddling in a canoe, theyoccasionally chant a monotonous and plaintive song. He is cautious ofgiving offence to his equals. He does not quarrel easily about moneymatters; dislikes asking too frequently even for payment of his justdebts, and will often give them up altogether rather than quarrel withhis debtor. Practical joking is utterly repugnant to his disposition;for he is particularly sensitive to breaches of etiquette, or anyinterference with the personal liberty of himself or another. As anexample, I may mention that I have often found it very difficult to getone Malay servant to waken another. He will call as loud as he can, butwill hardly touch, much less shake his comrade. I have frequently had towaken a hard sleeper myself when on a land or sea journey. The higher classes of Malays are exceedingly polite, and have allthe quiet ease and dignity of the best-bred Europeans. Yet this iscompatible with a reckless cruelty and contempt of human life, whichis the dark side of their character. It is not to be wondered at, therefore, that different persons give totally opposite accounts ofthem--one praising them for their soberness, civility, and good-nature;another abusing them for their deceit, treachery, and cruelty. The oldtraveller Nicolo Conti, writing in 1430, says: "The inhabitants of Javaand Sumatra exceed every other people in cruelty. They regard killing aman as a mere jest; nor is any punishment allotted for such a deed. Ifany one purchase a new sword, and wish to try it, he will thrust itinto the breast of the first person he meets. The passers-by examine thewound, and praise the skill of the person who inflicted it, if he thrustin the weapon direct. " Yet Drake says of the south of Java: "The people(as are their kings) are a very loving, true, and just-dealing people;"and Mr. Crawfurd says that the Javanese, whom he knew thoroughly, are "apeaceable, docile, sober, simple, and industrious people. " Barbosa, onthe other hand, who saw them at Malacca about 1660, says: "They area people of great ingenuity, very subtle in all their dealings; verymalicious, great deceivers, seldom speaking the truth; prepared to doall manner of wickedness, and ready to sacrifice their lives. " The intellect of the Malay race seems rather deficient. They areincapable of anything beyond the simplest combinations of ideas, andhave little taste or energy for the acquirement of knowledge. Theircivilization, such as it is, does not seem to be indigenous, as itis entirely confined to those nations who have been converted to theMahometan or Brahminical religions. I will now give an equally brief sketch of the other great race of theMalay Archipelago, the Papuan. The typical Papuan race is in many respects the very opposite of theMalay, and it has hitherto been very imperfectly described. The colourof the body is a deep sooty-brown or black, sometimes approaching, butnever quite equalling, the jet-black of some negro races. It variesin tint, however, more than that of the Malay, and is sometimes adusky-brown. The hair is very peculiar, being harsh, dry, and frizzly, growing in little tufts or curls, which in youth are very short andcompact, but afterwards grow out to a considerable length, forming thecompact frizzled mop which is the Papuans' pride and glory. The face isadorned with a beard of the same frizzly nature as the hair of the head. The arms, legs, and breast are also more or less clothed with hair of asimilar nature. In stature the Papuan decidedly surpasses the Malay, and is perhapsequal, or even superior, to the average of Europeans. The legs are longand thin, and the hands and feet larger than in the Malays. The face issomewhat elongated, the forehead flatfish, the brows very prominent;the nose is large, rather arched and high, the base thick, the nostrilsbroad, with the aperture hidden, owing to the tip of the nose beingelongated; the mouth is large, the lips thick and protuberant. The facehas thus an altogether more European aspect than in the Malay, owingto the large nose; and the peculiar form of this organ, with the moreprominent brows and the character of the hair on the head, face, and body, enable us at a glance to distinguish the two races. I haveobserved that most of these characteristic features are as distinctlyvisible in children of ten or twelve years old as in adults, and thepeculiar form of the nose is always shown in the figures which theycarve for ornaments to their houses, or as charms to wear round theirnecks. The moral characteristics of the Papuan appear to me to separate him asdistinctly from the Malay as do his form and features. He is impulsiveand demonstrative in speech and action. His emotions and passionsexpress themselves in shouts and laughter, in yells and franticleapings. Women and children take their share in every discussion, andseem little alarmed at the sight of strangers and Europeans. Of the intellect of this race it is very difficult to judge, but Iam inclined to rate it somewhat higher than that of the Malays, notwithstanding the fact that the Papuans have never yet made anyadvance towards civilization. It must be remembered, however, that forcenturies the Malays have been influenced by Hindoo, Chinese, and Arabicimmigration, whereas the Papuan race has only been subjected to the verypartial and local influence of Malay traders. The Papuan has much morevital energy, which would certainly greatly assist his intellectualdevelopment. Papuan slaves show no inferiority of intellect, comparedwith Malays, but rather the contrary; and in the Moluccas they areoften promoted to places of considerable trust. The Papuan has a greaterfeeling for art than the Malay. He decorates his canoe, his house, andalmost every domestic utensil with elaborate carving, a habit which israrely found among tribes of the Malay race. In the affections and moral sentiments, on the other hand, the Papuansseem very deficient. In the treatment of their children they are oftenviolent and cruel; whereas the Malays are almost invariably kind andgentle, hardly ever interfering at all with their children's pursuitsand amusements, and giving them perfect liberty at whatever age theywish to claim it. But these very peaceful relations between parentsand children are no doubt, in a great measure, due to the listless andapathetic character of the race, which never leads the younger membersinto serious opposition to the elders; while the harsher discipline ofthe Papuans may be chiefly due to that greater vigour and energy ofmind which always, sooner or later, leads to the rebellion of theweaker against the stronger, --the people against their rulers, the slaveagainst his master, or the child against its parent. It appears, therefore, that, whether we consider their physicalconformation, their moral characteristics, or their intellectualcapacities, the Malay and Papuan races offer remarkable differencesand striking contrasts. The Malay is of short stature, brown-skinned, straight-haired, beardless, and smooth-bodied. The Papuan is taller, isblack-skinned, frizzly-haired, bearded, and hairy-bodied. The formeris broad-faced, has a small nose, and flat eyebrows; the latter islong-faced, has a large and prominent nose, and projecting eyebrows. TheMalay is bashful, cold, undemonstrative, and quiet; the Papuan is bold, impetuous, excitable, and noisy. The former is grave and seldom laughs;the latter is joyous and laughter-loving, --the one conceals hisemotions, the other displays them. Having thus described in some detail, the great physical, intellectual, and moral differences between the Malays and Papuans, we have toconsider the inhabitants of the numerous islands which do not agree veryclosely with either of these races. The islands of Obi, Batchian, andthe three southern peninsulas of Gilolo, possess no true indigenouspopulation; but the northern peninsula is inhabited by a native race, the so-called Alfuros of Sahoe and Galela. These people are quitedistinct from the Malays, and almost equally so from the Papuans. Theyare tall and well-made, with Papuan features, and curly hair; they arebearded and hairy-limbed, but quite as light in colour as the Malays. They are an industrious and enterprising race, cultivating rice andvegetables, and indefatigable in their search after game, fish, tripang, pearls, and tortoiseshell. In the great island of Ceram there is also an indigenous race verysimilar to that of Northern Gilolo. Bourn seems to contain two distinctraces, --a shorter, round-faced people, with a Malay physiognomy, who mayprobably have come from Celebes by way of the Sula islands; and a tallerbearded race, resembling that of Ceram. Far south of the Moluccas lies the island of Timor, inhabited by tribesmuch nearer to the true Papuan than those of the Moluccas. The Timorese of the interior are dusky brown or blackish, with bushyfrizzled hair, and the long Papuan nose. They are of medium height, and rather slender figures. The universal dress is a long cloth twistedround the waist, the fringed ends of which hang below the knee. Thepeople are said to be great thieves, and the tribes are always at warwith each other, but they are not very courageous or bloodthirsty. Thecustom of "tabu, " called here "pomali, " is very general, fruit trees, houses, crop, and property of all kinds being protected from depredationby this ceremony, the reverence for which is very great. A palm branchstuck across an open door, showing that the house is tabooed, is a moreeffectual guard against robbery than any amount of locks and bars. Thehouses in Timor are different from those of most of the other islands;they seem all roof, the thatch overhanging the low walls and reachingthe ground, except where it is cut away for an entrance. In some partsof the west end of Timor, and on the little island of Semau, the housesmore resemble those of the Hottentots, being egg-shaped, very small, andwith a door only about three feet high. These are built on the ground, while those of the eastern districts art, raised a few feet on posts. In their excitable disposition, loud voices, and fearless demeanour, theTimorese closely resemble the people of New Guinea. In the islands west of Timor, as far as Flores and Sandalwood Island, avery similar race is found, which also extends eastward to Timor-laut, where the true Papuan race begins to appear. The small islands ofSavu and Rotti, however, to the west of Timor, are very remarkablein possessing a different and, in some respects, peculiar race. Thesepeople are very handsome, with good features, resembling in manycharacteristics the race produced by the mixture of the Hindoo or Arabwith the Malay. They are certainly distinct from the Timorese or Papuanraces, and must be classed in the western rather than the easternethnological division of the Archipelago. The whole of the great island of New Guinea, the Ke and Aru Islands, with Mysol, Salwatty, and Waigiou, are inhabited almost exclusively bythe typical Papuans. I found no trace of any other tribes inhabiting theinterior of New Guinea, but the coast people are in some places mixedwith the browner races of the Moluccas. The same Papuan race seems toextend over the islands east of New Guinea as far as the Fijis. There remain to be noticed the black woolly-haired races of thePhilippines and the Malay peninsula, the former called "Negritos, " andthe latter "Semangs. " I have never seen these people myself, but fromthe numerous accurate descriptions of them that have been published, I have had no difficulty in satisfying myself that they have littleaffinity or resemblance to the Papuans, with which they have beenhitherto associated. In most important characters they differ more fromthe Papuan than they do from the Malay. They are dwarfs in stature, onlyaveraging four feet six inches to four feet eight inches high, or eightinches less than the Malays; whereas the Papuans are decidedly tallerthan the Malays. The nose is invariably represented as small, flattened, or turned up at the apex, whereas the most universal character of thePapuan race is to have the nose prominent and large, with the apexproduced downwards, as it is invariably represented in their own rudeidols. The hair of these dwarfish races agrees with that of the Papuans, but so it does with that of the negroes of Africa. The Negritos and theSemangs agree very closely in physical characteristics with each otherand with the Andaman Islanders, while they differ in a marked mannerfrom every Papuan race. A careful study of these varied races, comparing them with those ofEastern Asia, the Pacific Islands, and Australia, has led me to adopt acomparatively simple view as to their origin and affinities. If we draw a line (see Physical Map, Vol. 1. P. 14), commencing tothe east of the Philippine Islands, thence along the western coast ofGilolo, through the island of Bouru, and curving round the west end ofMores, then bending back by Sandalwood Island to take in Rotti, weshall divide the Archipelago into two portions, the races of which havestrongly marked distinctive peculiarities. This line will separate theMalayan and all the Asiatic races, from the Papuans and all that inhabitthe Pacific; and though along the line of junction intermigration andcommixture have taken place, yet the division is on the whole almost aswell defined and strongly contrasted, as is the corresponding zoologicaldivision of the Archipelago, into an Indo-Malayan and Austro-Malayanregion. I must briefly explain the reasons that have led me to consider thisdivision of the Oceanic races to be a true and natural one. The Malayanrace, as a whole, undoubtedly very closely resembles the East Asianpopulations, from Siam to Mandchouria. I was much struck with this, whenin the island of Bali I saw Chinese traders who had adopted the costumeof that country, and who could then hardly be distinguished from Malays;and, on the other hand, I have seen natives of Java who, as far asphysiognomy was concerned, would pass very well for Chinese. Then, again, we have the most typical of the Malayan tribes inhabiting aportion of the Asiatic continent itself, together with those greatislands which, possessing the same species of large Mammalia withthe adjacent parts of the continent, have in all probability formed aconnected portion of Asia during the human period. The Negritos are, nodoubt, quite a distinct race from the Malay; but yet, as some of theminhabit a portion of the continent, and others the Andaman Islandsin the Bay of Bengal, they must be considered to have had, in allprobability, an Asiatic rather than a Polynesian origin. Now, turning to the eastern parts of the Archipelago, I find, bycomparing my own observations with those of the most trustworthytravellers and missionaries, that a race identical in all its chieffeatures with the Papuan, is found in all the islands as far east as theFijis; beyond this the brown Polynesian race, or some intermediate type, is spread everywhere over the Pacific. The descriptions of these latteroften agree exactly with the characters of the brown indigenes of Giloloand Ceram. It is to be especially remarked that the brown and the black Polynesianraces closely resemble each other. Their features are almost identical, so that portraits of a New Zealander or Otaheitan will often serveaccurately to represent a Papuan or Timorese, the darker colour and morefrizzly hair of the latter being the only differences. They are bothtall races. They agree in their love of art and the style oftheir decorations. They are energetic, demonstrative, joyous, andlaughter-loving, and in all these particulars they differ widely fromthe Malay. I believe, therefore, that the numerous intermediate forms that occuramong the countless islands of the Pacific, are not merely the result ofa mixture of these races, but are, to some extent, truly intermediate ortransitional; and that the brown and the black, the Papuan, the nativesof Gilolo and Ceram, the Fijian, the inhabitants of the Sandwich Islandsand those of New Zealand, are all varying forms of one great Oceanic orPolynesian race. It is, however, quite possible, and perhaps probable, that the brownPolynesians were originally the produce of a mixture of Malays, orsome lighter coloured Mongol race with the dark Papuans; but if so, the intermingling took place at such a remote epoch, and has beenso assisted by the continued influence of physical conditions and ofnatural selection, leading to the preservation of a special type suitedto those conditions, that it has become a fixed and stable race with nosigns of mongrelism, and showing such a decided preponderance of Papuancharacter, that it can best be classified as a modification of thePapuan type. The occurrence of a decided Malay element in the Polynesianlanguages, has evidently nothing to do with any such ancient physicalconnexion. It is altogether a recent phenomenon, originating in theroaming habits of the chief Malay tribes; and this is proved by the factthat we find actual modern words of the Malay and Javanese languages inuse in Polynesia, so little disguised by peculiarities of pronunciationas to be easily recognisable--not mere Malay roots only to be detectedby the elaborate researches of the philologist, as would certainly havebeen the case had their introduction been as remote as the origin ofa very distinct race--a race as different from the Malay in mental andmoral, as it is in physical characters. As bearing upon this question it is important to point out the harmonywhich exists, between the line of separation of the human races of theArchipelago and that of the animal productions of the same country, which I have already so fully explained and illustrated. The dividinglines do not, it is true, exactly agree; but I think it is a remarkablefact, and something more than a mere coincidence, that they shouldtraverse the same district and approach each other so closely as theydo. If, however, I am right in my supposition that the region where thedividing line of the Indo-Malayan and Austro-Malayan regions of zoologycan now be drawn, was formerly occupied by a much wider sea than atpresent, and if man existed on the earth at that period, we shall seegood reason why the races inhabiting the Asiatic and Pacific areasshould now meet and partially intermingle in the vicinity of thatdividing line. It has recently been maintained by Professor Huxley, that the Papuansare more closely allied to the negroes of Africa than to any other race. The resemblance both in physical and mental characteristics had oftenstruck myself, but the difficulties in the way of accepting it asprobable or possible, have hitherto prevented me front giving fullweight to those resemblances. Geographical, zoological, and ethnologicalconsiderations render it almost certain, that if these two races everhad a common origin, it could only have been at a period far more remotethan any which has yet been assigned to the antiquity of the human race. And even if their lenity could be proved, it would in no way affect myargument for the close affinity of the Papuan and Polynesian races, andthe radical distinctness of both from the Malay. Polynesia is pre-eminently an area of subsidence, and its greatwidespread groups of coral-reefs mark out the position of formercontinents and islands. The rich and varied, yet strangely isolatedproductions of Australia and New Guinea, also indicate an extensivecontinent where such specialized forms were developed. The races ofmen now inhabiting these countries are, therefore, most probably thedescendants of the races which inhabited these continents and islands. This is the most simple and natural supposition to make. And if we findany signs of direct affinity between the inhabitants of any other partof the world and those of Polynesia, it by no means follows that thelatter were derived from the former. For as, when a Pacific continentexisted, the whole geography of the earth's surface would probably bevery different from what it now is, the present continents may not thenhave risen above the ocean, and, when they were formed at a subsequentepoch, may have derived some of their inhabitants from the Polynesianarea itself. It is undoubtedly true that there are proofs of extensivemigrations among the Pacific islands, which have led to community oflanguage from the sandwich group to New Zealand; but there are no proofswhatever of recent migration from any surrounding country to Polynesia, since there is no people to be found elsewhere sufficiently resemblingthe Polynesian race in their chief physical and mental characteristics. If the past history of these varied races is obscure and uncertain, the future is no less so. The true Polynesians, inhabiting the farthestisles of the Pacific, are no doubt doomed to an early extinction. But the more numerous Malay race seems well adapted to survive as thecultivator of the soil, even when his country and government have passedinto the hands of Europeans. If the tide of colonization should beturned to New Guinea, there can be little doubt of the early extinctionof the Papuan race. A warlike and energetic people, who will not submitto national slavery or to domestic servitude, must disappear before thewhite man as surely as do the wolf and the tiger. I have now concluded my task. I have given, in more or less detail, a sketch of my eight years' wanderings among the largest and the mostluxuriant islands which adorn our earth's surface. I have endeavoured toconvey my impressions of their scenery, their vegetation, their animalproductions, and their human inhabitants. I have dwelt at some length onthe varied and interesting problems they offer to the student of nature. Before bidding my reader farewell, I wish to make a few observationson a subject of yet higher interest and deeper importance, which thecontemplation of savage life has suggested, and on which I believe thatthe civilized can learn something from the savage man. We most of us believe that we, the higher races have progressed andare progressing. If so, there must be some state of perfection, someultimate goal, which we may never reach, but to which all true progressmust bring nearer. What is this ideally perfect social state towardswhich mankind ever has been, and still is tending? Our best thinkersmaintain, that it is a state of individual freedom and self-government, rendered possible by the equal development and just balance of theintellectual, moral, and physical parts of our nature, --a state in whichwe shall each be so perfectly fitted for a social existence, by knowingwhat is right, and at the same time feeling an irresistible impulse todo what we know to be right. , that all laws and all punishments shallbe unnecessary. In such a state every man would have a sufficientlywell-balanced intellectual organization, to understand the moral law inall its details, and would require no other motive but the free impulsesof his own nature to obey that law. Now it is very remarkable, that among people in a very low stage ofcivilization, we find some approach to such a perfect social state. Ihave lived with communities of savages in South America and in the East, who have no laws or law courts but the public opinion of the villagefreely expressed. Each man scrupulously respects the rights of hisfellow, and any infraction of those rights rarely or never takes place. In such a community, all are nearly equal. There are cone of those widedistinctions, of education and ignorance, wealth and poverty, masterand servant, which are the product of our civilization; there is none ofthat wide-spread division of labour, which, while it increaseswealth, products also conflicting interests; there is not that severecompetition and struggle for existence, or for wealth, which the densepopulation of civilized countries inevitably creates. All incitements togreat crimes are thus wanting, and petty ones are repressed, partly bythe influence of public opinion, but chiefly by that natural sense ofjustice and of his neighbour's right, which seems to be, in some degree, inherent in every race of man. Now, although we have progressed vastly beyond the savage state inintellectual achievements, we have not advanced equally in morals. Itis true that among those classes who have no wants that cannot be easilysupplied, and among whom public opinion has great influence; the rightsof others are fully respected. It is true, also, that we have vastlyextended the sphere of those rights, and include within them all thebrotherhood of man. But it is not too much to say, that the mass of ourpopulations have not at all advanced beyond the savage code of morals, and have in many cases sunk below it. A deficient morality is thegreat blot of modern civilization, and the greatest hindrance to trueprogress. During the last century, and especially in the last thirty years, ourintellectual and material advancement has been too quickly achieved forus to reap the full benefit of it. Our mastery over the forces of maturehas led to a rapid growth of population, and a vast accumulation ofwealth; but these have brought with them such au amount of poverty andcrime, and have fostered the growth of so much sordid feeling and somany fierce passions, that it may well be questioned, whether the mentaland moral status of our population has not on the average been lowered, and whether the evil has not overbalanced the good. Compared with ourwondrous progress in physical science and its practical applications, our system of government, of administering justice, of nationaleducation, and our whole social and moral organization, remains in astate of barbarism. [See note next page. ] And if we continue to devoteour chief energies to the utilizing of our knowledge the laws of naturewith the view of still further extending our commerce and our wealth, the evils which necessarily accompany these when too eagerly pursued, may increase to such gigantic dimensions as to be beyond our power toalleviate. We should now clearly recognise the fact, that the wealth and knowledgeand culture of the few do not constitute civilization, and do not ofthemselves advance us towards the "perfect social state. " Our vastmanufacturing system, our gigantic commerce, our crowded towns andcities, support and continually renew a mass of human misery andcrime absolutely greater than has ever existed before. They create andmaintain in life-long labour an ever-increasing army, whose lot is themore hard to bear, by contrast with the pleasures, the comforts, and theluxury which they see everywhere around them, but which they can neverhope to enjoy; and who, in this respect, are worse off than the savagein the midst of his tribe. This is not a result to boast of, or to be satisfied with; and, until there is a more general recognition of this failure of ourcivilization--resulting mainly from our neglect to train and developmore thoroughly the sympathetic feelings and moral faculties ofour nature, and to allow them a larger share of influence in ourlegislation, our commerce, and our whole social organization--we shallnever, as regards the whole community, attain to any real or importantsuperiority over the better class of savages. This is the lesson I have been taught by my observations of uncivilizedman. I now bid my readers--Farewell! NOTE. THOSE who believe that our social condition approaches perfection, willthink the above word harsh and exaggerated, but it seems to me the onlyword that can be truly applied to us. We are the richest country in theworld, and yet cue-twentieth of our population are parish paupers, andone-thirtieth known criminals. Add to these, the criminals who escapedetection; and the poor who live mainly on private charity, (which, according to Dr. Hawkesley, expends seven millions sterling annuallyis London alone, ) and we may be sure that more than ONE-TENTH of ourpopulation are actually Paupers and Criminals. Both these classes wekeep idle or at unproductive labour, and each criminal costs us annuallyin our prisons more than the wages of an honest agricultural labourer. We allow over a hundred thousand persons known to have no meansof subsistence but by crime, to remain at large and prey upon thecommunity, and many thousand children to grow up before our eyes inignorance and vice, to supply trained criminals for the next generation. This, in a country which boasts of its rapid increase in wealth, of itsenormous commerce and gigantic manufactures, of its mechanical skilland scientific knowledge, of its high civilization and its pureChristianity, --I can but term a state of social barbarism. We also boastof our love of justice, and that the law protects rich and poor alike, yet we retain money fines as a punishment, and make the very firststeps to obtain justice a matter of expense--in both cases a barbarousinjustice, or denial of justice to the poor. Again, our laws render itpossible, that, by mere neglect of a legal form, and contrary to his ownwish and intention, a man's property may all go to a stranger, and hisown children be left destitute. Such cases have happened through theoperation of the laws of inheritance of landed property; and that suchunnatural injustice is possible among us, shows that we are in a stateof social barbarism. One more example to justify my use of the term, andI have done. We permit absolute possession of the soil of our country, with no legal rights of existence on the soil, to the vast majoritywho do not possess it. A great landholder may legally convert his wholeproperty into a forest or a hunting-ground, and expel every human beingwho has hitherto lived upon it. In a thickly-populated country likeEngland, where every acre has its owner and its occupier, this is apower of legally destroying his fellow-creatures; and that such apower should exist, and be exercised by individuals, in however small adegree, indicates that, as regards true social science, we are still ina state of barbarism.