The Malay Archipelago Volume 1

b >> by Alfred Russell Wallace >> The Malay Archipelago Volume 1

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In the eastern part of Java, at Kediri and in Malang, there are
equally abundant traces of antiquity, but the buildings
themselves have been mostly destroyed. Sculptured figures,
however, abound; and the ruins of forts, palaces, baths,
aqueducts, and temples, can be everywhere traced. It is
altogether contrary to the plan of this book to describe what I
have not myself seen; but, having been led to mention them, I
felt bound to do something to call attention to these marvellous
works of art. One is overwhelmed by the contemplation of these
innumerable sculptures, worked with delicacy and artistic feeling
in a hard, intractable, trachytic rock, and all found in one
tropical island. What could have been the state of society, what
the amount of population, what the means of subsistence which
rendered such gigantic works possible, will, perhaps, ever remain
a mystery; and it is a wonderful example of the power of
religious ideas in social life, that in the very country where,
five hundred years ago, these grand works were being yearly
executed, the inhabitants now only build rude houses of bamboo
and thatch, and look upon these relics of their forefathers with
ignorant amazement, as the undoubted productions of giants or of
demons. It is much to be regretted that the Dutch Government does
not take vigorous steps for the preservation of these ruins from
the destroying agency of tropical vegetation; and for the
collection of the fine sculptures which are everywhere scattered
over the land.

Wonosalem is situated about a thousand feet above the sea, but
unfortunately it is at a distance from the forest, and is
surrounded by coffee plantations, thickets of bamboo, and coarse
grasses. It was too far to walk back daily to the forest, and in
other directions I could find no collecting ground for insects.
The place was, however, famous for peacocks, and my boy soon shot
several of these magnificent birds, whose flesh we found to be
tender, white, and delicate, and similar to that of a turkey. The
Java peacock is a different species from that of India, the neck
being covered with scale-like green feathers, and the crest of a
different form; but the eyed train is equally large and equally
beautiful. It is a singular fact in geographical distribution
that the peacock should not be found in Sumatra or Borneo, while
the superb Argus, Fire-backed and Ocellated pheasants of those
islands are equally unknown in Java. Exactly parallel is the fact
that in Ceylon and Southern India, where the peacock abounds,
there are none of the splendid Lophophori and other gorgeous
pheasants which inhabit Northern India. It would seem as if the
peacock can admit of no rivals in its domain. Were these birds
rare in their native country, and unknown alive in Europe, they
would assuredly be considered as the true princes of the
feathered tribes, and altogether unrivalled for stateliness and
beauty. As it is, I suppose scarcely anyone if asked to fix upon
the most beautiful bird in the world would name the peacock, any
more than the Papuan savage or the Bugis trader would fix upon
the bird of paradise for the same honour.

Three days after my arrival at Wonosalem, my friend Mr. Ball came
to pay me a visit. He told me that two evenings before, a boy had
been killed and eaten by a tiger close to Modjo-agong. He was
riding on a cart drawn by bullocks, and was coming home about
dusk on the main road; and when not half a mile from the village
a tiger sprang upon him, carried him off into the jungle close
by, and devoured him. Next morning his remains were discovered,
consisting only of a few mangled bones. The Waidono had got
together about seven hundred men, and were in chase of the
animal, which, I afterwards heard, they found and killed. They
only use spears when in pursuit of a tiger in this way. They
surround a large tract of country, and draw gradually together
until the animal is enclosed in a compact ring of armed men. When
he sees there is no escape he generally makes a spring, and is
received on a dozen spears, and almost instantly stabbed to
death. The skin of an animal thus killed is, of course,
worthless, and in this case the skull, which I had begged Mr.
Ball to secure for me, was hacked to pieces to divide the teeth,
which are worn as charms.

After a week at Wonosalem, I returned to the foot of the
mountain, to a village named Djapannan, which was surrounded by
several patches of forest, and seemed altogether pretty well
spited to my pursuits. The chief of the village had prepared two
small bamboo rooms on one side of his own courtyard to
accommodate me, and seemed inclined to assist me as much as he
could. The weather was exceedingly hot and dry, no rain having
fallen for several months, and there was, in consequence, a great
scarcity of insects, and especially of beetles. I therefore
devoted myself chiefly to obtaining a good set of the birds, and
succeeded in making a tolerable collection. All the peacocks we
had hitherto shot had had short or imperfect tails, but I now
obtained two magnificent specimens more than seven feet long, one
of which I preserved entire, while I kept the train only attached
to the tail of two or three others. When this bird is seen
feeding on the ground, it appears wonderful how it can rise into
the air with such a long and cumbersome train of feathers. It
does so however with great ease, by running quickly for a short
distance, and then rising obliquely; and will fly over trees of a
considerable height. I also obtained here a specimen of the rare
green jungle-fowl (Gallus furcatus), whose back and neck are
beautifully scaled with bronzy feathers, and whose smooth-edged
oval comb is of a violet purple colour, changing to green at the
base. It is also remarkable in possessing a single large wattle
beneath its throat, brightly coloured in three patches of red,
yellow, and blue. The common jungle-cock (Gallus bankiva) was
also obtained here. It is almost exactly like a common game-cock,
but the voice is different, being much shorter and more abrupt;
hence its native name is Bekeko. Six different kinds of
woodpeckers and four kingfishers were found here, the fine
hornbill, Buceros lunatus, more than four feet long, and the
pretty little lorikeet, Loriculus pusillus, scarcely more than as
many inches.

One morning, as I was preparing and arranging specimens, I was
told there was to be a trial; and presently four or five men came
in and squatted down on a mat under the audience-shed in the
court. The chief then came in with his clerk, and sat down
opposite them. Each spoke in turn, telling his own tale, and then
I found that those who first entered were the prisoner, accuser,
policemen, and witness, and that the prisoner was indicated
solely by having a loose piece of cord twilled around his wrists,
but not tied. It was a case of robbery, and after the evidence
was given, and a few questions had been asked by the chief, the
accused said a few words, and then sentence was pronounced, which
was a fine. The parties then got up and walked away together,
seeming quite friendly; and throughout there was nothing in the
manner of any one present indicating passion or ill-feeling--a
very good illustration of the Malayan type of character.

In a month's collecting at Wonosaleni and Djapannan I accumulated
ninety-eight species of birds, but a most miserable lot of
insects. I then determined to leave East Java and try the more
moist and luxuriant districts at the western extremity of the
island. I returned to Sourabaya by water, in a roomy boat which
brought myself, servants, and baggage at one-fifth the expense it
had cost me to come to Modjo-kerto. The river has been rendered
navigable by being carefully banked up, but with the usual effect
of rendering the adjacent country liable occasionally to severe
floods. An immense traffic passes down this river; and at a lock
we passed through, a mile of laden boats were waiting two or
three deep, which pass through in their turn six at a time.

A few days afterwards I went by steamer to Batavia, where I
stayed about a week at the chief hotel, while I made arrangements
for a trip into the interior. The business part of the city is
near the harbour, but the hotels and all the residences of the
officials and European merchants are in a suburb two miles off,
laid out in wide streets and squares so as to cover a great
extent of ground. This is very inconvenient for visitors, as the
only public conveyances are handsome two-horse carriages, whose
lowest charge is five guilders (8s. 4d.) for half a day, so that
an hour's business in the morning and a visit in the evening
costs 16s. 8d. a day for carriage hire alone.

Batavia agrees very well with Mr. Money's graphic account of it,
except that his "clear canals" were all muddy, and his "smooth
gravel drives" up to the houses were one and all formed of coarse
pebbles, very painful to walk upon, and hardly explained by the
fact that in Batavia everybody drives, as it can hardly be
supposed that people never walk in their gardens. The Hôtel des
Indes was very comfortable, each visitor having a sitting-room
and bedroom opening on a verandah, where he can take his morning
coffee and afternoon tea. In the centre of the quadrangle is a
building containing a number of marble baths always ready for
use; and there is an excellent table d'hôte breakfast at ten, and
dinner at six, for all which there is a moderate charge per day.

I went by coach to Buitenzorg, forty miles inland and about a
thousand feet above the sea, celebrated for its delicious climate
and its Botanical Gardens. With the latter I was somewhat
disappointed. The walks were all of loose pebbles, making any
lengthened wanderings about them very tiring and painful under a
tropical sun. The gardens are no doubt wonderfully rich in
tropical and especially in Malayan plants, but there is a great
absence of skillful laying-out; there are not enough men to keep
the place thoroughly in order, and the plants themselves are
seldom to be compared for luxuriance and beauty to the same
species grown in our hothouses. This can easily be explained. The
plants can rarely be placed in natural or very favourable
conditions. The climate is either too hot or too cool, too moist
or too dry, for a large proportion of them, and they seldom get
the exact quantity of shade or the right quality of soil to suit
them. In our stoves these varied conditions can be supplied to
each individual plant far better than in a large garden, where
the fact that the plants are most of them growing in or near
their native country is supposed to preclude, the necessity of
giving them much individual attention. Still, however, there is
much to admire here. There are avenues of stately palms, and
clumps of bamboos of perhaps fifty different kinds; and an
endless variety of tropical shrubs and trees with strange and
beautiful foliage. As a change from the excessive heat of
Batavia, Buitenzorg is a delightful abode. It is just elevated
enough to have deliciously cool evenings and nights, but not so
much as to require any change of clothing; and to a person long
resident in the hotter climate of the plains, the air is always
fresh and pleasant, and admits of walking at almost any hour of
the day. The vicinity is most picturesque and luxuriant, and the
great volcano of Gunung Salak, with its truncated and jagged
summit, forms a characteristic background to many of the
landscapes. A great mud eruption took place in 1699, since which
date the mountain has been entirely inactive.

On leaving Buitenzorg, I had coolies to carry my baggage and a
horse for myself, both to be changed every six or seven miles.
The road rose gradually, and after the first stage the hills
closed in a little on each side, forming a broad valley; and the
temperature was so cool and agreeable, and the country so
interesting, that I preferred walking. Native villages imbedded
in fruit trees, and pretty villas inhabited by planters or
retired Dutch officials, gave this district a very pleasing and
civilized aspect; but what most attracted my attention was the
system of terrace-cultivation, which is here universally adopted,
and which is, I should think, hardly equalled in the world. The
slopes of the main valley, and of its branches, were everywhere
cut in terraces up to a considerable height, and when they wound
round the recesses of the hills produced all the effect of
magnificent amphitheatres. Hundreds of square miles of country
are thus terraced, and convey a striking idea of the industry of
the people and the antiquity of their civilization. These
terraces are extended year by year as the population increases,
by the inhabitants of each village working in concert under the
direction of their chiefs; and it is perhaps by this system of
village culture alone, that such extensive terracing and
irrigation has been rendered possible. It was probably introduced
by the Brahmins from India, since in those Malay countries where
there is no trace of a previous occupation by a civilized people,
the terrace system is unknown. I first saw this mode of
cultivation in Bali and Lombock, and, as I shall have to describe
it in some detail there (see Chapter X.), I need say no more
about it in this place, except that, owing to the finer outlines
and greater luxuriance of the country in West Java, it produces
there the most striking and picturesque effect. The lower slopes
of the mountains in Java possess such a delightful climate and
luxuriant soil; living is so cheap and life and property are so
secure, that a considerable number of Europeans who have been
engaged in Government service, settle permanently in the country
instead of returning to Europe. They are scattered everywhere
throughout the more accessible parts of the island, and tend
greatly to the gradual improvement of the native population, and
to the continued peace and prosperity of the whole country.

Twenty miles beyond Buitenzorg the post road passes over the
Megamendong Mountain, at an elevation of about 4,500 feet. The
country is finely mountainous, and there is much virgin forest
still left upon the hills, together with some of the oldest
coffee-plantations in Java, where the plants have attained almost
the dimensions of forest trees. About 500 feet below the summit
level of the pass there is a road-keeper's hut, half of which I
hired for a fortnight, as the country looked promising for making
collections. I almost immediately found that the productions of
West Java were remarkably different from those of the eastern
part of the island; and that all the more remarkable and
characteristic Javanese birds and insects were to be found here.
On the very first day, my hunters obtained for me the elegant
yellow and green trogon (Harpactes Reinwardti), the gorgeous
little minivet flycatcher (Pericrocotus miniatus), which looks
like a flame of fire as it flutters among the bushes, and the
rare and curious black and crimson oriole (Analcipus
sanguinolentus), all of these species which are found only in
Java, and even seem to be confined to its western portion.

In a week I obtained no less than twenty-four species of birds,
which I had not found in the east of the island, and in a
fortnight this number increased to forty species, almost all of
which are peculiar to the Javanese fauna. Large and handsome
butterflies were also tolerably abundant. In dark ravines, and
occasionally on the roadside, I captured the superb Papilio
arjuna, whose wings seem powdered with grains of golden green,
condensed into bands and moon-shaped spots; while the elegantly-
formed Papilio coon was sometimes to be found fluttering slowly
along the shady pathways (see figure at page 201). One day a boy
brought me a butterfly between his fingers, perfectly unhurt. He
had caught it as it was sitting with wings erect, sucking up the
liquid from a muddy spot by the roadside. Many of the finest
tropical butterflies have this habit, and they are generally so
intent upon their meal that they can be easily be reached and
captured. It proved to be the rare and curious Charaxes kadenii,
remarkable for having on each hind wing two curved tails like a
pair of callipers. It was the only specimen I ever saw, and is
still the only representative of its kind in English collections.

In the east of Java I had suffered from the intense heat and
drought of the dry season, which had been very inimical to insect
life. Here I had got into the other extreme of damp, wet, and
cloudy weather, which was equally unfavourable. During the month
which I spent in the interior of West Java, I never had a really
hot fine, day throughout. It rained almost every afternoon, or
dense mists came down from the mountains, which equally stopped
collecting, and rendered it most difficult to dry my specimens,
so that I really had no chance of getting a fair sample of
Javanese entomology.

By far the most interesting incident in my visit to Java was a
trip to the summit of the Pangerango and Gedeh mountains; the
former an extinct volcanic cone about 10,000 feet high, the
latter an active crater on a lower portion of the same mountain
range. Tchipanas, about four miles over the Megamendong Pass, is
at the foot of the mountain. A small country house for the
Governor-General and a branch of the Botanic Gardens are situated
here, the keeper of which accommodated me with a bed for a night.
There are many beautiful trees and shrubs planted here, and large
quantities of European vegetables are grown for the Governor-
General's table. By the side of a little torrent that bordered
the garden, quantities of orchids were cultivated, attached to
the trunks of trees, or suspended from the branches, forming an
interesting open air orchid-house. As I intended to stay two or
three nights on the mountain, I engaged two coolies to carry my
baggage, and with my two hunters we started early the next
morning.

The first mile was over open country, which brought us to the
forest that covers the whole mountain from a height of about
5,000 feet. The next mile or two was a tolerably steep ascent
through a grand virgin forest, the trees being of great size, and
the undergrowth consisting of fine herbaceous plants, tree-ferns,
and shrubby vegetation. I was struck by the immense number of
ferns that grew by the side of the road. Their variety seemed
endless, and I was continually stopping to admire some new and
interesting forms. I could now well understand what I had been
told by the gardener, that 300 species had been found on this one
mountain. A little before noon we reached the small plateau of
Tjiburong, at the foot of the steeper part of the mountain, where
there is a plank-house for the accommodation of travellers. Close
by is a picturesque waterfall and a curious cavern, which I had
not time to explore. Continuing our ascent the road became
narrow, rugged and steep, winding zigzag up the cone, which is
covered with irregular masses of rock, and overgrown with a dense
luxuriant but less lofty vegetation. We passed a torrent of water
which is not much lower than the boiling point, and has a most
singular appearance as it foams over its rugged bed, sending up
clouds of steam, and often concealed by the overhanging herbage
of ferns and lycopodia, which here thrive with more luxuriance
than elsewhere.

At about 7,500 feet we came to another hut of open bamboos, at a
place called Kandang Badak, or "Rhinoceros-field," which we were
going to make our temporary abode. Here was a small clearing,
with abundance of tree-ferns and some young plantations of
Cinchona. As there was now a thick mist and drizzling rain, I did
not attempt to go on to the summit that evening, but made two
visits to it during my stay, as well as one to the active crater
of Gedeh. This is a vast semicircular chasm, bounded by black
perpendicular walls of rock, and surrounded by miles of rugged
scoria-covered slopes. The crater itself is not very deep. It
exhibits patches of sulphur and variously-coloured volcanic
products, and emits from several vents continual streams of smoke
and vapour. The extinct cone of Pangerango was to me more
interesting. The summit is an irregular undulating plain with a
low bordering ridge, and one deep lateral chasm. Unfortunately,
there was perpetual mist and rain either above or below us all
the time I was on the mountain; so that I never once saw the
plain below, or had a glimpse of the magnificent view which in
fine weather is to be obtained from its summit. Notwithstanding
this drawback I enjoyed the excursion exceedingly, for it was the
first time I had been high enough on a mountain near the Equator
to watch the change from a tropical to a temperate flora. I will
now briefly sketch these changes as I observed them in Java.

On ascending the mountain, we first meet with temperate forms of
herbaceous plants, so low as 3,000 feet, where strawberries and
violets begin to grow, but the former are tasteless, and the
latter have very small and pale flowers. Weedy composites also
begin to give a European aspect to the wayside herbage. It is
between 2,000 and 5,000 feet that the forests and ravines exhibit
the utmost development of tropical luxuriance and beauty. The
abundance of noble Tree-ferns, sometimes fifty feet high,
contributes greatly to the general effect, since of all the forms
of tropical vegetation they are certainly the most striking and
beautiful. Some of the deep ravines which have been cleared of
large timber are full of them from top to bottom; and where the
road crosses one of these valleys, the view of their feathery
crowns, in varied positions above and below the eye, offers a
spectacle of picturesque beauty never to be forgotten. The
splendid foliage of the broad-leaved Musceae and Zingiberaceae,
with their curious and brilliant flowers; and the elegant and
varied forms of plants allied to Begonia and Melastoma,
continually attract the attention in this region. Filling in the
spaces between the trees and larger plants, on every trunk and
stump and branch, are hosts of Orchids, Ferns and Lycopods, which
wave and hang and intertwine in ever-varying complexity. At about
5,000 feet I first saw horsetails (Equisetum), very like our own
species. At 6,000 feet, raspberries abound, and thence to the
summit of the mountain there are three species of eatable Rubus.
At 7,000 feet Cypresses appear, and the forest trees become
reduced in size, and more covered with mosses and lichens. From
this point upward these rapidly increase, so that the blocks of
rock and scoria that form the mountain slope are completely
hidden in a mossy vegetation. At about 5,000 feet European forms
of plants become abundant. Several species of Honeysuckle, St.
John's-wort, and Guelder-rose abound, and at about 9,000 feet we
first meet with the rare and beautiful Royal Cowslip (Primula
imperialis), which is said to be found nowhere else in the world
but on this solitary mountain summit. It has a tall, stout stem,
sometimes more than three feet high, the root leaves are eighteen
inches long, and it bears several whorls of cowslip-like flowers,
instead of a terminal cluster only. The forest trees, gnarled and
dwarfed to the dimensions of bushes, reach up to the very rim of
the old crater, but do not extend over the hollow on its summit.
Here we find a good deal of open ground, with thickets of shrubby
Artemisias and Gnaphaliums, like our southernwood and cudweed,
but six or eight feet high; while Buttercups, Violets,
Whortleberries, Sow-thistles, Chickweed, white and yellow
Cruciferae Plantain, and annual grasses everywhere abound. Where
there are bushes and shrubs, the St. John's-wort and Honeysuckle
grow abundantly, while the Imperial Cowslip only exhibits its
elegant blossoms under the damp shade of the thickets.

Mr. Motley, who visited the mountain in the dry season, and paid
much attention to botany, gives the following list of genera of
European plants found on or near the summit: Two species of
Violet, three of Ranunculus, three of Impatiens, eight or ten of
Rubus, and species of Primula, Hypericum, Swertia, Convallaria
(Lily of the Valley), Vaccinium (Cranberry), Rhododendron,
Gnaphalium, Polygonum, Digitalis (Foxglove), Lonicera (Honey-
suckle), Plantago (Rib-grass), Artemisia (Wormwood), Lobelia,
Oxalis (Wood-sorrel), Quercus (Oak), and Taxus (Yew). A few of
the smaller plants (Plantago major and lanceolata, Sonchus
oleraceus, and Artemisia vulgaris) are identical with European
species.

The fact of a vegetation so closely allied to that of Europe
occurring on isolated mountain peaks, in an island south of the
Equator, while all the lowlands for thousands of miles around are
occupied by a flora of a totally different character, is very
extraordinary; and has only recently received an intelligible
explanation. The Peak of Teneriffe, which rises to a greater
height and is much nearer to Europe, contains no such Alpine
flora; neither do the mountains of Bourbon and Mauritius. The
case of the volcanic peaks of Java is therefore somewhat
exceptional, but there are several analogous, if not exactly
parallel cases, that will enable us better to understand in what
way the phenomena may possibly have been brought about.

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