Читать книгу In the Andamans and Nicobars - C. Boden Kloss - Страница 17

Table of Contents

Gunboat Tours—South Andaman—Rutland Island—Navigation—Landing-place—Native Camp—Natives—Jungle—Birds—Appearance of the Natives—Our Guests—Native Women: Decorations and Absurd Appearance—Trials of Photography—The Village—Food—Bows, Arrows, and Utensils—Barter—Coiffure—Fauna—Water—New Species.

After leaving Port Blair, where we got up anchor at half-past three in the morning to make the most of a light breeze, we sailed slowly along the coast of South Andaman, until, rounding the point of the south-east corner, we came to anchor in Macpherson Strait.

Just outside the port we met the R.I.M.S. Elphinstone returning from a census-taking visit to the Nicobars; three or four times a year she makes a ten days' trip round the group, stopping at a few of the more important places; and these cruises are almost the only thing that brings home to the natives the fact that they are under the British raj.

For some distance south of the Settlement the land consists of undulating grassy hills, dotted with coco palms, and streaked by gullies, in which dark clumps of jungle still remain. It is an ideal country for game, and some years ago hog-deer were introduced; but, although they have multiplied, they are very rarely seen, and have afforded but little sport.

Nearer the strait, the hills by the coast are still covered with forest; and between the stretches of sandy shore at their feet grow luxuriant thickets of mangroves.

ANDAMANESE SHELTER.

Rutland Island, rising on the east in tall precipitous cliffs, on the north slopes gently to the strait, which on both sides is bordered by alternate tracts of yellow beach and bright green mangrove.

We hauled round Bird's Nest Cape—a bare rocky headland of serpentine, still producing those edible delicacies which are responsible for the name—and, with a man aloft to con a passage along the coral-reef, carefully avoided a rock near mid-channel, and took up a berth in quiet waters about a mile from the entrance of the strait.

When sailing along little known shores, especially in the tropics, a look-out man should always be stationed at the masthead, for from that place dangers of reef and rock unnoticed from the deck are plainly visible. Year by year coral-reefs increase, and banks alter so greatly that entire reliance cannot be placed on the chart, even though it be of comparatively recent date.

We landed on South Andaman in a little bay, whose waters lapped a beach of golden sand. It was, as usual, nearly filled with coral, but fortunately the tide was never so low that we could not land directly on the shore. To left and right the land rose in gentle hills, on the one hand forest, and on the other grass-clothed, but beyond the centre, where it was flat, lay an expanse of tangled swamp.

Although their tracks, made since the last high tide, ran all along the beach, we saw no natives then or later; but just within the bush we found an old camping-place—cold ashes, heaps of broken shells, and a dilapidated hut about 6 feet square and high, made of light branches stuck in the ground, with tops drawn together and covered with a few palm leaves laid stem downwards.

That night a fire shone brightly on the beach of Rutland Island; and so next morning, while Abbott in the dinghy went north to make the round of the traps, I, with a crew in the whaleboat, rowed across the strait, and when we were within two or three hundred yards of the shore, a tall native ran down the beach and commenced waving a flag on the end of a long pole.

As the sea was pounding heavily on the reef, a couple of men were left in the boat to keep it off shore, and the rest of us, jumping overboard, waded to the beach. Two or three other natives now arrived, and we showed our good intentions by slapping them on their backs, with broad grins, to the latter part of which process they responded most heartily.

It was too early in the day to get to work with the camera, so, after fetching my gun from the boat, I struck into the jungle and spent an hour with the more clothed of its inhabitants.

The jungle was of the kind that may perhaps be best described as forest: that is to say, it was fairly free from the usual superabundance of rattans, lianas, and all those creeping growths which close the intervals among the trees with a thorny network of vegetation, and compel the intruder to go where he can and not where he will. Mighty trees towered upwards, branches interlacing and shutting out the sun, while down below, in the aisles of tree-trunks, stood the smaller brethren and the saplings, waiting the fall of some neighbouring giant to give them in turn room to lift their branches towards the light.

Little blue fly-catchers, utterly fearless, flitted about in the lower bushes, and, higher up, golden-billed grackles hopped or flew from branch to branch, their loud clear whistles resounding through the forest, whilst from the tops of the biggest trees came the deep "boom, boom," of the great fruit-pigeons. However, although birds were fairly numerous, I got but few prizes—best among them, perhaps, a pretty little olive-green and yellow minivet (Pericrocrotus andamanensis), and a black racquet-tailed drongo (Dissemuroides andamanensis), a bird whose flight, as its long tail feathers stretch out behind, is extremely graceful, and who possessed one of the sweetest combination of notes heard in the jungle.

With such specimens in my bag, I presently came on a little stream, and after following its course to the sea, tramped along the shore, and so came back once more to the boat.

A large fire had been made on the beach, and near it, in spite of the hot sun, the men sat fraternising with the members of the native party—five men and boys, three women, and three children.

In this little company there proved to be the three biggest men we saw among the Andamanese; in height, they stood 5 feet 4¾ inches, 5 feet 3¼ inches, and 5 feet 2 inches respectively.[10] Although possibly a little weak proportionately in the legs, where the skin covering the knee was so thickened and corrugated as to almost resemble callosities, the members of the party were well built and not ungraceful, but spoilt in most cases by a varying degree of distension of the abdomen: this state of things is caused by the immense amount of food they will, when possible, consume at a sitting; but the striking appearance of the eldest matron of the tribe was a more or less temporary feature, principally due to the interesting condition in which she was.

It was a pleasure to photograph these people, for they submitted to the operation most docilely; and when, after taking a series of pictures, I gave a graphic invitation to breakfast—pointing to my mouth, and rubbing that portion of the figure situated in the middle front—the men of the party all accepted the offer, and, reinforced by them, we returned to the Terrapin.

Arrived on board, they were at first rather inquisitive, but after inspecting the schooner and spending a little time below watching us at work, they went forward, and seemed quite comfortable amongst the men. As soon as it could be prepared, a large pailful of boiled rice was placed before them, and this was finished without any sign of flagging being shown. What a convenience the absence of tight clothing must be at such times!

The next few hours were passed by them lying on deck in the sun, where, out of regard for their feelings, we left them undisturbed, except for the few moments during which they were measured. To a second bucket of rice, offered before they left, they failed to do proper justice, but took what remained ashore, where the women probably had their share.

We ran across the strait under canvas, before a light breeze, and the sail was a source of huge amusement to all but the youngest of the party, who was intermittently busied in returning to daylight all the food he had previously consumed.

Following what seems a wide-spread custom, the ladies ashore, had, to some extent, got themselves up for the reception of visitors. Although the previous dress—a small bunch of grass slung from the waist by a cord—fulfilled all requirements, they were now further decorated with an almost complete coating of ochreous clay, through which black eyes, nose, and lips showed below a bald pate with ludicrous effect. The babies, too, had been glorified in the same manner, and we felt quite bashful and shabby in our old pyjamas.

So absurdly comical did they appear, that it was only by much perseverance I was able to photograph them again, for whenever I attempted to adjust the focus, the picture on the screen gave rise to such fits of laughter that the camera was in danger of being upset. Even the boat's crew, unemotional Malays as they were, lay about, doubled up in paroxysms of laughter, which, increased by the looks of wonder and the ingenuous smiles with which my subjects persisted in regarding us, continued until the point of sheer exhaustion was reached. The old lady of the party and myself became great friends, and when on our departure I presented her with my handkerchief (all that I then had left) as a souvenir of our visit—as I gravely tied it about her head, I am sure we made an impressive picture.

The huts, or cháng, were four in number, and stood side by side just within the jungle, with the fronts facing inland. On a sloping framework of thin branches, raised about 4 feet at the upper edge, and covering a piece of ground 6 feet square, were laid sufficient palm leaves to make a rain-proof shelter. The front and sides were left completely unprotected, the earth below was covered with more palm leaves, and a small fire was burning on the ground below an upper corner of each roof.

The only food they appeared to be supplied with was obtained from the large trees beneath which the camp stood—a small round fruit with a green skin, and a pleasantly-flavoured pulpy flesh; a large quantity of dark-coloured beeswax was lying about, so honey was probably plentiful and easily obtained.

By signs, we gave the men to understand that we wished to purchase bows and arrows, and while these were being produced from some hiding-place in the jungle, whither the natives requested us not to accompany them, the women and children regaled themselves with a parcel of sugar which had been brought for their special benefit.

We eagerly bought up all visible belongings that could be carried off. Among these were small pots made from the joints of the giant bamboo, conical baskets of rattan fibre, and large buckets carved from solid wood, any cracks being sewn up with rattan and luted with wax; all these were furnished with slings for ease in carrying.

The bows were not of the kind regarded as typical of the Andamanese, but are fashioned in the style to which we are accustomed at home, with this peculiarity—that instead of the rounded side or "belly" being nearest the string, it is away from the archer when the weapon is held ready for use. They are about 5 feet long, and of a material resembling rosewood; the tips are cut away, so as to leave a shoulder for the string to rest on, and below these points the bow is whipped for an inch with fine cord. The string is of twisted fibre, with a loop at either end, made by taking a half-hitch and then twisting in the loose end for a short distance.

Arrows have the shaft of bamboo, to which is attached a long point of hard wood, and the joint is whipped. Some of the arrows used for fishing are triple-headed. A fairly deep notch is made to receive the bowstring, and the butt of the arrow is tightly scored transversely, with the idea of affording a better grip. The lengths varied from 45 to 66 inches.

While being strung, the bow is held almost vertically, with one end resting on the ground. A foot is then placed on the centre, and the upper end drawn towards the operator until the loop can be slipped over it.

The pull used may be anything between 50 and 60 lbs., and though in the jungle, with their silent step and quality of remaining unseen, the Andamanese are dangerous as enemies, in the open they would be less formidable, for it is doubtful whether their arrows will carry more than a hundred yards, and certainly their shooting, as we ourselves saw, possessed little accuracy at more than a quarter of that distance.

In return for the various articles obtained, we gave an axe, a parang, a file, a number of long French nails, and a quantity of red cotton, with which things they seemed very satisfied; and we left behind, as a parting gift, a good supply of rice and leaf tobacco.

The dress of the women I have already described: their heads were bald, entirely shaved of hair. The men were only partially cropped, and what hair was left was short, and had much the appearance of a small skull-cap. Those who were ornamented with clay had applied it in long stripes down arms and body, and across the face, while for further decoration some wore a cord about the waist, or armlets of fibre tightly fastened round the biceps.

We found the shores of South Andaman a splendid locality for collecting. One morning in particular I remember. On landing we saw all about the beach the tracks of numerous pigs that had come down in the night to obtain a meal of the trepang, crabs, and molluscs left exposed by the ebb tide; and I had not been five minutes ashore before I knocked over an equal number of beautiful parrots (P. faciatus), a species we found everywhere very common throughout the Andamans.

A little group of coco palms, in a corner of the bay, marks a spring from which we obtained good water, and adjacent stood a small leafless tree, whose branches, however, bore quantities of a brilliant red blossom (Ixora, sp.?). To this came birds in such numbers that I remained beneath it all the morning. Here I obtained our first specimens of the Andaman sun-bird, a tiny thing with olive back, blue throat, and yellow breast, and also one of the most beautiful of kingfishers (Halcyon saturatior), a glorious combination of bright chestnut, white, and vivid blues that one could never tire of admiring. Common was the little crested bulbul, clothed in black and white, with crimson ear-coverts, and equally so the brilliant-plumaged oriole, while the sleek-looking Andaman myna, soberly feathered in black and white, occurred in no small numbers. Indeed, birds came and went so quickly, that I was often hard put to it to select the proper cartridge, and frequently three or four specimens at a time lay waiting to be stowed away in the game bag.

Time and place combined to make a naturalist's paradise, and I did not desist from collecting until my stock of wool, paper, and ammunition were exhausted. It must not be thought, however, that such an experience is in any way common, for it is seldom that the work is so easy or the harvest so large.

Amongst the birds obtained on South Andaman was a pigeon that has since proved to be new (Osmotreron, sp. nov.); while, as far as mammals were concerned, rats of two species—one hitherto unrecorded, Mus taciturnus, sp. nov., and M. andamanensis—were fairly common; and we were fortunate in obtaining a palm-civet, of the species peculiar to the islands, which for several nights had been committing depredations along the line of traps; and also a single example of a new shrew (Crocidura andamanensis).