Another excursion was made to Ulala Cove, distant about four nautical miles from our anchorage on the W. side of the island of Kamorta, on which occasion our Venetian gondola, specially constructed for similar expeditions, was pressed into the service. The entrance to the cove is about 3/4 of a mile in breadth, after which it expands in an easterly direction with varying width, at the same time sending off arms in every direction. The vegetation is exceedingly luxuriant and plentiful, and along the swampy sh.o.r.e consists mainly of mangrove bushes, which at most points make it almost impracticable to disembark, and impart to the entire bay a dreary, desolate appearance. At the few villages scattered along the sh.o.r.e, most of the natives had taken to flight. On this occasion, however, it was not child-like terror that had driven them away, but an evil conscience, for among the other inhabitants this bay enjoys the sad reputation of having on various occasions ma.s.sacred the crews of small vessels, after having plundered them of everything. So strong is this feeling that the natives of the rest of the Nicobar group, according to their own report, refuse to have anything to do with this ferocious set, and could not by any means be induced to accompany us in their canoes as far as Ulala Cove.

The frigate lay five days in Nangkauri harbour, until the soundings and general survey of this large bay with its numerous branches had been completed, when, on the morning of the 11th March, she sailed, with a fresh breeze from N.W., through the western entrance, which is scarcely a hundred fathoms wide, by fourteen in depth, and is marked by two rocky pinnacles. Directly opposite lies the island of Katchal, thickly wooded to the water-edge, and stretching out long and low, without any marked elevation above sea-level. We now sailed in between these islands of Katchal and Kamorta in a northerly direction towards the islands of Teressa and Bampoka. On the W. side of Kamorta a number of villages were visible; on the N.W. we perceived at several spots natural meadows, while hereabouts the land gradually culminated into the highest point of the island,--a conical hill, rising not very far from the sh.o.r.e, almost entirely without trees, except where near the summit a number of bushes and shrubs nestled in a sort of hollow. Three days were now lost in unsuccessful attempts to make head-way against wind and tide, so that for four mortal days we were tossed about in full view of Bampoka, Teressa, and Chowra, never indeed above twenty miles distant, yet utterly unable to make any one of them. As the time at our disposal for visiting these was exhausted in consequence of this unexpected difficulty, we were, very much to our regret, compelled to forego the satisfaction of setting foot on either of these islands, which, especially Chowra, would have presented a rare opportunity of examining the effect upon tropical races of men of an excess of population. That rather barren island possesses, it seems, more inhabitants than it has the means of subsisting, and appears to be the only spot of the entire Nicobar group where the natives follow industrial avocations. All manner of pottery ware comes from Chowra, so that it would almost seem as though the lamentable spectacle of a superabundant population had given the natives the first impulse towards active industry.

In the island of Teressa the Austrian Expedition had a more special interest, in so far as it is by no means improbable that the adventurous Bolts, who in 1778 visited the Nicobar Archipelago in the Austrian ship _Joseph and Theresa_, named this island, as he already had done in the case of a fort on the coast of Africa, after the renowned Austrian Empress, which, corrupted by the native dialect, had been gradually transformed into Teressa or Tera.s.sa.

At sunrise on the 17th March there loomed on the horizon in a S.E.

direction, first the island of Meroe, then the two small islands of Treis and Track, and lastly the long mountain-chain of Little Nicobar, with the beautiful island of Pulo Milu. The breeze was light, and a current of a velocity of five miles an hour, which ran rushing and seething like a mill-race through the calm sea, so completely checked our progress that the anchor had to be let go. This procured us the very unexpected pleasure of visiting these two small wooded islands. Owing to the heavy surf, we only succeeded in effecting a landing by the a.s.sistance of some natives, whom we happened to fall in with in their canoes off these all but uninhabited islets. Treis is a veritable pigeon island, full of the most various and beautiful species of that bird; nevertheless we could only procure a single specimen of the exceedingly elegant Nicobar dove. Here too it was that the geologist found the first traces of brown coal, which however did not present itself in layers suitable for domestic use.

The same afternoon, with the turn of the tide the current set in our favour, and towards 10 P.M. we reached the roadstead protected to the eastward by the northernmost point of Little Nicobar, to the westward by the island of Pulo Milu, and southward by the mainland of Little Nicobar itself. It is not very large, but it has excellent holding ground, and would be available at all seasons as a harbour of refuge for vessels. As most of the villages of Little Nicobar lie on the N.W. and S. sides of the island, and were with difficulty accessible from our anchorage, it was thought preferable to select the small but beautiful island of Pulo Milu for our visit. Already, while we were lying at anchor in front of the island of Treis, a few natives had come on board the frigate, and had shown much confidence. They possessed all the characteristics of the residents of Nangkauri, and they also spoke, with but slight variations, the same idiom. Only for certain objects, and those, singular to say, articles of the very first necessity, such as cocoa-nut trees, palms, screw-pines, and the like, did they employ different expressions.

The island of Pulo Milu, with its variety of forest-vegetation, and its charming woodland-scenery, displays all the beauty and all the marvels of the tropics. The screw-pine (of the family of _Pandaneae_), that peculiar tree which imparts to the forests of Asia a character so different from those of America, is seen here in exceptional size and majesty. Nowhere have we met with this marvellous tree growing in such luxuriance as on Pulo Milu, where it appears in such quant.i.ties as to resemble a forest, and leaves an impression of such lonely wildness as makes one almost imagine it a remnant of some earlier period of our earth. Wondering at the capricious vagaries of nature, the traveller contemplates these extraordinary trees, which have leaves arranged in spiral order like the dragon trees, trunks like those of palms, boughs like those trees presenting the ordinary characteristics of foliage, fruit-cones like the _conifer[oe]_, and yet have nothing in common with all these plants, so that they form a family by themselves. On Pulo Milu we saw some of these trees with slim smooth stems 40 or 50 feet in height, which are nourished by and supported upon a pile of roots of 10 to 12 feet high, resembling a neatly-finished conical piece of wicker-work, composed of spindle-shaped staves. Many of these roots do not reach the soil, and in this undeveloped state these atmospheric roots a.s.sume the most peculiar shapes. Higher up the same formation is repeated among the branches, from which depend beautiful ma.s.sy fruit-cones, a foot and a half in length, by one in thickness, which, when ripe, are of a splendid orange hue.

The screw-pine is not cultivated in the Nicobar Islands; it grows wild in the utmost luxuriance, and, after the cocoa-nut, is for the natives the most important plant that furnishes them with subsistence. The immense fruit-cones borne by this tree consist of several single wedge-shaped fruits, which when raw are uneatable, but boiled in water, and subjected to pressure, give out a sort of mealy ma.s.s, the "Melori" of the Portuguese, and called by the natives "Larohm," which is also occasionally used with the fleshy interior of the ripe fruit, and forms the daily bread of the islanders. The flavour of the ma.s.s thus prepared strongly resembles that of apple-marmalade, and is by no means unpalatable to Europeans. The woody, brush-like fibres of the fruit which remain behind, after the mealy contents have been squeezed out, are made use of by the natives as natural brooms and brushes, while the dried leaves of the Panda.n.u.s serve instead of paper to surround their cigarettes.

At Pulo Milu, as is yet more markedly the case among the southernmost islands, the cocoa-palm does not grow so luxuriantly as on Kar-Nicobar, and to this circ.u.mstance may be chiefly ascribed the fact that the natives are not so liberal as at the last-named island. The Swedish naturalist, Dr. Rink, who has so largely and valuably added to our stock of information respecting the Nicobar group, resided here for a considerable time with some forty Chinese labourers, and, with a view to ultimate colonization, had caused to be cut through the forest several paths, by means of which this island has been rendered much more permeable than any other in the Archipelago. The selection was an extremely happy one, and had the projected colonization of the island been carried into effect, very different results would have been obtained than those of poor Dr. Rosen in Nangkauri Harbour. Next to Kar-Nicobar, it has been clearly decided that Pulo Milu is the most suitable spot for a first settlement, in the event of any European power or any capitalist undertaking to solve the problem of colonizing this Archipelago.

In the cove at which we landed five huts stand upon the beach, much similar to those at Nangkauri, and like them having before them a number of lofty singularly ornamented poles emerging from the water, called by the natives Handschuop, and intended to keep Davy Jones at a respectful distance from the village,--not unlike the scarecrow with which we at home seek to frighten from the ripening corn the rapacious troop of feathered epicures. These banners for scaring away the Eewees are erected within the sea limit by the Manluena, or exorcist, who in these islands, like the medicine-man of the Red Indian of America, or the Ach-Itz of the Indian races among the highlands of Guatemala, exercises the utmost influence over all the affairs of life. Here, as elsewhere, most of the natives had disappeared on our approach. We found but five men, who were all at least partially clad; some wore shirts, trowsers, and caps; another had enveloped his person in an immense, and by no means over-clean, piece of linen. One of this number, who acted as our guide through the island, and called himself "John Bull," was not a regular resident in Pulo Milu, but in Lesser-Nicobar, and had only come over to the island for the purpose of constructing canoes of trunks of trees hollowed out. He spoke English with tolerable fluency, and displayed quite child-like satisfaction, as often as any English word, no matter what, was recalled to his recollection, which had slipped his memory from want of practice. John Bull soon became very insinuating, and expressed a wish to accompany us to Great Nicobar, where, as he a.s.sured us, at Hinkvala, one of the villages on the southern sh.o.r.e, he had several relatives, among others one named "London," who could be of the utmost service to us. For his kind offices we promised him a present, upon which he asked with the most nave simplicity: "You not talk lie?" from which we may conjecture that not every promise made to him by a stranger was duly fulfilled. The huts of the natives were constructed of beams, exactly like those in the central island; and the internal arrangements were precisely identical. Here also are figures sculptured in wood, Eewee-charms, which especially are found in the interiors of the houses in such numbers and in such quaint costumes, that one is almost tempted to imagine the inhabitants of these huts must be proprietors of some Marionette-theatre. We also found here various objects carved in soft wood, among others a large serpent, a tortoise, and several droll figures, as also a seven-holed flute of bamboo-reed, the model for which had evidently been supplied by some of the Malay sailors from Pulo Penang.

The same evening we weighed anchor, and shaped our course along the eastern sh.o.r.e of Lesser-Nicobar, which is thickly covered with swamp and forest. On the morning of 19th March, we were abreast of the island of Montial in St. George's Channel, and by evening had anch.o.r.ed on the northern side of Great Nicobar, S.E. of the island of Kondul, which also lies in the Channel. Already before sunrise the boats were lowered and everything got in readiness for a visit to the small but delightful island of Kondul, which, though on the N.W. side so lofty and rocky as to be almost inaccessible, presents on its E. side a tolerably secure landing-place, situated according to our observations in 7 12' 17" N.

and 93 39' 57" E. Here we found a number of huts, but not one single native was visible. We now endeavoured, by following up a torrent bed, to climb to the highest point of the island, which has an elevation of 350 to 400 feet. In this we only succeeded after most severe exertion, occasionally having to avail ourselves at the steepest parts of the ascent of the gigantic roots of trees, or of the climbing plants that hung suspended like natural ropes, by means of which we swung ourselves among the huge blocks of rock, till we could gain a secure footing. Instead, however, of finding, as we had hoped, a small _plateau_ at the summit, or at all events discovering some less difficult path by which to descend, we were sorely disconcerted, on arriving thoroughly exhausted on the top, at finding the rock descended so sheer and precipitous on the other side that it was impossible to make one step further. However, we found here a delicious refreshing breeze. With pleasure indescribable, our gaze wandered to the island of Great Nicobar and the islet of Cabra, lying immediately opposite us, their green luxuriant sh.o.r.es bathed on all sides by the azure ripple of the ocean. Although no rain had fallen for more than six months, the vegetation was on the whole wonderfully fresh and abundant, the forest lovely and majestic as on "the first day of Creation!"

We found ourselves compelled to retrace our steps by the same break-neck path by which we had ascended the peak. On the sh.o.r.e we encountered some of the natives, whose curiosity had got the better of their apprehensions, and who now slunk out of the forest, to discover what was our peculiar object in landing on the island. Among their number was a native doctor, and Eewee exorciser; he was however in no way distinguishable from the rest of his brethren, unless by the inordinate length of his hair, which flowed down far below his shoulders. One of the members of the Commission, desirous of getting at the treatment pursued by these sly knaves when they go to work with their poor credulous dupes of patients, promised this dusky disciple of aesculapius a present, if he would cure him by his own method, and affected to have an intolerably severe pain in the left arm.

The Manluena displayed his treatment with a vengeance; he laid hold of the supposed sufferer by the arm, which he pinched and punched, till there was not a spot that had not received his attentions, while during the entire process he now screamed aloud, now whistled, now blew vigorously upon the bare skin, as though endeavouring to expel the Evil Spirit. According to the belief of these poor people, every bodily pain is nothing other than a demon magically introduced into the system through the evil influence of an Eewee. The Manluena commenced to pinch the arm from above, performing this anything but agreeable manipulation with his hands lubricated with cocoa-nut oil, from above downwards, the object being to drive out the Eewee from the arm by the finger points! Although the doctor had not used his patient very tenderly, he nevertheless in the opinion of the natives had not appeared to put forth all his powers, and had made use of far fewer noises and contortions than had been usual with him when one of themselves was undergoing treatment. Moreover his original confidence seemed to fail him in his anxiety lest some mischance should befall him in case this attempt at a cure should miscarry, and accordingly he speedily made off, after he had been complimented with a few threepenny bits for his trouble, nor did he again make his appearance the whole day.

Some of the members of the Expedition had resolved to ramble quite round the island; the circ.u.mference of which is little if at all more than eight English miles. At early morning they had started with their guns and botanical boxes on their shoulders full of the most buoyant expectation of securing an ample store of curiosities, starting from the east coast and thence to the north side of the island; and towards sunset they made their appearance at the south side, foot-sore and nearly exhausted. In the ardour of the chase and of collecting "specimens," they had plunged so deep into the forest, thereby losing all trace of the direction by which they had entered, that as the sun was already beginning to descend, they had no alternative but to hew a path with their hatchets through the thickest of the forest, so as to reach the beach once more. At times hanging by creepers, at others swimming at various spots where the rocks dipped perpendicularly into the sea, they at length arrived at the spot where we were re-embarking, hungry, thirsty, and in a state of such extreme exhaustion that we at first were really apprehensive for their lives. Singularly enough these severe hardships were followed by no evil consequences to any one of the party, though the recollection of them will surely not fade out of their memory for the rest of their lives.

The 21st March, being a Sunday, was duly observed, and was kept as a much-needed day of rest, no boat going to sh.o.r.e. Towards noon a pretty smart shower of rain fell, the first for six months. Several of the natives came off in their canoes, and brought fowls, eggs, cocoa-nuts, and various other fruits, as also monkeys and parrots. Rupees, English shillings and sixpences, were evidently not unknown to them, as they greatly preferred these in exchange to mere toys and showy articles.

On the 22nd we made an excursion to a bay on the island of Great Nicobar or Sambelong. All that portion of the coast lying opposite our anchorage was quite uninhabited, evidently in consequence of the entire absence at this point of the cocoa-palm, whereas on the west coast there are several good-sized villages. Unfortunately, however, these lay at far too great a distance from the frigate to permit of an excursion being made thither. As our boat, after an hour's rowing, approached the little bay, we perceived at the mouth of a small creek the singular spectacle of a dead mangrove forest. Some great storm had apparently thrown up a sand-drive here, so as to cut off the supply of sea-water even at full tide. As the mangrove only flourishes in salt or brackish water, it had thus been deprived of its vital element, and the trees had accordingly perished in the fresh water.

But the lofty stems still stood, withered and blighted, a ghastly garden of death amidst delicious green peaks covered with forest. As the sun rose, a white vapour lay like a winding-sheet over the dead swamp: one felt the uncomfortable sensation of being in a place where miasmata were poisoning the air, while the soil was generating death. The rigid skeletons of these trees recall to the recollection of the stranger, who stands marvelling at the all-powerful energies of Nature to create and destroy in these regions, how many corpses of his fellow-Europeans are mouldering beneath the damp soil of this island! Fortunately the river has once more broken through the bar, and given access to the sea-water, so that beneath the dead forest a fresh green vegetation was fast springing up.

The crew of a Malay prahu from Penang had selected this dull spot for a regular settlement, in order to collect ripe cocoa-nuts, and Trepang, the edible sea-slug (_Holothuria_) already mentioned, the latter for the Chinese market. These people occupied a large wooden shed, and were provisioned for a somewhat long stay. Except this shed there was not one single hut here, all around being nothing but dense forest and swamp; but some natives of the island of Kondul came over in their canoes to trade hens and eggs with us. The Malay vessels which visit these islands almost all come hither from Penang, about the beginning of the N.E. monsoon, and remain during the whole of the dry season, so as to take in a full cargo of the various natural produce of the island. They bring for barter fine Chinese tobacco, calico, knives, axes, hatchets, cutla.s.ses, clothes, and black round hats. In former years they also imported the betel shrub into Great Nicobar for propagation; where, in fact, it has been planted, and has since then increased to such an extent that its importation is no longer remunerative. With the commencement of the S.W. monsoons and the rainy season, the Malay traders with their profitable cargoes make their way back to Penang, and the other places along the coast of the peninsula of Malacca. Thanks to the presence of these people, the members of the Expedition were enabled to compare the Nicobar idiom with that of the Malays, and could thus ascertain the exceeding discrepancies between these two languages.[15] These merchants ordinarily bring with them a few individuals who have a slight knowledge of the Nicobar language, as the Malay tongue is not understood anywhere in this archipelago.

One of the Malay seamen, named Tschingi, from Penang, whose caste was indicated by the long stripes of a bluish green colour painted upon his dark brown forehead, peculiar to the Hindu G.o.d Siva, told us that he recollected being employed as a boy in the service of Pastor Rosen on the island of Kamorta, with whom he remained till his return to Europe. He spoke with much admiration of that estimable and thoroughly deserving gentleman, and remarked that many Chinese and other settlers had accompanied him to Kamorta, all of whom speedily succ.u.mbed to the fever.

The native known as John Bull, who had followed us. .h.i.ther from Pulo Milu, made his appearance at the bay, accompanied by some of his kindred, and brought us some provisions. He seemed firmly to believe that in the interior of the island of Sambelong, in its southern part, there existed some wild inhabitants of a different race, Baju-oal-Tschua (or junglemen, as he called them), who lived entirely in the woods, in small huts erected upon the banks of the streams, and were so timid that they took to flight so soon as any one endeavoured to approach them. He also told us that in the S. and S.W. sides of Sambelong there were eleven villages: viz. Hinkoata, Changanhei, Hinhaha, Haengangloeh, Ka.n.a.lla, Taeingha, Dayak, Kanchingtong, Dagoak, Hinlawua, and Kalemma.

In the course of the day, not only was a highly successful onslaught made on the denizens of the woodland, but even the fishes in bay were not exempted from our attentions;--a net, which was flung over the side and retained there barely half an hour, being hauled ash.o.r.e with upwards of a hundred weight of small fish. Of this the entire ship's company partook, and sufficient was left over for the next day. Our quarry in the swamps and forest consisted of snipes, of a splendidly plumed Maina bird (_Gracula Indica_), eagles, and apes; unfortunately a number of the animals shot were lost by their retreating into the thicket, where they could not be recovered.

On the morning of the 23rd of March the frigate again made sail and steered along the west coast of Great Nicobar, while two boats' crews were despatched with the requisite instruments to examine this quite unexplored coast. This plan, however, proved only half successful. The tremendous surf, into which the long swell setting in from the S.W. is broken hereabouts, hurled the larger boat upon the beach with such violence that it was capsized, by which a great portion of her freight was utterly lost, and her crew could only escape to sh.o.r.e by swimming. The smaller, or jolly-boat, returned to the ship with two of her crew to fetch a.s.sistance for these woe-begone wights. One of the latter, who coolly spoke of the accident as a "_piccola disgrazietta_,"[16] with the same breath informed us that almost all the instruments, note-books, and implements of the chase which had been taken on board, were irretrievably gone. Another quarter-boat was despatched to bring off our shipwrecked companions, who meanwhile remained on the sh.o.r.e in anything but enviable plight, soaked to the skin, hungry and thirsty, and busily employed in fishing up some few of the articles that had been overturned into the water. At last both boats got safely back in company about midnight, but under such circ.u.mstances that it was out of the question to think of prosecuting the examination that had been commenced. We now lay a course for the southern bay of Great Nicobar, where, shortly after 9 P.M. of the 24th March, we cast anchor near the little stream called "Galatea" by the Danish expedition. The midshipman intrusted with the commission of selecting the most suitable spot to disembark, returned after several hours' absence, with the little consolatory intelligence, that along the entire reach of coast which he had examined, there was but one solitary spot at which it was possible to land without danger from a boat of European construction.

In the course of the day we received numbers of natives on board; among the rest, one man still young, with immense spectacles, which undoubtedly were worn much more for personal adornment than for use. They brought off for sale a few apes, parrots, hens, swine, cocoa-nuts, as also some rosin, tortoise-sh.e.l.l, amber, and a few large eggs of a species of wood-pigeon, called by the natives Mekeni, of which unfortunately we did not succeed in seeing a single specimen, despite our utmost exertions.

The following morning, 26th March, amid occasional premonitory symptoms of the approach of the rainy season, the naturalists and some officers endeavoured to effect a landing at a place where alone it seemed possible for the broad, clumsy boats of our western waters. In this we succeeded.

Again we were able, although drenched to the skin, to set foot on Nicobar soil. It was for the last time we did so. Not a single vestige could be discerned along the beach of any human habitations:--all was thick tropical forest, fringed with enormous _Barringtoni[oe] Gigante[oe]_, which in all their primeval weirdness flung their branches over the water, interlaced in wild confusion. After half an hour's wandering along the hot beach, we came unexpectedly, at a point somewhat south of our point of disembarkation, upon a couple of wretched disconsolate-looking huts. Not a human being was visible,--only a pair of hens and a pig, which were parading about untended; the bamboo poles, which usually figure in front of the native huts, had been carried away. However, in their absence it did not cost us much trouble to penetrate into the interior. A few weapons of war or the chase, a number of hollowed-out perfumed cocoa-nut sh.e.l.ls suspended above the fire-place, a pair of elegantly plaited baskets, a boat's sail made of panda.n.u.s leaves, some straw mats, and a couple of marvellously finished figures, formed the very miscellaneous inventory of this Nicobar household. The figures (cut in wood) and a very neatly-executed basket attracted to themselves our special attention as interesting specimens of the industry and taste of the natives of Nicobar.

We could not resist possessing ourselves of these, at the same time leaving in recompense a quant.i.ty of shining six-penny pieces, fully twenty times the utmost possible value of what had been taken away, depositing them in one of the baskets which was suspended in a conspicuous position in the middle of the hut.

Adjoining this hamlet was a forest of cocoa-palms. We penetrated into it, and suddenly found ourselves, to our great astonishment, on the track of a well-worn footpath, which was probably, with the exception of the paths in Great Nicobar and Pulo Milu, in better condition than any other we had hitherto encountered in the Nicobar Islands. What more natural than to suppose that a path so well worn must necessarily lead to an important settlement? It pa.s.sed first through an extensive and splendid palm-plantation, and afterwards through a very beautiful clump of leafy trees, fringing a little brook, whose channel, it being then the end of the dry season, was quite dried up. Frequently we were obliged to clamber over steep blocks of rock, with footsteps hewn in them by the hand of man, for facilitating the pa.s.sage, and at last, after a scramble of several hours, highly interesting, but exceedingly fatiguing, we reached a cleared spot on the sea-beach, but without being able to discern the remotest trace of any human habitations. On the contrary, it seemed to admit of no doubt that this path, as also some spots that had been cleared, were nothing but the preparations for an intended settlement, which can only be successfully carried out here where the cocoa-palm and screw-pine have first struck root. Some of the sailors, who accompanied us as porters and escort, went forward as far as the extreme point of the bay, but there also they found no trace of any human abode. After a brief rest we returned by the same track, to the spot at which we had disembarked, where we were joined by some of the officers, who, more fortunate than ourselves, had encountered some of the natives, and had even seen them in their dwellings. They spoke of the interiors of the huts they visited as being quite as wretched as those on the other islands, only the inhabitants did not seem so shy or timorous. Far from this, they had regaled our lucky companions with palm-wine, and had accompanied them till they fell in with us. With this visit ended the thirty-second day of our stay in the Nicobar Archipelago, only one half of that period having been spent on land, the rest having been occupied in beating about against unfavourable winds.

Before, however, we take our departure from this most interesting group of islands, _en route_ for the Sunda Islands and China, we shall be excused for briefly recapitulating the main results of our observations and investigations, while referring the reader for a more detailed specification of our labours to the various special divisions yet to appear.

The Nicobar Islands, situated right in the most important highway of commerce, which is destined to acquire yet greater importance, so soon as the projected opening of the Suez Ca.n.a.l has been carried out, and extending in their general direction from S.S.E. to N.N.W., seem like an extension of the main central mountain-chain of Sumatra, which is prolonged yet further to the northward through the Andaman group, and in its crescent-shaped arrangement, with the convexity towards the westward, corresponds with Cape Negrais in the peninsula of Malacca. If from this Archipelago, as a centre, a circle be described of about 1200 nautical miles of radius, it will include the most important commercial cities of India, as well as Ceylon, the majority of the Sunda Islands, and Cochin China. The winds usually prevalent here greatly facilitate the pa.s.sage of vessels from the adjoining islands and coasts of _terra firma_, and proportionately enhance the importance of this Archipelago.

With but few exceptions, the sh.o.r.es of the whole group of islands consist of coral sand, or are fringed with coral banks, which latter extend seaward to a depth of thirty fathoms. In like manner almost all the bays seem to be edged with coral reefs, if indeed they are not actually studded with them. The promontories frequently present cliffs both above and below the level of the ocean, extending a couple of miles into the sea, which, what with the occasional rapid currents and light breezes, are not always very easily weathered. The prevailing winds are the two monsoons, the N.E.

in the months of November, December, January, February, and March, the S.W. in May, June, July, August, and September. During the months of April and October, there are variable winds and calms, extending more or less into the adjoining months. The currents vary in direction with the pa.s.sages between the islands, and depend upon the ebb and flow of the tide, varying in force and direction with the tidal phenomena. Ordinarily these make themselves felt during the making of the tide from S.W. to N.E., and in a contrary direction during the ebb.

Due south of Kar-Nicobar, we found while lying at anchor a current running 3-1/2 miles an hour, two days after the full moon; north of Little Nicobar, near the small island of Treis, where the current compelled us to anchor, its velocity, as we experienced two days after new moon, is as high as 4-1/2 miles an hour. These observations refer to a period when the velocity of the current was at its maximum. In light winds, and when near the coast, one must always let go the anchor, or at least lay out a kedge, the latter however being barely sufficient at several spots immediately after the full or the new moon. According to observations made during five days about the period of full moon, the course of tide at Kar-Nicobar may be a.s.sumed at 9h. 40m., and the difference in height between ebb and flood at five feet.

In these waters, and in a still more marked degree in the lat.i.tude of Sumatra, occurs a belt within which the wave-currents form what is known to English navigators as "The Ripples." The sea here is ranged zone-fashion, so to speak, as though in fact in a state of ebullition, and makes a considerable noise, yet without there being anything to indicate an increased strength of current; since, on the contrary, we found when reaching these tracts, that the velocity of current was if anything rather diminished. We conceive this phenomenon may be attributed to the agitation caused by partial tidal currents, crossing each others' course, and occasionally even running counter to each other, as also to certain special conditions of ocean temperature at varying depths. The changes of the tides at points of the coast, proportionally speaking so near each other, are so widely different in point of time, and the height reached by the waves is so little uniform, that any such phenomenon as the above must naturally make itself perceptible at the surface in the open sea.

While the change of tide at Kar-Nicobar takes place every 9h. 40m., that of Cape Diamond in Sumatra is laid down in the English chart at 12h., and on the sand-banks in the Straits of Malacca at only 5h. 30m. The difference in elevation a.s.signed exhibits a similar discrepancy in the estimates; that for Kar-Nicobar being stated at five feet, that for Cape Diamond at 10 feet, and on the sand-banks already mentioned at 15 feet.

The hurricanes of the Bay of Bengal never visit the Nicobars; they seem to originate part in or about the Andaman Islands, part from the west coast of Sumatra, proceeding in the former case towards the northern portions of the gulf, and in the latter towards the Coromandel coast and Ceylon.

During the S.W. monsoon, in which occurs the rainy season, frequent thunder-storms and even gales of wind occur, especially in the vicinity of Great Nicobar. The dry N.E. monsoon again brings fine weather, but sometimes blows with considerable strength.

Kar-Nicobar has no regular harbour, but presents on its north side a s.p.a.cious land-locked bay nearly rectangular, the holding ground of which is a coral sand of from 10 to 16 fathoms, and is thoroughly sheltered to the S.W. and N.E. During the N.E. monsoon it is advisable to lie somewhat closer in with the northern promontory of the island. At this season it is difficult to find any spot at which small boats can disembark. However, near the northern point it is possible to reach the sh.o.r.e in a small cove, the western boundary of which presents an open s.p.a.ce of coral sand, where it is possible to lie to in deep water with even a good-sized boat. The village of Saoui, which gives its name to the roadstead, is not readily accessible during the N.E. monsoon in consequence of the surf, but the very next indentation of the coast facing eastwards, which is protected seaward by a coral reef, offers a well-sheltered point of disembarkation, where the boats can be beached on the smooth coral sand, and thereafter drawn up high and dry.

During the N.E. monsoon it is also practicable to avail oneself of the bay on the S. side of Kar-Nicobar, or to anchor anywhere along the W. side of the island, but such anchorages possess no other protection than is afforded by long points of land projecting far into the ocean, and usually protracted by coral reefs.

Both in the bay of Saoui, and on the south side of Kar-Nicobar, are found small brooks, which run with water even during the dry season. It is difficult however to water hereabouts, because these rivulets are blocked up with sand-bars, not to speak of the obstacles interposed to the landing of boats, by the tremendous surf and the low swampy sh.o.r.e at most periods of the year. In cases of extreme necessity, however, the little rivulet called the Areca might with some difficulty be made available.

Chowra, Kamorta, and Bampoka, have no regular anchorages; a vessel must be content to ride to leeward of that coast, which will act as a shelter against whichever monsoon happens to be blowing. Disembarkation by means of boats is extremely difficult, and it is much better to make use of a native canoe, which, after transporting the visitor through the surf to the land, can be more easily drawn up on the beach.

Tillangschong possesses a beautiful harbour on the S. side, which however is open to the S.E., but during the greater part of the year affords an excellent anchorage. The most southerly point has numerous cliffs and needles of rock where it projects into the sea, but it is possible to approach within a few fathoms of the southernmost of these with vessels of any size.

On the west side of the island, at the spot where its two halves may be said to blend, the northernmost rugged, the more southerly flat, a pretty good anchorage will be found, which seems to be sheltered towards the S.W.

by several solitary projecting rocks. Generally speaking, but more especially to the N. and E., this island presents a steep precipitous sh.o.r.e, so that, with the exception here and there of a few solitary rocks, close in to the sh.o.r.e, there is nothing but clear deep water around almost the entire island to within about 10 fathoms of the land.

The harbour of Nangkauri is rather roomy, but of very unequal though for the most part considerable depth; the soundings in its midst giving between 20 and 30 fathoms. The promontories are all more or less low-lying, and thickly beset with coral reefs, and caution is the more necessary, since it is far from unusual after working in from 20 to 16 fathoms, to find the water shoal suddenly to four or even three fathoms.

The anchorage formed by the two islands of Kamorta and Nangkauri has two entrances, from the east and from the west, the navigation of which by large ships demands the utmost vigilance. The western entrance is barely a cable's length in width, while the island of Nangkauri has hardly any fair-way for vessels along its exterior coast-line. In consequence of the two islands trending towards each other at that point, the harbour near its middle is greatly narrowed, so that there may almost be said to be two harbours. In either of them a vessel is quite safe, being in fact so thoroughly sheltered from all winds that the heat is occasionally overpowering.

On the west side of Kamorta, six or seven miles north of the western entrance of the harbour, will be found a large sheet of water, called Ulala Bay, in the first half of which there is excellent anchorage; but the vapours emanating from the abundant mangrove swamps render residence here extremely unhealthy. As Ulala Cove runs for the most part parallel with Nangkauri Harbour, and is separated from the latter only by a range of low eminences, the near proximity of these mangrove swamps likewise imparts their baleful influence to the air of Nangkauri Harbour. There is absolutely no water here fit for drinking.

Katchal has large bays on both its west and its east sides, but they are almost entirely silted up with coral sand. The channel between Katchal and Kamorta is clear. Here we made short tacks in pa.s.sing through, approaching the sh.o.r.es on either side within half a mile.

Little Nicobar has a good harbour on the north side, formed by the island of Pulo Milu and the N. coast of Little Nicobar, which is bent almost at a right angle. This anchorage is accessible in all winds, and is well sheltered, but a considerable portion adjoining the sh.o.r.e of Little Nicobar is rendered useless by banks of coral.

Notwithstanding the most careful examination of this part of the coast, we could not discover the spot, which in the Danish charts is marked as furnishing water fit for drinking, but perceived nothing save mangrove swamps, with numerous water-courses filled with brackish water, the two largest of which we navigated in our gondola as far as was practicable.

The island of Kondul in St. George's Channel forms another very fair anchorage; and similarly on the N. side of Great Nicobar, one finds several suitable bays, the most easterly of which, called Ganges Harbour, is fringed with coral banks, rendering it proportionately difficult of access. The anchorage of Kondul may be selected for one reason, namely, that it is land-locked towards both N.E. and S.W., besides having the additional advantage of being airy, and distant from the mangrove swamps, whereas in the bays on the N. coast of Great Nicobar these are of immense extent. One of these mangrove swamps in the central cove was traversed by one of the naturalists, the result of which was that he found a river debouching into the sea through the very heart of the swamp, which, however, so long as the sea-water could find entrance, was not of course drinkable.

On the west side of Great Nicobar, along the whole length of which we sailed, but which we could not visit more carefully, owing to want of time and the heavy S.W. swell of the ocean, several other promontories and coves are apparently available as harbours, and moreover may be supposed to be the embouchures of rivers. At the south point of Great Nicobar there is a large bay, which however being quite exposed from S.W. to S.E. must be anything but a safe anchorage during the S.W. monsoon. During the prevalence of the N.E. monsoon it seems tolerably well suited for an anchorage, if the eastern promontory be kept S.E. by S., and the anchor be cast in soundings of from 10 to 13 fathoms. Landing, however, is at all times a matter of difficulty, as the surf is very boisterous and the swell of the sea pretty heavy. Its most remote point is the mouth of the river Galatea, which, however, is closed by a sand-bar, and for that reason cannot be easily reached. This bay, owing to its configuration, is excessively hot and sweltering, and with reference to its salubrity cannot be recommended as a suitable abode.

The climate of the Archipelago, though tropical, is not nevertheless to be ranked among the hottest, in consequence of its insular position, and of the whole of the islands being thickly clothed with forest. Hence the quant.i.ty of rain, which, as has been seen, is sufficient to keep the rivers full even in the dry season. According to the meteorological observations made on these islands by various observers at different periods of the year, the average temperature does not exceed 77 Fahr., much about the temperature of the fluid found in the fresh unripe cocoa-nut. But during the months of April and October respectively, at which period calms prevail in these islands, the maximum temperature of 86 to 88 Fahr. is reached.

Considering the violence with which rain falls, and that the dry season of the N.E. monsoon from November to March, and the damp season of the S.W.

monsoon from April to October, are by no means so sharply defined on these islands as on the adjoining coasts of the mainland, the quant.i.ty of annual rainfall must be enormous. At certain times it is not much less than 100 or even 150 inches, and yet it probably is not so high as that presented by other localities, which experience the regular changes of the monsoons, as for instance, in the Straits of Malacca, where the annual rainfall is 208 inches, or Mahableshwur south of Bombay, where it amounts to no less than 254 inches! March is the dryest month in the year. During the whole of the month, which we spent on the islands or in their immediate vicinity, we only had three sharp thunder-storms. These become more frequent and severe during April, until about May or June the S.W. monsoon sets in and envelopes the islands in rain-clouds. Where some special physical configuration of the soil does not admit of the rapid carrying off of the redundant deluge of rain, the island must necessarily be unusually well off for water. Of the correctness of this theory we were enabled thoroughly to satisfy ourselves, since the close of the dry season is necessarily unfavourable to there being any water remaining in the streams and brooks; notwithstanding which even the smallest of the islands, Pulo Milu and Kondul, although their rivulets had ceased to flow, possessed a sufficient supply of sweet drinkable water among the numerous basin-shaped pools that occur in the beds of the various streams. From the forest-covered slopes of Tillangschong also, small streams of fresh water are continually trickling. The insignificant brooks and rivers of the large well-wooded islands lying further to the south of Great and Little Nicobar, are in like manner kept full the whole year by the blessed abundance of the watery element. On the other hand, the northern islands, so far at least as the marl-formation extends, seem to be but scantily supplied with water, especially on Kamorta, Nangkauri, Tringkut, and apparently Teressa and Bampoka as well. All the small streams on the two first-named islands, which fall into the Nangkauri harbour, were found to be very nearly dried up.

The princ.i.p.al beverage of the natives of these islands is the fluid contents of the unripe cocoa-nut, while it should seem that they fetch the water required for house purposes from the pools of sweet water, which they find scattered here and there among the river-courses. Springs we saw none, with the exception of the old ruined one of the Moravian Brethren near the village of Malacca on the island of Nangkauri. Kar-Nicobar, although likewise belonging to the same marl-formation as the before-mentioned islands, has nevertheless no lack of drinkable water, since the expanse of land raised from eight to twelve feet above the level of the ocean const.i.tutes the site of those singular springs, the sweet water in which rises and falls with the ebb and flow of the tide. The explanation of this singular phenomenon must not be sought for in the filtration of the sea-water by the coral rock, but is simply due to the rain-water, being the lighter, floating upon the surface of the sea-water, which is heavier, while the porous coral rock prevents the complete intermixture of the salt and fresh water. In the villages of Moose and Saoui on Kar-Nicobar we saw several such cisterns, which always had eight or ten feet good fresh water. Of rivers, properly so called, we found but two, one falling into the northern Bay of Kar-Nicobar, the other at the southern point of Great Nicobar. The former, which from the luxuriant growth of the cabbage tree along its banks we named "Areca-river," is navigable for flat-boats for about two miles from its mouth, at which point further progress is arrested by some small rapids.

Here the water is quite sweet, holding but a very little chalk in solution.