The Malay Archipelago, Volume 1 _ The Land - Alfred Russel Wallace

(Perpustakaan Sri Jauhari) #1

noble palms and tree ferns, wooded hills and volcanic peaks, everywhere meet
the eye. I had heard much of the beauty of this country, but the reality far
surpassed my expectations.


About one o'clock we reached Tomohón, the chief place of a district, having a
native chief now called the "Major," at whose house we were to dine. Here was a
fresh surprise for me. The house was large, airy and very substantially built of
hard native timber, squared and put together in a most workmanlike manner. It
was furnished in European style, with handsome chandelier lamps, and the
chairs and tables all well made by native workmen. As soon as we entered,
madeira and bitters were offered us. Then two handsome boys neatly dressed in
white, and with smoothly brushed jet-black hair, handed us each a basin of water
and a clean napkin on a salver. The dinner was excellent. Fowls cooked in
various ways; wild pig roasted, stewed and fried; a fricassee of bats, potatoes,
rice and other vegetables; all served on good china, with finger glasses and fine
napkins, and abundance of good claret and beer, seemed to me rather curious at
the table of a native chief on the mountains of Celebes. Our host was dressed in
a suit of black with patent-leather shoes, and really looked comfortable and
almost gentlemanly in them. He sat at the head of the table and did the honours
well, though he did not talk much. Our conversation was entirely in Malay, as
that is the official language here, and in fact the mother-tongue and only
language of the Controlleur, who is a native-born half-breed. The Major's father
who was chief before him, wore, I was informed, a strip of bark as his sole
costume, and lived in a rude but raised home on lofty poles, and abundantly
decorated with human heads. Of course we were expected, and our dinner was
prepared in the best style, but I was assured that the chiefs all take a pride in
adopting European customs, and in being able to receive their visitors in a
handsome manner.


After dinner and coffee, the Controlleur went on to Tondano, and I strolled
about the village waiting for my baggage, which was coming in a bullock-cart,
and did not arrive until after midnight. Supper was very similar to dinner, and on
retiring I found an elegant little room with a comfortable bed, gauze curtains
with blue and red hangings, and every convenience. Next morning at sunrise the
thermometer in the verandah stood at 69°, which I was told is about the usual
lowest temperature at this place, 2,500 feet above the sea. I had a good breakfast
of coffee, eggs, and fresh bread and butter, which I took in the spacious
verandah amid the odour of roses, jessamine, and other sweet-scented flowers,
which filled the garden in front; and about eight o'clock left Tomohón with a
dozen men carrying my baggage.

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