man to the heart. He runs on, with bloody kris in his hand, stabbing at everyone
he meets. "Amok! Amok!" then resounds through the streets. Spears, krisses,
knives and guns are brought out against him. He rushes madly forward, kills all
he can—men, women, and children—and dies overwhelmed by numbers amid
all the excitement of a battle. And what that excitement is those who have been
in one best know, but all who have ever given way to violent passions, or even
indulged in violent and exciting exercises, may form a very good idea. It is a
delirious intoxication, a temporary madness that absorbs every thought and
every energy. And can we wonder at the kris-bearing, untaught, brooding Malay
preferring such a death, looked upon as almost honourable to the cold-blooded
details of suicide, if he wishes to escape from overwhelming troubles, or the
merciless clutches of the hangman and the disgrace of a public execution, when
he has taken the law into his own hands and too hastily revenged himself upon
his enemy? In either case he chooses rather to "amok."
The great staples of the trade of Lombock as well as of Bali are rice and
coffee; the former grown on the plains, the latter on the hills. The rice is
exported very largely to other islands of the Archipelago, to Singapore, and even
to China, and there are generally one or more vessels loading in the port. It is
brought into Ampanam on pack-horses, and almost every day a string of these
would come into Mr. Carter's yard. The only money the natives will take for
their rice is Chinese copper cash, twelve hundred of which go to a dollar. Every
morning two large sacks of this money had to be counted out into convenient
sums for payment. From Bali quantities of dried beef and ox-tongues are
exported, and from Lombock a good many ducks and ponies. The ducks are a
peculiar breed, which have very long flat bodies, and walk erect almost like
penguins. They are generally of a pale reddish ash colour, and are kept in large
flocks. They are very cheap and are largely consumed by the crews of the rice
ships, by whom they are called Baly-soldiers, but are more generally known
elsewhere as penguin-ducks.
My Portuguese bird-stuffer Fernandez now insisted on breaking his agreement
and returning to Singapore; partly from homesickness, but more I believe from
the idea that his life was not worth many months' purchase among such
bloodthirsty and uncivilized peoples. It was a considerable loss to me, as I had
paid him full three times the usual wages for three months in advance, half of
which was occupied in the voyage and the rest in a place where I could have
done without him, owing to there being so few insects that I could devote my
own time to shooting and skinning. A few days after Fernandez had left, a small
schooner came in bound for Macassar, to which place I took a passage. As a