John Murray Narratives

Selected Narratives from the John Murray Travel Archive


Edited by Tahir Shah




The nineteenth century was a time of unparalleled exploration. At its start, vast swathes of the world map were ornamented with mythical monsters, or were simply left blank. Filling in the gaps was a risky process, one that required a continuous supply of brave or foolhardy young adventurers. Virtually every week good, honest Englishmen left their clubs in St. James’s for far-flung lands. Many of them, inspired by a rigid codes of duty and dressed in tweeds, never returned. For the ones that did return, there were rich accolades awaiting them. These included titles of nobility, invitations to mingle with royalty, and the chance to have the memoirs of their journeys published by the most prestigious travel publisher of the time, John Murray Limited.

The list of explorers whose works were released by Murray in the 1800s is a list of modern exploration. They include David Livingstone and Mungo Park, Charles Darwin, Herman Melville, John Burkhardt, Isabella Bird and Francis Younghusband. Their journeys covered the entire globe: the Americas and Africa and Asia, the South Seas, Australia and the Antarctic.

During the nineteenth century public literacy increased, and led to an explosion in the demand for tales of the world. Murray’s catalogue quenched the public thirst for accounts of savage tribes, wild animals and mysterious lands. These books provided the cutting edge of geographical information, and lifted the veil on aspects of topography and culture which we take for granted today. They were the Discovery Television of their time, amassed through expeditions of astonishing hardship, often completed in disguise.

Murray was feted for the quality of its editions, and for the extraordinary range of adventure it published. Authors, who were rewarded with high advances, regularly stayed with the company their entire publishing careers.

Through the nineteenth century, the travel narrative evolved enormously. At the start of the century the emphasis was very much on finding Timbuctoo. Murray cornered the market in the Timbuctoo narratives, publishing not only Mungo Park’s, Dixon Denham’s and Hugh Clapperton’s attempts at visiting the city, but also an illiterate American sailor, Robert Adams’ account. The authenticity of the latter narrative was contested, making the book the talking point of sophisticated society. It was an early example of the firm’s willingness to turn controversy into sales. The best example, of course, was Murray publishing Charles Darwin’s The Origin of Species. Darwin released most of his major works through the firm, including The Voyage of the Beagle.

By the end of the century, Murray had published the most prominent names in modern exploration, and had assisted in the travel book changing from rather dry accounts of exploration, to volumes which provided topographical and cultural information, overlaid with a backbone of critique. The Murray travel book may have altered, but it never lost its ability to delight readers by conjuring a world charged with wild peoples, exotic customs, and spectacular panorama.

During the nineteenth century, book illustrations, particularly etchings, came into their own. Almost every would-be adventurer left England with a knowledge of drawing. The result was that a vast number of Murray’s travel narratives were exquisitely illustrated, with snapshots of distant lands.


A selection of writings from the greatest 19th century Murray classics follows

NARRATIVE OF AN EXPEDITION TO THE ZAMBESI AND ITS TRIBUTARIES
BY DAVID AND CHARLES LIVINGSTONE
1865

The Manganja are not a sober people: they brew large quantities of beer, and like it well. Having no hops, or other means of checking fermentation, they are obliged to drink the whole brew in a few days, or it becomes unfit for use. Great merry-makings take place on these occasions, and drinking, drumming, and dancing continue day and night, till the beer is gone. In crossing the hills we sometimes found whole villages enjoying this kind of mirth. The veteran traveller of the party remarked, that he had not seen so much drunkenness during all the sixteen years he had spent in Africa. As we entered a village one afternoon, not a man was to be seen; but some women were drinking beer under a tree. In a few moments the native doctor, one of the innocents, “nobody’s enemy but his own,” staggered out of a hut, with his cupping-horn dangling from his neck, and began to scold us for a breach of etiquette. “Is this the way to come into a man’s village, without sending him word that you are coming?” Our men soon pacified the fuddled but good-humoured medico, who, entering his beer-cellar, called on two of them to help him carry out a huge pot of beer, which he generously presented to us. While the “medical practitioner” was thus hospitably employed, the Chief awoke in a fright, and shouted to the women to run away, or they would all be killed. The ladies laughed at the idea of their being able to run away, and remained beside the beer-pots. We selected a spot for our camp, our men cooked the dinner as usual, and we were quietly eating it, when scores of armed men, streaming with perspiration, came pouring into the village. They looked at us, then at each other, and turning to the Chief upbraided him for so needlessly sending for them. “These people are peaceable; they do not hurt you; you are killed with beer:” so saying, they returned to their homes.
We remarked the different varieties of intoxication among these topers, the talkative, the boisterous, the silly, the stupid, and the pugnacious: the last, when the Chief, at the head of his men, placed himself in front, crying—“I stop this path, you must go back.” He sprang aside, however, with more speed than dignity, when an angry Makololo made a lunge at him with the but of his musket.
Native beer has a pinkish colour, and the consistency of gruel. The grain is made to vegetate, dried in the sun, pounded into meal, and gently boiled. When only a day or two old, the beer is sweet, with a slight degree of acidity, which renders it a most grateful beverage in a hot climate, or when fever begets a sore craving for acid drinks. A single draught of it satisfies this craving at once. Only by deep and long-continued potations can intoxication be produced: the grain being in a minutely divided state, it is a good way of consuming it, and the decoction is very nutritious. At Tette a measure of beer is exchanged for an equal-sized pot full of grain. A present of this beer, so refreshing to our dark comrades, was brought to us in nearly every village. Beer-drinking does not appear to produce any disease, or to shorten life, on the hills. Never before did we see so many old grey-headed men and women; leaning on their staves they came with the others to see the white men.

We passed through a tract of country covered with mopane trees, where the hard baked soil refused to let the usual thick crops of grass grow; and here we came upon very many tracks of buffaloes, elephants, antelopes, and the spoor of one lion. An ox we drove along with us, as provision for the way, was sorely bitten by the tsetse. The effect of the bite was, as usual, quite apparent two days afterwards, in the general flaccidity of the muscles, the drooping ears, and looks of illness. It always excited our wonder that we, who were frequently much bitten too by the same insects, felt no harm from their attacks. Man shares the immunity of the wild animals.
Though this was the dry, or rather hot season, many flowers were in blossom along our path. The euphorbia, baobab, and caparidaceous trees were in full bloom. A number of large hornbills attracted out attention, and Masiko, approaching the root of a tree in order to take sure aim at the birds, did not observe that within a few yards of the same tree two elephants stood in the cool shade fanning themselves with their huge ears. Dr. Livingstone fired a ball into the ear of one of the animals at thirty yards distance, but he only went off shaking his head, and Masiko for the first time perceived his danger as the beast began to tear away through the bush. Many Manganja skeletons were passed on entering a grove of lofty trees, under whose deep shade stood the ruins of a large village. Wild animals had now taken possession of what had lately been the abodes of men living in peace and plenty.

In one village we found all the women engaged in celebrating, with dancing and singing, a ceremony for two girls of twelve or fourteen, analogous to the boguera which among the Bechuana and Makololo forms the young men into bands or regiments for life. The Bechuana call it boyale when the novices are girls, and here the ceremony is named moari, evidently a cognate word. These girls were dressed with a profusion of beads, and painted over the head and face with pipeclay, which gave them the appearance of wearing an ancient helmet with chin-straps. The women were so eager in the dance and in teaching their young protegées to perform their part in it properly, that they paid no attention to the entreaties of the men to go and grind meal, and clothe themselves with the cloth the strangers had brought. Whence these customs, and from whom a number of laws which are recognised for thousands of miles, have been derived, no one can divine. They seem to have made an indelible impression on the native mind, and abide in it unchanged, from age to age. The boguera has something of the Jewish ceremony of initiation, but it is a political, not a religious institution. It cannot be traced to Arab origin, and is spoken of, by those who have undergone it, under the breath, and with a circumlocution which shows that they regard it in a very serious light.
On September 15th we reached the top of the ascent which, from its many ups and downs, had often made us puff and blow as if broken-winded. The water of the streams we crossed was deliciously cold, and now that we had gained the summit at Ndonda, where the boiling-point of water showed an altitude of 3440 feet above the sea, the air was delightful. Looking back we had a magnificent view of the Lake, but the haze prevented our seeing beyond the sea horizon. The scene was beautiful, but it was impossible to dissociate the lovely landscape whose hills and dales had so sorely tried our legs and lungs, from the sad fact that this was part of the great slave-route now actually in use. By this road many “Ten thousands” have here seen “the Sea,” “the Sea,” but with sinking hearts; for the universal idea among the captive gangs is, that they are going to be fattened and eaten by the whites. They cannot of course be so much shocked as we should be—their sensibilities are far from fine, their feelings are more obtuse than ours—in fact, “the live eels are used to being skinned,” perhaps they rather like it. We who are not philosophic, blessed the Providence which at Thermopylæ in ancient days rolled back the tide of Eastern conquest from the West, and so guided the course of events that light and liberty and Gospel truth spread to our distant isle, and emancipating our race freed them from the fear of ever again having to climb fatiguing heights and descend wearisome hollows in a slave-gang, as we suppose we did when the fair English youths were exposed for sale at Rome.





Americas
North
South


THE VOYAGE OF THE BEAGLE
BY CHARLES DARWIN



The country was quite level, with a coarse herbage and a soft peaty soil. The hovel was here remarkably neat, the posts and rafters being made of about a dozen dry thistle-stalks bound together with thongs of hide; and by the support of these Ionic-like columns, the roof and sides were thatched with reeds. We were here told a fact, which I would not have credited, if I had not had partly ocular proof of it; namely, that, during the previous night hail as large as small apples, and extremely hard, had fallen with such violence, as to kill the greater number of the wild animals. One of the men had already found thirteen deer (Cervus campestris) lying dead, and I saw their _fresh_ hides; another of the party, a few minutes after my arrival brought in seven more. Now I well know, that one man without dogs could hardly have killed seven deer in a week. The men believed they had seen about fifteen ostriches (part of one of which we had for dinner); and they said that several were running about evidently blind in one eye. Numbers of smaller birds, as ducks, hawks, and partridges, were killed. I saw one of the latter with a black mark on its back, as if it had been struck with a paving-stone. A fence of thistle-stalks round the hovel was nearly broken down, and my informer, putting his head out to see what was the matter, received a severe cut, and now wore a bandage. The storm was said to have been of limited extent: we certainly saw from our last night's bivouac a dense cloud and lightning in this direction. It is marvellous how such strong animals as deer could thus have been killed; but I have no doubt, from the evidence I have given, that the story is not in the least exaggerated. I am glad, however, to have its credibility supported by the Jesuit Dobrizhoffen, who, speaking of a country much to the northward, says, hail fell of an enormous size and killed vast numbers of cattle: the Indians hence called the place – Lalegraicavalca – meaning "the little white things." Dr. Malcolmson, also, informs me that he witnessed in 1831 in India, a hail-storm, which killed numbers of large birds and much injured the cattle. These hailstones were flat, and one was ten inches in circumference, and another weighed two ounces. They ploughed up a gravel-walk like musket-balls, and passed through glass-windows, making round holes, but not cracking them.
Having finished our dinner, of hail-stricken meat, we crossed the Sierra Tapalguen; a low range of hills, a few hundred feet in height, which commences at Cape Corrientes. The rock in this part is pure quartz; further eastward I understand it is granitic. The hills are of a remarkable form; they consist of flat patches of table-land, surrounded by low perpendicular cliffs, like the outliers of a sedimentary deposit. The hill which I ascended was very small, not above a couple of hundred yards in diameter; but I saw others larger. One which goes by the name of the "Corral," is said to be two or three miles in diameter, and encompassed by perpendicular cliffs, between thirty and forty feet high, excepting at one spot, where the entrance lies. Falconer gives a curious account of the Indians driving troops of wild horses into it, and then by guarding the entrance, keeping them secure. I have never heard of any other instance of table-land in a formation of quartz, and which, in the hill I examined, had neither cleavage nor stratification. I was told that the rock of the "Corral" was white, and would strike fire.
We did not reach the posta on the Rio Tapalguen till after it was dark. At supper, from something which was said, I was suddenly struck with horror at thinking that I was eating one of the favourite dishes of the country namely, a half-formed calf, long before its proper time of birth. It turned out to be Puma; the meat is very white and remarkably like veal in taste. Dr. Shaw was laughed at for stating that "the flesh of the lion is in great esteem having no small affinity with veal, both in colour, taste, and flavour." Such certainly is the case with the Puma. The Gauchos differ in their opinion, whether the Jaguar is good eating, but are unanimous in saying that cat is excellent.



JOURNEY FROM BUENOS AYRES
BY CAPTAIN ANDREWS
1827


The costume for a mountain traveller, in addition to the saddle equipage, is a broad brimmed straw hat, for a shade; also a handkerchief to be tied round the head and face, to avert the detrimental effects of the sun and wind upon the skin. A rough jacket and trousers, if of flushing the better, as in the day time a poncho may be substituted while the heat lasts; which it is customary to draw tight round the loins, when not required to be so used. A pair of gaucho boots, fabricated with worsted, to draw over the knees and fasten as gaiters, with a strap under the foot. A pair of stout spurs are necessary, with rowels an inch in diameter. A pair of bullock’s horns with stoppers, to carry water or other liquid. A couple of saddle-bags made of worsted, to contain such provisions as the traveller may choose to take without stopping; a stock of cigars must not be forgotten. The latter are not only for the traveller’s private use, but to present to the capitaz and peons, and keep them in good humour. The best store for pic nic haltings, is composed of hams and tongues, minced charque, which the natives flavour with herbs and spice; these, together with onions, frijoles, (beans,) grease, and a little flour to thicken all, the peons make into a kettle of excellent soup. A quantity of biscuits and sweet rusks are indispensable, bread not being commonly purchasable at the post-houses. An iron kettle, and a copper one for tea or coffee, with an English canteen, render the traveller a sovereign in the deserts of the Andes.
In respect to mule travelling itself, there is, as before observed, nothing upon earth half so tedious and wearisome. These animals have no regular pace: one doubles, another shuffles, a third will now and then canter, but this is seldom; yet a high-bred mule has often spirit enough to gallop a mile or two upon a stretch. It may be easily guessed therefore that what is called keeping company with another on the road is out of the question, except at a drawling pace, too expensive in time and aching bones to keep up. Thus each makes his own way in silent thought, or unsocial sulkiness. If the traveller feel in good spirits, cast as he is on his own resources for amusement, he tries every possible experiment to beguile the tedium which is around and upon him. He has besides to avert the solar rays as much as possible, and even their reflection upon his face, especially if passing among slaty rocks, along the mountain’s steep, or over the white sand-hills which abound on his route through the plains. The baggage mules require all the attention of the capitaz, who is also the guide, and they proceed so slowly that keeping near them irritates the nerves with their vexatious crawling. If you start off alone you fear to lose your way, and the propensity felt to do so and halt till the baggage comes up is checked. When I was sure of the road for a good distance, I found it pleasant to advance a league or two a-head, dismount, and go to sleep till the capitaz and his train reached me. Often, by way of refreshing myself, I have taken off my clothes, and when the opportunity admitted, enjoyed the inexpressible luxury of bathing in the mountain torrents. I can never forget how I envied General Alvear his horse, when he passed us afterwards on the road, the superiority of comfort is on horseback so great. It is better to incur a double expence, and, letting the baggage follow at leisure, make a less irksome thing of it. The idea that horses are not so well adapted for travelling in this country as mules, is no doubt correct, as to the mountains, generally speaking, especially for their superior sagacity, surefootedness, and endurance of fatigue. But where there is a succession of hill and plain, the rapid progress I saw subsequently made by both General Alvear and Colonel Dorego, going the same route with ourselves, and arriving two or three hours before we did, after starting perhaps an hour later, proves that horses, on such a kind of mixed road, are best, while in point of ease there is no sort of comparison. The being released two or three hours earlier from the parching heat of the sun, far exceeding in so long an exposure anything I ever before experienced, is a material object; and to this inconvenience are added the gusts of warm wind, which blow down upon the traveller, heated in the funnels formed by the inequalities of the mountains and quebradas, besides the being blinded or choked with hot sand in the plains.
The mule traveller thinks that his journey never can end. He meets an Indian, and on asking how many leagues he has yet to go, gets “no se,” or a reply widely differing from the distance at which his guide rates it, and even the stranger informant is perhaps so ignorant of the matter that no dependence can be placed on what he asserts. As for the peons, they never trouble themselves on the subject. They stick to present business. Their abode is the open air, and they are at home on the road, travelling along without care, and cheering the mules with a song. Now they dismount from time to time to help up a jaded beast that has lain down with his “carga,” or load, for a moment’s respite, in which case the burthen must be replaced. The load re-arranged, the peon drives the mule up to the rest. Meanwhile another animal has taken it into its head to lie down, and is to be assisted as the preceding one has been. A patch of good browsing ground is now perhaps discovered by some young beast, which leaves the madrina (usually a mare, with a bell round her neck, which leads the troop), and gallops away to regale itself. The goodness of a mule is generally estimated by the steadiness with which it keeps up with the madrina during a journey. The peons must pursue all runaways, sometimes to considerable distances; yet the animals rarely receive ill-treatment for thus playing truant, and giving their masters trouble. A rattle on the haunches with the bight of the lasso alone reminds the deserter of his duty, perhaps while grinning at a thistle which he seizes, and runs back with to his post, there to receive a look and lecture from a “companero,” or comrade. Even such an incident as this is food for reflection to the most thoughtless mind during such a journey. The differences between the peons and their mules, in the exhibition of their intellectual faculties, is another oft-recurring theme for meditation, and not unfrequently the animal appears to have the advantage of his masters.

We stopped to refresh ourselves at Satagambo, six leagues from Potosi, where we procured the luxuries of new laid eggs, and a dish of Indian “chupi,” (a species of curry) this was a fillip to us, spare feeders as we had been, for the rest of our journey. Here I first saw the Llamas, or Peruvian sheep, and soon afterwards met a whole troop, marching two and two, and looking like cavalry at a distance, their heads being held up nobly, and moving along full of state. In form they are the handsomest, and in conduct the most gentle of any animals of the species I have ever seen.
A considerable descent from Satagambo or Chaquilla, brings the traveller to an inclined plane, in the horizon of which the long expected hill of Potosi rises. By a succession of steps, ascending, you at length reach it; but a feeling of tedium is experienced almost unsupportable, so slowly do you seem to approach its base. On the plain at its foot innumerable Llamas and Alpachas browse, and a part of it is irrigated by a delicious spring; little in quantity, it must be confessed, as the source is not larger than a gallon kettle; but parched as we were, the water was to us perfect nectar.

It is impossible to reflect without horror on the cold, calculating vices of the Spanish clergy in the new world. Had hell let loose her worst fiends upon society, they could not have proceeded more deliberately to eradicate from the human soul every relic of that kindly and virtuous feeling, of which the most untutored have some share by nature. The conduct of the Spaniards in America from the beginning was a tissue of vice and cruelty, the details of which would be incredible were there not too many damning evidences of the truth left to blot the name of their country with infamy. Let those who wish to be masters of the subject, read the “Noticias Secretas,” &c. of Ulloa, and see if language has epithets of disgrace too strong for these demons. I observed much and heard more respecting manners with which my pen must not stain the paper – manners which they formed.



Asia
Asia Minor
South Asia
Central Asia
East Asia
Pacific


RESEARCHES IN ASIA MINOR, PONTUS, AND ARMENIA
BY WILLIAM J. HAMILTON
1842

At dinner we were joined by a few of the principle Turks, several of whom seemed disposed to take more than the Prophet’s allowance of the forbidden liquor, particularly a young Bimbachi or colonel, who, with another companion, having once broken the ice, was getting rather boisterous and troublesome. Their mirth, however, was soon disturbed by an alarm of the ship being on fire. A general rush was made on deck, when it appeared that a large bundle of tow intended for the use of the machinery had caught fire, in consequence of the negligence of a Turk, who had knocked out the ashes of his pipe into it, but had been immediately extinguished. The alarm and terror of the Turks exceeded all belief; Kismet and predestination were entirely forgotten, and they ran about the decks stupefied by fear. Many of them rushed into the long boat hanging at the quarter, and were on the point of lowering it into the water, in which case they must have been inevitably drowned; others were for running the ship ashore, where she must have struck upon a reef of rocks. Shouts of “a terra, a terra!” resounded on all sides, and I was assailed with cries of “dite al capitano che vada a terra.” Some of the chiefs offered a large sum of money to be landed at Gallipoli. They were alarmed too by the darkness of the night, when the Turks invariably come to an anchor in their own boats. The gale continued through the night, and the following day we were ploughing our way through the Sea of Marmora, contending with adverse winds; the hills on the Asiatic coast being covered with snow to the water’s edge.
At length, after rounding the point of S. Stephano, we caught the first faint glimpse of the minarets of Sta. Sophia, and the neighbouring mosque of Sultan Achmet; but on approaching the mouth of the Bosphorus we were again enveloped in a violent snow-storm, and as we passed under the gardens of the Seraglio every object was concealed, until we had dropped our anchor in the Golden Horn. Then, as under the influence of a magician’s wand, the wintry curtain was withdrawn, and the real beauty of the scene was exposed to view. Behind us the mouth of the Bosphorus and the Golden Horn land-locked by the Asiatic shore was lighted up by the evening sun, whilst to the right and left the ground arose abruptly from the water’s edge, forming a rich amphitheatre of buildings, mosques, minarets, and trees. On our left were the seven hills of Constantinople, on which the tower of the Sublime Porte, the Seraskier’s tower, and the graceful minarets of the many royal mosques, rose far above the common houses, whilst the Fanar stretched along the water’s edge in front; on the right were the suburbs of Galatea, Pera, and the Topkhana, and above them the Tower of Galatea, whose summit commands one of the finest panoramas in the world. The harbour was crowded with shipping; and vessels of every size, from the 74 at anchor to the light and frail caiques which were gliding about in every direction, gave life and motion to the scene.
About four in the afternoon we landed by one of the caiques peculiar to Constantinople; they have no keel, and are therefore easily capsized. They are the most ticklish things in the world, for if, in getting into them, you do not step exactly in midships, you will be inevitably upset, unless the caikji counteracts the effects of your inexperience by quickly throwing himself over to the opposite side. But all sense of danger is forgotten on seeing the grace and ease with which the boatmen, who are both Greeks and Turks, pull; the peculiar crankness of their caiques compels them to sit with unusual gravity and steadiness; and when two or more are pulling in the same boat, the exact uniformity of time and motion, as they bend forward to their oars, almost looks like the effect of machinery. We landed at Topkhana, and passing close to the beautiful fountain covered with paintings, and gildings, and arabesque ornaments, we toiled up the steep and dirty streets to our lodgings in Pera, the chief residence of Europeans and Christians. But alas! the beautiful illusion was destroyed; and however fair and bright the exterior may have been, the streets were narrow and filthy, swarming with ragged boys and savage dogs, the latter yelping and barking at every Frank. The dogs at Smyrna were bad, but those at Topkhana were beyond comparison worse—more savage and more annoying, and a good whip or stick was indispensable.

The greatest activity prevailed in the arsenal during our stay in Constantinople. I was conducted over it by Namik Pacha, who took me on board the new 74-gun frigate, built for the Sultan by an American; she is probably the largest frigate in the world. Her depth of hold is very great, to enable her to support the lofty masts and heavy spars which have been put into her. In the arsenal a steam-engine had lately been erected for sawing wood, and another for flattening bars of copper by graduated rollers. This had been lately broken, in consequence, as we were told, of Tahir Pacha insisting upon a thick piece of copper being placed at once between the narrowest rollers. There was another engine, now out of order, for boring iron guns. Although in many of their ships of war the Turks have exchanged their brass for iron guns, they still continue casting the former. A large vessel alongside the quay was unloading a cargo of chain cables, of various sizes, brought from England, for the use of the Turkish navy.

At the foot of this hill were the remains of a considerable town, consisting of the massive ruins of four or five large buildings of rough stones, the outer casing of almost all of them having been removed or destroyed, and which were probably Turkish. One seemed to have been a bath, another a khan, and a third, of considerable extent, was called a mosque, and bricks, apparently Roman or Byzantine, have been used in their construction. It certainly was not Tavium, and I felt disappointed at not finding any traces of Hellenic ruins. On the low hills to the east was a high tumulus, which the Turks called Sangiac Tepe (Hill of the Standard), saying, that when Sultan Murad or Amurath marched against Bagdad, he ordered each of his soldiers to throw a handful of earth into a heap, on which he planted his standard while the army was encamped around.
While meditating on my disappointment and on the probable origin of the ruins around me, Hafiz Agha reported that he had learned from some peasants, that in the neighbouring village of Euyuk, about two miles off to the S.S.W., there were some curious old stones, in search of which I immediately started. On arriving there I found a Turcoman village, on the southern limits of which was a very curious monument of the oldest times. When I first saw the numerous rude and apparently shapeless stones, forming a kind of avenue, they reminded me of druidical remains, and I thought they might have belonged to the Gallo-Græci, but on further examination they proved to be of a different character. The ruins consist of a large gateway or entrance, facing the south, with part of a massive wall on each side; the two principle stones which form the posts are of gigantic size, being ten or twelve feet high. On the outside of each is sculptured a monstrous figure with a human head, in a very Egyptian style, the body being a grotesque imitation of a bird, the legs of which terminate in lion’s claws. The wall, which advances about fourteen feet on each side of the gateway, and then breaks off to the right and left, leaving a paved enclosed space in front of the entrance, has consisted of enormous blocks of Cyclopian character, but it is now much ruined; yet on the lower course of stones, which are above three feet high, several figures, nearly of the same height, are rudely sculptured in very flat relief; the first stone towards the west represents children playing upon instruments, but too faint to be distinguished; the second represents three priests clothed in long robes; the third, rams driven to the sacrifice; and the last a bull, very rudely sculptured. Within the gateway, an avenue of large stones leads some distance into the village. A curious feature in this monument is, that on the inside of one of the high door-posts, a double-headed eagle has been sculptured, which, however, may have been a more modern addition.


TRAVELS IN ARABIA
BY LIEUT. J. R. WELLSTED, F.R.S.
1838

In a country where the natives are disposed to be hostile, a traveller, if he can possibly avoid it, will do well not to return by his former road. In the first instance he will most probably have passed before they recover from the effects of their surprise, but afterwards he naturally becomes the subject of much conversation and inquiry, and on his return, if disposed for mischief, they look out for him.

In the country, females go with their faces uncovered; but at Maskat they wear a singular description of veil of an oblong form, about ten inches in length, and seven in breadth, embroidered with a gold border. In the middle, so as to cross in a vertical direction immediately over the nose, there is a piece of whalebone answering as a stiffener; and on either side of this two small apertures, through which they obtain a view of passing objects. Among the lower classes, their dress otherwise consists of a loose pair of drawers, with a running girdle, and a large gown or skirt of blue cotton; their arms and ankles are decorated with bracelets and ankle-rings of silver or amber; and in their ears they wear a variety of rings and other ornaments. The dress of the more respectable females is quite as simple, but the materials are silk of Indian manufacture; and over the gown, when abroad, they wear a large wrapper. They display their love of finery in the gold ornaments with which they decorate their heads. A singular custom also prevails of staining the entire person with henna. Shenna, a moss collected from the granite mountains in the Island of Socotra, is also used for a similar purpose. In addition to this, the lower classes aim at further enhancing their claims to personal beauty by exhibiting on their arms and faces various tattoo devices of a blue colour.
In their persons the females are tall and well made, with a roundness and fulness of figure, not, however, approaching to corpulency. Their complexion is not darker than that of a Spanish brunette, and we may infer that this is their natural colour, since, excepting in the morning and evening, those who reside in the oases rarely leave their date groves, and in the towns they preserve their complexions with the same care. On the other hand, the Bedowin women, who are constantly exposed to the rays of the sun, are very swarthy; and the same is observed of the men, although the children are equally fair at their birth. The expression of their countenance is very pleasing; their eyes being large, vivacious, and sparkling; their nose somewhat aquiline; the mouth regular; and the teeth of a pearly whiteness. They are, without doubt, in point of personal attraction, superior to any other class which I have seen in Arabia. Of a gay and sprightly disposition, the smile of mirth constantly plays about their features; and any witty allusion in their conversation with each other, or ludicrous incident, however trifling, is sufficient to excite their laughter.



FIVE YEARS IN DAMASCUS
BY REV. J. L. PORTER, A.M., F.R.S.L.
1855

In this age of locomotion the romance of travel is gone, and a library of Researches, Narratives, and Memorials makes the wanderer familiar with every object of interest, and with all its associations, classic or sacred, ere his eye rests upon it. Still the first sight of the Syrian shores, and of the mountains of Israel, is not soon forgotten. There is a magic power in the living reality which neither poet’s pen nor painter’s pencil can ever appropriate. The descriptions of others, however graphic, and even the sketch of the artist, however faithful, only place before the mind’s eye an ideal scene, which we can contemplate, it is true, with unmingled pleasure, and even with satisfaction; but when the eye wanders over plain and mountain, or the foot touches “holy ground,” the superiority of the real over the ideal is at once felt and acknowledged. Such, at least, has been my experience. Often had I pictured the beauty of Syria’s landscapes and the grandeur of its ruins, and often had I thought of the holy associations that would crowd upon the mind as the eye rested on spots celebrated in history or sanctified by Holy Writ; but a single glance at the magnificent panorama of Lebanon gave rise to emotions I never before had experienced, and occasioned more real pleasure than the perusal of a host of volumes.

The clear voice of the Muezzin from the minaret of the great mosk announced the hour of noon; and soon after ’Amer, our sheikh, entered the court. He was a man of middle stature, and seemingly of middle age. His frame was spare but wiry. There was no evidence of strength, but there was evidence of capability to endure great fatigue. His eye was quick, with more of shrewdness than fierceness in its glance. The whole expression of his countenance was mild and soft, and in this respect different from that of the generality of his race. A deep scar furrowed his cheek, and a sabre-cut had divided his left hand to the centre, rendering useless two of his fingers. On his right arm above the wrist was the deep black scar of a bullet, and two of the fingers of the right hand were broken. His dress externally was similar to that worn by all Arabs, consisting of the striped abeih and gay kefîyeh, bound with its simple rope of camels’ hair. Underneath, however, he wore a silk robe of the brightest colours.

April 2nd.—The air was damp and cold this morning as we mounted our dromedaries at the gate of the village at 6·25. Early as it was, the people were all astir. The Arabs are an early-rising race; and at first thought one would imagine that in this they have one good property at least; but the truth is, there is little virtue in their early hours. Their beds are such that nothing but stern necessity would drive any man to them. They never undress. To loosen the girdle a little, pull the voluminous turban or light camels’-hair rope more firmly down upon the brows, and wrap the rough goats’-hair cloak around the body, constitute their whole toilet arrangements before retiring to rest. Add to this the incessant attacks from myriads of fleas and sundry other animals, and it will be admitted that there is little self-denial in rising with the first dawn of morning.

As soon as ’Amer learned that there was at least one man mounted, he prepared for action. A pair of old pistols, hitherto shut up in his saddle-bags, were hastily drawn out, fresh primed, and thrust into his belt. A huge club, his only other weapon, was handed to Mohammed. Thus equipped we cautiously approached our suspected foes. As we drew near we perceived that there were three, all well armed for Bedawîn. The man mounted in front had a long matchlock, the match of which he lit at some distance; his companion carried a short spear, and the footman a formidable club. Our chief, seeing the odds thus against him, eagerly asked whether we carried pistols, and, on being answered in the affirmative, proceeded with renewed confidence. I confess, however, that I felt rather doubtful about the propriety of risking an engagement. ’Amer’s old pistols I knew could not be depended on, and, even should they chance to go off, would be just as likely to shoot himself as his opponent, for they had been loaded for more than three months. Mr. Robson and I had only one pistol between us; this, however, was double-barrelled, and I felt confident that it would not miss fire, which was more than the Bedawy could say of his gun. On we went now in full expectation of a fight. There was a short parley at a distance of some fifty yards, during which our foes examined us, calculating their chances of success in an attempt to plunder us. We took good care to exhibit our whole armament, and a sight of this apparently led them to conclude that it might just be as safe to let us pass; and thus we separated without uttering a word.
Arabs in the desert are never afraid of large companies or moving tribes, except they are foes with whom they have a blood-feud; but they always fear stragglers. These generally leave their tribe for the sake of plunder, and as they conceal their faces it is impossible to identify them, and there is therefore no hope of restitution or retaliation. When a robber of this kind is killed in the act of robbing another, his own people disown him, and there is no blood-feud in the consequence of his death. It is against such as these that travellers must be on their guard in the desert. A mere exhibition of fire-arms will generally serve to frighten them; for they well know that they are outlaws, and may be shot with impunity. Against a large party, however, it is worse than useless to make any show of resistance; these are the acknowledged guards of their tribe, and they consider it their just right to plunder all that enter their territory without permission. The best policy is to yield to them with a good grace, and under ordinary circumstances they will generally be satisfied with a liberal bakhshîsh.



JOURNEYS IN PERSIA AND KURDISTAN
BY MRS. BISHOP
1891

The Persian is a most ceremonious being. Like the Japanese he is trained from infancy to the etiquette of his class, and besides the etiquette of class there is here the etiquette of religion, which is far more strict than in Turkey, and yields only when there is daily contact, as in the capital, between Moslems and Christians. Thus, a Moslem will not accept refreshments from a Christian, and he will not smoke a pipe after a Christian even if he is his guest, and of equal or higher rank.
The custom is for a visitor, as in the case of the Governor, to announce his visit previously, and he and his train are met, when he is the superior, by a mounted servant of the recipient of the honour, who precedes him to the door, where the servants are arranged according to their rank, and the host waits to take his hand and lead him to a seat. On entering the room a well-bred Persian knows at once what place he ought to take, and it is rare for such a fiasco as that referred to in Luke xiv. 9 to occur. Refreshments and pipes are served at regulated intervals, and the introduction of a third cup of tea or coffee and a third kalian is the signal for the guest to retire. But it is necessary to ask and receive permission to do so, and elaborate forms of speech regulated by the rank of the visitor are used on the occasion. If he is of equal or superior rank, the host, bowing profoundly, replies that he can have no other wish than that of his guest, that the house has been purified by his presence, that the announcement of the visit brought good luck to the house, that his headache or toothache has been cured by his arrival, and these flowery compliments escort the ordinary guest to the door, but if he be of superior rank the host walks in advance to the foot of the stairs, and repeats the compliments there.
The etiquette concerning pipes is most elaborate. Kalians are invariably used among the rich. The great man brings his own, and his own pipe-bearer. The kalian is a water pipe, and whatever its form the principle is the same, the smoke being conducted to the bottom of a liberal supply of water, to be sucked up in bubbles through it with a gurgling noise, as in the Indian “hubble-bubble.” This water-holder is decanter-shaped, of plain or cut glass, with a wide mouth; the fire-holder, as in the case of the Governor’s pipe, is often a work of high art, in thin gold, chased, engraved, decorated with repoussé work, or incrusted with turquoises, or ornamented with rich enamel, very costly, £40 or even £50 being paid by rich men for the decoration of a single pipe-head. Between this and the water-holder is a long wooden tube about fourteen inches long, from one end of which an inner tube passes to the bottom of the water. A hole in the side of the tube admits the flexible smoking tube, more used in Turkey than in Persia, or the wooden stem, about eighteen inches long. The fire-holder is lined with clay and plaster of Paris. Besides these there is the wind-guard, to prevent the fire from falling or becoming too hot, usually of silver, with dependent silver chains, and four or six silver or gold chains terminating in flat balls hang from the fire-holder.
The kalian is one of the greatest institutions of Persia. No man stirs without it, and as its decoration gives an idea of a man’s social position, immense sums are lavished upon it, and the pipe-bearer is a most important person. The lighting is troublesome, and after all there seems “much ado about nothing,” for a few whiffs exhaust its capacities.
The tobacco, called tumbaku, which is smoked in kalians is exceptionally poisonous. It cannot be used in the first year, and improves with age, being preserved in bags sewn up in raw hide. Unless it is moistened it produces alarming vertigo. When the kalian is required, about three-quarters of an ounce is moistened, squeezed like a sponge, and packed in the fire-holder, and morsels of live charcoal, if possible made from the root of the vine, are laid upon it and blown into a strong frame. The pipe-bearer takes two or three draws, and with an obeisance hands it with much solemnity to his master. Abdul Rahim smokes three or four pipes every evening, and coffee served with the last is the signal for his departure.
A guest, if he does not bring his own pipe and pipe-bearer, has a kalian offered to him, but if the host be of higher rank any one but an ignoramus refuses it till he has smoked first. If under such circumstances a guest incautiously accepts it, he is invariably mortified by seeing it sent into the ante-room to be cleaned and refilled before his superior will smoke. If it be proper for him to take it, he offers it in order of rank to all present, but takes good care that none accept it till he has enjoyed it, after which the attendant passes it round according to rank. In cases of only one kalian and several guests, they smoke in order of position but each one must pay the compliment of suggesting that some one else should smoke before himself. The etiquette of smoking is most rigid. I heard of a case here in which a mollah, who objected to smoke after a European, offered it to one after he had smoked himself – so gross a piece of impertinence that the other called the pipe-bearer, saying, “You can break that pipe to pieces, and burn the stick, I do not care to smoke it,” upon which the mollah, knowing that his violation of etiquette merited this sharp rebuke, turned pale and replied, “You say truly, I have eaten dirt.”
The lower classes smoke a coarse Turkish tobacco, or a Persian mild sort looking like whitish sawdust, which is merely the pounded leaf, stalk and stem. The pipe they use and carry in their girdles has a small iron, brass, or clay head, and a straight cherry-wood stick, with a very wide bore and no mouthpiece, which is not placed in the teeth but is merely held between the lips. Smoking seems a necessity rather than a luxury in Persia, and is one of the great features of social life.
Kirmanshah is famous for its “rugs,” as carpets are called in this country. There are from twenty-five to thirty kinds with their specific names. Aniline dyes have gone far to ruin this manufacture, but their import is now prohibited. A Persian would not look at the carpets loosely woven and with long pile, which are made for the European market, and are bought just now from the weavers at 13s. the square yard. A carpet, according to Persian notions, must be of fast colours, fine pile, scarcely longer than Utrecht velvet, and ready to last at least a century. A rug can scarcely be said to have reached its prime or artistic mellowness of tint till it has been “down” for ten years. The permanence of the dyes is tested by rubbing the rug with a wet cloth, when the worthless colours at once come off.
Among the real, good old Persian carpets there are very few patterns, though colouring and borders vary considerably. A good carpet, if new, is always stiff; the ends when doubled should meet evenly. There must be no creases, or any signs on the wrong side of darning or “fine-drawing” having been resorted to for taking out creases, and there must be no blue in the white cotton finish at the ends. Carpets with much white are prized, as the white becomes primrose, a colour which wears well. Our host has given me a rug of the oldest Persian pattern, on a white ground, very thin and fine. Large patterns and thick wool are comparatively cheap. It is nearly impossible to say what carpets sell at, for if one has been made by a family and poverty presses, it may be sold much under value, or if it is a good one and they can hold on they may force a carpet fancier to give a very high price. From what Abdul Rahim says, the price varies from 13s. to 50s. a square yard, the larger carpets, about fourteen feet by eight feet, selling for £40.



CABOOL: BEING A PERSONAL NARRATIVE OF A JOURNEY TO, AND RESIDENCE IN THAT CITY
BY LIEUT.-COL. SIR ALEXANDER BURNES, C.B.
1842


Shortly after disembarking on the coast of Sinde an opportunity was presented us of examining a square-rigged vessel, which had been embedded in the Deltá of the Indus, and left, by the caprice of the river, on dry land, about twenty miles from the sea, near the fort of Vikkur, where it has lain since the time of the Calorás, the dynasty preceding that which now reigns in Sinde. This vessel, called “Armat” by the Sindians, is about 70 feet long and 28 in breadth: she seems to have been a brig of war, pierced for 14 guns, and capable of carrying not more than 200 tons English; her greatest draft of water, marked on the stern-post, being only 9 feet, which is less than is drawn by some of the present country boats of 40 tons (160 candies). It is, however, obvious that the Indus was at one time entered by vessels of a different description from those now in use, as this half-fossilized ship, if I can so call her, amply proves. The word “Armat” suggests the idea that the vessel was Portuguese, and that it is a corruption of Armada. There was also a Roman Catholic cross on the figure-head, and we know that the Portuguese burned Tattá in 1555, though this vessel, I imagine, belongs to a much later period of the history of that nation. We dug up from her hold six small brass guns, about twenty gun-barrels, and four hundred balls and shells, the latter filled with powder. These implements of war were found near the stern in the armoury, so that it is probable the vessel foundered: her position is now erect; and a large tamarisk tree grows out of her deck. The sailors call her “Nou Khureed,” or the new purchase, and state her to have been left last century in her present site, where she remains a singular object.

One of the first applications which we received was from the Nawab, who requested us to supply him with some platina wire, to aid his studies in alchymy. I took the occasion to inquire into the state of the science, which has always been in such high favour among the Afghans, and was forthwith made acquainted with several ways of making gold, by which the adepts trick their credulous employers. One of these is by secretly introducing some gold inside the charcoal, and, after the quicksilver has been evaporated, the more precious metal is left to delight the wiseacre, and to tempt him on to further expenses. Another method is to put the filings of gold into a stick or a pipe, and fasten the end with wax; with this rod the materials in the crucible are stirred, and the desired result obtained.


A POPULAR ACCOUNT OF THE MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF INDIA
BY THE REV. T. ACLAND
1847

When my wife goes to sleep, the little black boy, with no covering but a pair of drawers and a cap, stands near and fans her, while every now and then he sprinkles her face with water as she reclines on the sofa.
The people here are nearly all black, and wear very little clothing. The population is extensive. At dinner we have generally eight or ten men to wait upon us, but they are slow in their movements, and very lazy. The Arabian Nights mentions the fakirs. I have seen some here that have let their feet grow in one position until they cannot move them.
Some of the inhabitants of Madras are afflicted with a curious kind of disease, in which one leg swells to the size of a man’s body, while the other is no thicker than the limb of an infant.
When you meet in the street with a native who is at all acquainted with you, or who wishes to express his thanks for anything, instead of merely saying “Thank you,” or “How do you do?” he presses his hands upon his eyes, and says “Salaam, sahib.” Some English persons, on going out for a walk, may be seen to carry a whip, with which, if the natives are at all troublesome, they lash them; but this is a cruel practice. Ladies are prevented by the heat from walking abroad here, and gentlemen seldom do so, but go about in what are called palanquins, which I will describe hereafter. When we ride out, however swiftly we go, a man called a coolie runs by the side of the carriage. We are obliged to get up here at about half-past five in the morning, and then we go out for a drive, or in the palanquin; at half-past seven the sun is too powerful even for that exercise: we then return home, take a cold bath, and breakfast. At half-past six in the evening we are enabled to go out again a little. In the middle of the day we take a nap.

My costume here would make you smile. I wear thin shoes, white stockings, white trousers, a short black cassock reaching a little below the knees, and a hat made of pith covered with black merino—the crown is about four inches high, and the rim about six or seven inches wide. This is my out-of-door dress. Indoors, unless when any one calls, I wear a white jacket instead of the cassock. I am without any waistcoat. At a dinner-party, black silk socks, black trousers, and my long black silk cassock.
The only coins in use at Midnapore are the pice and the rupee; the pice is worth a farthing and a half, and the rupee about two shillings. Another kind of money passes here, viz. a little shell called a cowrie, of which 120 are worth a pice. At Madras and Calcutta there are many other sorts.
The insects are a great nuisance here. If the candles were not protected by a glass shade they would be instantly extinguished. Thousands of insects of all sizes swarm, jumping and flying about the lamps, of all colours, green, yellow, blue; and many of them sting, whilst others smell most abominably.
Every morning the mollie, or gardener, brings in a basket of vegetables for us to look at, and select what we shall require for the day’s consumption. The cold weather here begins about the middle of October, generally on the 15th, and we are all looking very anxiously for it; but by cold I mean only a lower degree of heat as will enable us to go out in the middle of the day (provided we carry a great parasol), which we cannot do now.
At a dinner-party every one brings his or her own table servant. This assemblage has a very pretty appearance: the ladies are all in white dresses and short sleeves, and the gentlemen in white jackets and trowsers, except the Major and myself; he wears a red jacket, and I a black cassock. Behind each chair stands a dark-brown man with long black beard and mustashios, dressed in a sort of white tunic and a white turban, with a coloured sash wound several times round the waist. As it would be the greatest mark of disrespect for a servant to appear in the presence of his master with covered feet, they all leave their shoes outside the door. After the meat is cleared away, before the puddings are brought in, the servants go out and smoke for five minutes. There is not a man , wither Mussulman or Hindoo, except of the very lowest caste, who would eat anything that came from the table of a European. They would consider it a degradation, and would not even drink out of anything we had ever used, or touch what we had cooked. The Hindoos eat only once a-day, unless on their grand feasts. Their food then is boiled rice, with perhaps an onion and a little spice in it, which they eat with their hands.

We have a grand house in the compound, and have, besides, a flower-garden with orange and lemon trees, &c. A river three miles broad flows near, and a ghaut, or landing-place, for pilgrims proceeding to Juggernat΄h, a Hindu holy temple. We can see in the distance a range of hills, rising abruptly from the other side of the river, which are a continuation of those at Balasore. On the sands are storks, wild-geese, and all sorts of aquatic birds; even all the tanks here abound with alligators. The other day one of the officers was returning home from mess; it was dark, and in his compound he fell over something which proved to be a large alligator, making its way from the river to a tank, probably with a view of there depositing her eggs. About three weeks ago a poor woman went to fetch water from one of these places, on the surface of which were weeds; she was engaged in clearing a space with her hands, when one of these animals, with its jaw open, caught her arm and stripped off all the flesh below the elbow. She was compelled to have her arm amputated.
I saw to-day a large hyæna gliding across the compound. I suppose he smelt some dead body on the beach. The Juggernath pilgrims come from very great distances, and many die on the road. In my compound alone, if I were to collect the skulls, bones, &c., I think I could make up eight or ten human skeletons. The other evening one of my servants came to me, and said, “If you please, sir, there is a dead pilgrim in the compound, and the matee wants to know if he shall throw it away;”—that is, throw it down on the bank for the jackals, &c. I would not let him do this, but sent notice to the commanding officer, who sent for the body, and, I suppose, threw it away. About two hours after this my wife was gone to bed, and I was sitting reading, when I felt something on my foot; I examined it and in my stocking found a large centipede. I contrived to kill him without being stung.


A RESIDENCE AMONG THE CHINESE
BY ROBERT FORTUNE
1857


Leaving Ningpo at daybreak, with the ebb-tide and a fair wind, we sailed rapidly down the river, and in three hours we were off the fort of Chinhae, where the river falls into the sea. As we passed Chinhae anchorage a number of boats got up their anchors and stood out to sea along with us, probably with the view of protecting each other, and getting that protection from the “Erin” which her presence afforded. When we had got well out of the river, and opened up the northern passage, a sight was presented to view which was well calculated to excite alarm for our safety. Several piratical lorchas and junks were blockading the passage between the mainland and Silver Island, and seizing every vessel that attempted to pass in or out of the river. These vessels were armed to the teeth, and manned with as great a set of rascals as could be found on the coast of China.
These lawless hordes went to work in the following manner. They concealed themselves behind the islands or headlands until the unfortunate junk or boat they determined to pounce upon had got almost abreast of them, and too far to put about and get out of their way. They then stood boldly out and fired into her in order to bring her to; at the same time hooting and yelling like demons as they are. The unfortunate vessel sees her position when too late; in the most of instances resistance is not attempted, and she becomes an easy prize. If resistance has not been made, and no lives lost to the pirate, the captain and crew of the captured vessel are treated kindly, although they are generally plundered of everything in their possession to which the pirates take a fancy.
The jan-dows, as the pirates are called, have their dens in out-of-the-way anchorages amongst the islands, and to these places they take their unfortunate prizes, either to be plundered or to be ransomed for large sums by their owners at Ningpo, according to circumstances. Negociations are immediately commenced; messengers pass to and fro between the outlaws at the piratical stations, only a few miles from the mouth of the river, and the rich ship-owners at Ningpo; and these negociations are sometimes carried on for weeks ere a satisfactory arrangement can be made between the parties concerned. And it will scarcely be credited—but it is true nevertheless—that within a few miles from where these pirates with their prizes are at anchor there are numerous Chinese “men-of-war” (!) manned and armed for the service of their country.
Many of the boats which had weighed anchor as we passed Chinghae put about and went back to their anchorage. The little “Erin,” however, with several others, stood boldly onwards in the direction of the piratical fleet, and were soon in the midst of it. At this time some of them were engaged in capturing a Shantung junk which had fallen into the trap they had laid for her. We were so near some of the others that I could distinctly see the features of the men, and what they were doing on the decks of their vessels. They seemed to be watching us very narrowly, and in one vessel the crew were getting their guns to bear upon our boat. They were perfectly quiet, however; no hooting or yelling was heard, and as these are the usual preludes to an attack it was just possible they were prepared to act on the defensive only.
The whole scene was in the highest degree exciting; their guns were manned, the torch was ready to be applied to the touchhole, and any moment we might be saluted with a cannon-ball or a shower of grape. Our gallant little boat, however, kept on her way, nor deviated in the slightest degree from her proper course. The steersman stood fast to the helm, the master—Andrew, a brave Swede—walked on the top of the house which was built over three-parts of the deck, and the passengers crowded the deck in front of the house. Every eye was fixed upon the motions of the pirates.
When our excitement was at the highest pitch the pirates hoisted a signal, which was a welcome sight to our crew, and although I have, perhaps, as much bravery as the generality of people, I confess it was a welcome sight to myself. The signal which produced such results was neither more nor less than a Chinaman’s jacket hoisted in the rigging. I believe any other article of clothing would do equally well. It will not be found in Marryat’s code, but its meaning is, “Let us alone and we will let you.” This amicable arrangement was readily agreed to; a jacket was hoisted in our rigging as a friendly reply to the pirates, and we passed through their lines unharmed.
During the time they were in sight we observed several vessels from the north fall into their hands. They were in such numbers, and their plans were so well laid, that nothing that passed in daylight could possibly escape. Long after we had lost sight of their vessels we saw and pitied the unsuspecting northern junks running down with a fair wind and all sail into the trap which had been prepared for them.
We experienced head-winds nearly the whole way, and, consequently, made a long passage, and had frequently to anchor. I rather think Andrew attributed this luck to the two clergymen we had on board; but if he did he may be excused, for wiser heads than his have had their prejudices on this point. Whatever luck we had as regards the weather we were certainly most fortunate in getting so well out of the hands of the pirates, and in fairness this ought to be taken into consideration.



TYPEE: A ROMANCE OF THE SOUTH SEA
BY HERMAN MELVILLE
1846

Those who for the first time visit the South Sea, generally are surprised at the appearance of the islands when beheld from the sea. From the vague accounts we sometimes have of their beauty, many people are apt to picture to themselves enamelled and softly swelling plains, shaded over with delicious groves, and watered by purling brooks, and the entire country but little elevated above the surrounding ocean. The reality is very different; bold rock-bound coasts, with the surf beating high against the lofty cliffs, and broken here and there into deep inlets, which open to the view thickly-wooded valleys, separated by the spurs of mountains clothed with tufted grass, and sweeping down towards the sea from an elevated and furrowed interior, form the principal features of these islands.
Towards noon we drew abreast the entrance go the harbour, and at last we slowly swept by the intervening promontory, and entered the bay of Nukuheva. No description can do justice to its beauty; but that beauty was lost to me then, and I saw nothing but the tri-coloured flag of France trailing over the stern of six vessels, whose black hulls and bristling broadsides proclaimed their warlike character. There they were, floating in that lovely bay, the green eminences of the shore looking down so tranquilly upon them, as if rebuking the sternness of their aspect. To my eye nothing could be more out of keeping than the presence of these vessels; but we soon learnt what brought them there. The whole group of islands had just been taken possession of by Rear-Admiral Du Petit Thouars, in the name of the invincible French nation.
This item of information was imparted to us by a most extraordinary individual, a genuine South-Sea vagabond, who came alongside of us in a whale-boat as soon as we entered the bay, and, by the aid of some benevolent persons at the gangway, was assisted on board, for our visitor was in that interesting stage of intoxication when a man is amiable and helpless. Although he was utterly unable to stand erect or to navigate his body across the deck, he still magnanimously proffered his services to pilot the ship to a good and secure anchorage. Our captain, however, rather distrusted his ability in this respect, and refused to recognize his claim to the character he assumed; but our gentleman was determined to play his part, for, by dint of much scrambling, he succeeded in getting into the weather-quarter boat, where he steadied himself by holding on to a shroud, and then commenced issuing his commands with amazing volubility and very peculiar gestures. Of course no one obeyed his orders; but as it was impossible to quiet him, we swept by the ships of the squadron with this strange fellow performing his antics in full view of all the French officers.
We afterwards learned that our eccentric friend had been a lieutenant in the English navy; but having disgraced his flag by some criminal conduct in one of the principal ports on the main, he had deserted his ship, and spent many years wandering among the islands of the Pacific, until accidentally being at Nukuheva when the French took possession of the place, he had been appointed pilot of the harbour by the newly constituted authorities.
As we slowly advanced up the bay, numerous canoes pushed off from the surrounding shores, and we were soon in the midst of quite a flotilla of them, their savage occupants struggling to get aboard of us, and jostling one another in their ineffectual attempts. Occasionally the projecting out-riggers of their slight shallops running foul of one another, would become entangled beneath the water, threatening to capsize the canoes, when a scene of confusion would ensue that baffles description. Such strange outcries and passionate gesticulations I never certainly heard or saw before. You would have thought the islanders were on the point of flying at each other's throats, whereas they were only amicably engaged in disentangling their boats.
Scattered here and there among the canoes might be seen numbers of cocoanuts floating closely together in circular groups, and bobbing up and down with every wave. By some inexplicable means these cocoanuts were all steadily approaching towards the ship. As I leaned curiously over the side, endeavouring to solve their mysterious movements, one mass far in advance of the rest attracted my attention. In its centre was something I could take for nothing else than a cocoanut, but which I certainly considered one of the most extraordinary specimens of the fruit I had ever seen. It kept twirling and dancing about among the rest in the most singular manner, and as it drew nearer I thought it bore a remarkable resemblance to the brown shaven skull of one of the savages. Presently it betrayed a pair of eyes, and soon I became aware that what I had supposed to have been one of the fruit was nothing else than the head of an islander, who had adopted this singular method of bringing his produce to market. The cocoanuts were all attached to one another by strips of the husk, partly torn from the shell and rudely fastened together. Their proprietor inserting his head into the midst of them, impelled his necklace of cocoanuts through the water by striking out beneath the surface with his feet.
I was somewhat astonished to perceive that among the number of natives that surrounded us, not a single female was to be seen. At that time I was ignorant of the fact that by the operation of the 'taboo' the use of canoes in all parts of the island is rigorously prohibited to the entire sex, for whom it is death even to be seen entering one when hauled on shore; consequently, whenever a Marquesan lady voyages by water, she puts in requisition the paddles of her own fair body.
We had approached within a mile and a half perhaps of this foot of the bay, when some of the islanders, who by this time had managed to scramble aboard of us at the risk of swamping their canoes, directed our attention to a singular commotion in the water ahead of the vessel. At first I imagined it to be produced by a shoal of fish sporting on the surface, but our savage friends assured us that it was caused by a shoal of 'whinhenies' (young girls), who in this manner were coming off from the shore to welcome is. As they drew nearer, and I watched the rising and sinking of their forms, and beheld the uplifted right arm bearing above the water the girdle of tappa, and their long dark hair trailing beside them as they swam, I almost fancied they could be nothing else than so many mermaids--and very like mermaids they behaved too.




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NARRATIVE OF A SURVEY OF THE INTERTROPICAL AND WESTERN COASTS OF AUSTRALIA
CAPTAIN PHILLIP P. KING
1827

The boomerang is a very formidable weapon; it is a short, curved piece of heavy wood, and is propelled through the air by the hand in so skilful a manner, that the thrower alone knows where it will fall. It is generally thrown against the wind, and takes a rapid rotary motion. It is used by the natives with success in killing the kangaroo, and is, I believe, more a hunting than a warlike weapon. The size varies from eighteen to thirty inches in length, and from two to three inches broad. The shape is that of an obtuse angle rather than a crescent: one in my possession is twenty-six inches long, its greatest breadth two inches and a half, thickness half an inch, and the angle formed from the centre is 140º. Boomerang is the Port Jackson term for this weapon, and may be retained for want of a more descriptive name. There is a drawing of it by M. Lesueur in Plate XXII. (Fig. 6,) of PERON’S Atlas; it is there described by the name of sabre à ricochet. This plate may, by the way, be referred to for drawings of the greater number of the weapons used by the Port Jackson natives, all of which, excepting the identical boomerang, are very well delineated. M. Lesueur has, however, failed in his sabre à ricochet.

On the following day, when our people resumed their occupation, they were again cautioned not to trust to the apparent absence of the natives. In the afternoon Mr. Roe walked along the beach with his gun in quest of birds: on his way be met Mr. Hunter returning from a walk, in which he had encountered no recent signs of the Indians. This information emboldened Mr. Roe to wander further than was prudent, and in the mean time Mr. Hunter returned to our party in order to go on board; he had, however, scarcely reached our station when the report of a musket and Mr. Roe’s distant shouting were heard. The people immediately seized their arms and hastened to his relief, and by this prompt conduct probably saved his life.
It appeared that, after parting from Mr. Hunter, he left the beach and pursued his walk among the trees; he had not proceeded more than fifty yards when he fired at a bird: he was cautious enough to reload before he moved from the spot in search of his game, but this was scarcely done before a boomerang whizzed past his head, and struck a tree close by with great force. Upon looking round towards the verge of the cliff, which was about twenty yards off, he saw several natives; who, upon finding they were discovered, set up a loud and savage yell, and threw another boomerang and several spears at him, all of which providentially missed. Emboldened by their numbers and by his apparent defenceless situation, they were following up the attack by a nearer approach, when he fired amongst them, and, for a moment, stopped their advance. Mr. Roe’s next care was to reload, but to his extreme mortification and dismay he found his cartouch box had turned round in the belt, and every cartridge had dropped out: being thus deprived of his ammunition, and having no other resource left but to make his escape, he turned round, and ran towards the beach; at the same time shouting loudly, to apprize our people of his danger. He was now pursued by three of the natives, whilst the rest ran along the cliff to cut off his retreat.
On his reaching the edge of the water, he found the sand so soft that at every step his feet sunk three or four inches, which so distressed him and impeded his progress, that he must soon have fallen overpowered with fatigue, had not the sudden appearance of our people, at the same time that it inspired him with fresh hopes of escape, arrested the progress of the natives, who, after throwing two or three spears without effect, stopped, and gave him time to join our party, quite spent with the extraordinary effort he had made to save his life.


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