ferns-, through tall forest trees festooned with creepers and epiphytous orchids, to the flora of a temperate climate, and the familiar forms of artichoke and strawberry, primula and plantago. Down the steep slopes tumble many streams, their temperature varying between the boiling point and icy coldness, and in the tepid spray of the hot cascades tree-ferns attain their greatest size, rivalling tall palms in height, and excelling them in the gracefulness of their feathery fronds. Near the top of the mountain trees diminish in size, but the undergrowth is still so thick that it is almost impossible to leave the path. The crater on the highest peak is extinct and overgrown with vegetation, but clouds of mephitic vapor rise from a huge crater somewhat lower, and spread desolation around; when the volcano is active, these vapors reduce large tracts of forest to blackened skeletons, but nature soon repairs her own ravages in a climate like that of Sunda. Animals are rarely heard and yet more rarely seen in these dense jungles, but occasionally a troop of large monkeys may leap crashing from tree to tree, or a great hornbill may fly overhead on creaking wings, and near the summit the twittering of small warblers reminds one of Europe, almost as much as do the honeysuckle and St. John's wort. Large game, in the shape of rhinoceros, tiger, deer, wild bull and wild boars, is indeed abundant in the forests of Java, but is not easily dislodged in such cover, and tigers are more frequently destroyed with poison than in any other manner. The poison used is a decoction from the root of a tree, and has the effect of paralyzing the animal, which is usually found alive and helpless within a short distance of the poisoned carcase and is then despatched. If the tiger is dead when found the skin is sure to be worthless, but by this method splendid specimens are obtained when the track is taken up immediately. Wild pigs do much damage in the rice-fields, and the villagers use for scaring them an ingenious mechanical contrivance, which is worked by the water-power used in irrigation; there are two distinct species indigenous in Java and they afford considerable sport, being shot with the aid of beaters and dogs.
Java is in perfection just after the rains, during the months of April and May, when the whole country, from the smoking craters of the interior to the swamps of the seacoast, is clothed with a vegetation so luxuriant that the ruddy color of the volcanic soil is only visible where a recent landslip has occurred; even precipitous banks are densely festooned with green, and so saturated is the ground with moisture that watercresses flourish on the steep face of roadside cuttings. In plain and valley every square yard of soil, except the village burial-ground, is cultivated and irrigated; magnificent crops of sugarcane, rice, and indigo form a sea of verdure, out of which rise like islands numberless groves of bamboos, cocoanut palms, and fruit-trees. Concealed in these groves are the dessas, or native villages, and under their shade is usually cultivated the coffee, which "pays the rent." Some of the lower ranges have been denuded of trees, and display a certain amount of open pasture, but as a rule the mountains are covered with virgin forest, except where clearings have been made for plantations of tea, coffee, or cinchona. High above this fair scene a faint white cloud may be seen curling upwards from the apex of a lofty cone, indicating the volcanic energy that now slumbers beneath, but has broken out violently even within the last few years, and may do so again at any moment.
It may be asked whether the geological condition of Java is not a symbol of its political state, and whether a fair surface does not cover hidden fires in the hearts of the Javanese people. It may be so, but not even a faint white cloud is visible to warn the stranger that such hidden fires exist. Everything externally is tranquil, and in the absence of all means of coercion, tranquillity may be accepted as a fair evidence of contentment. In the wide and populous district of the Preanger Regencies for example, there are no troops at all. A few European soldiers in civil employ and a few native policemen represent the power of the sword, and the most perfect order prevails throughout this beautiful province. The productiveness of the country appears to keep pace with the increasing population. The wants of the masses in all tropical countries are few and simple, and in Java these are amply supplied. While the masses thus enjoy comparative prosperity, those of rank and influence, who might otherwise be dangerous, are enlisted on the side of the government by the possession or the prospect of honorable and lucrative employment. Besides, the Javanese are a gentle and submissive race, unaccustomed to the use of firearms, and could never be formidable as insurgents in a military sense,[1]
- ↑ A Dutch poem describes in glowing language "the last day of the Hollanders in Java," when the long-pent-up fury of the Javanese is to break forth.
