CHAPTER IX

KAMORTA

The Old Settlement—The Cemetery—F. A. de Röepstorff—Mortality—Birds—The Harbour—Appearance of Kamorta—Dring Harbour—Olta-möit—Buffalo—Spirit Traffic—Cookery—Ceremonial Dress—A Visit from Tanamara—Geology—Flora—Topography—Population—Hamilton's Description.

On several occasions we crossed the harbour and visited the locality of the convict settlement formerly established on Kamorta, but given up in 1888, when the buildings were dismantled, and sepoys and prisoners withdrawn to Port Blair.

The jetty on which one lands is more than a hundred yards long, and although solidly constructed of coral blocks, is now in need of partial repair. To the right is a long sea-wall, and on the other hand a small boat harbour, both built of coral. Beyond the agent's house at the foot of the jetty, one walks along a grass-grown road shaded by an avenue of tall casuarinas, and passes several large wells of strong brickwork, and a large tank for rain water, with various other traces of past occupation, till on the hill-top one comes on the remains of the Government bungalow, of which only the foundations are now to be seen. A little farther on is the only building now standing—the old powder store—"where nothing's here that's worth defence, they leave a magazine!"

On another hill close by—from which are to be seen the whole stretch of the beautiful harbour, the distant forest-clad slopes of Kachal and the grassy interior of Kamorta—lies the little cemetery with its two occupants—Nicolas Shimmings, chief engineer of the R.I.M.S. Kwangtung, and Frederick Adolph de Röepstorff, a Dane by nationality, and for some time superintendent of the settlement. Tanamara told us of his death, which occurred in 1883. Complaint had been made that one of the sepoys of the small force stationed here was in the habit of stealing the natives' coconuts; him the superintendent reprimanded, and threatened to send to Port Blair for punishment. Next day the sepoy shot at and wounded de Röepstorff while the latter was in the act of mounting a horse. The injured man despatched a letter to the Andamans by a Burmese trader, but died before the arrival of a steamer, five days later. He was nursed and buried by the Nicobarese, who would not allow the Indian servants to approach him.[55] "He was," said Tanamara, "a good man, a very good man." He took much interest in all that surrounded him, and besides contributing accounts of the Andamans and Nicobars to the journals of the Asiatic Society of Bengal, he made large collections of lepidoptera for the Calcutta Museum, and compiled vocabularies of several of the local languages.[56]

Nowadays, all that marks our possession of these islands is the Colonial Jack, presided over by a Hindu; all that shows our past occupation, fallen brickwork, grass-grown roads and graves: these things, and the result of our contact with the native inhabitants. In the north, some knowledge of the English speech, and the beginning of education; here the suppression of piracy.

The agent told us that in the group people were dying almost day by day; the cause, from his description, ague and malaria.[57] Beyond two or three slight cases of elephantiasis, we ourselves noticed no symptoms of disease amongst the adults, but the children nearly all seemed to be suffering from yaws.

The country around the settlement is very undulating, and covered with long grass growing on a sterile clay. It was almost lifeless, for we saw little more than wagtails, pipits, and an occasional button-quail (Turnix albiventris and Excalfactoria, sp. nov.); but in one of the numerous gullies between the hills we found a little jheel where formerly paddy had been grown, and floating on its surface was a small flock of whistling teal (Dendrocygna javanica). A couple were dropped before they flew out of range, and next day we met in the same place a larger number, which all got off scot free; but a falcon (F. peregrinus), that like ourselves had just made an unsuccessful attack, was soon reposing in a game-bag, in company with a chestnut heron (A. cinnomomea), and a redshank.

On February 11th, when we left our anchorage, the breeze was very light, and bore the schooner slowly through the calm waters of the harbour as we steered for the western exit.

All around, the shores sloped downward, covered with dense forest, but now and again the inland hills rose grass-clad above the tree-tops; on either hand we passed small villages, Itoë (six houses), and Pachoak (five houses), placed just above the edge of the water.

The western opening is bold and rocky, but very narrow; and among the boulders of the shore are several blow-holes, from which, when the sea rolls on the beach, spouts of water fly upwards and break into showers of spray.

Outside, the wind was still light, and we tacked along the coast for some hours before it strengthened. Much of this side of Kamorta consists of low broken hills with pointed summits looking like volcanic cones—a grassy country, varied by occasional small patches of forest—while along the shore low bluffs and stretches of coco palms succeed each other.

Soon we passed the entrance of Expedition Harbour, a deep, land-locked bight, separated from Nankauri Harbour by a narrow strip of land; this was the reputed headquarters of the band of piratical savages who formerly committed so many depredations in this neighbourhood. Near by, Mount Edgecombe, of a very volcanic appearance, rises about 400 feet.

This shore seems but little inhabited, for until we reached our destination at 4 P.M., we saw only one small village of four or five houses.

The wind was off the land when we arrived at Dring Harbour, and since the entrance was narrowed by rocks and reefs projecting from either side, we lowered all sail and warped in.

The bay is about half a mile square, and the head, which is slightly wider than the mouth, is bordered by a long sandy beach, backed by a belt of scrub and palm trees, from a quarter to half a mile in depth. The other shores are partially formed by small cliffs, with a thin fringe of jungle, bounding grassy hills and downs.

The village of Olta-möit (fifteen to twenty houses), "Captain John," headman, lies along the beach, which abuts at the southern end upon a fair-sized creek leading to a mangrove swamp at the back of the houses. Several natives came on board at once, in expectation of a feed; none spoke English, but all understood Malay.

The patch of jungle about the village is rather small, and to reach more necessitated a walk of some miles; we succeeded, however, in adding to our collection a diminutive serpent-eagle (Spilornis minimus), and caught sight in the denser jungle of a fresh variety of a little forest hawk. Specimens were also obtained of a small bat which has since been named Pipistrellus camortæ.

The neighbourhood of the harbour has for long been frequented by descendants of buffaloes, turned loose by the Danes when they abandoned their settlement at Nankauri. Formerly it is said that large herds were to be met with in the neighbourhood; but we learnt, both from the inhabitants and from the Port Register, that the animals are now becoming very scarce, and only a few have recently been killed by visitors from the station gunboat.

I was out after them on two consecutive days. Both had been preceded by nights of rain, through which tracking was much facilitated. The country round is very undulating, often broken by deep gullies, and covered here and there with small patches of jungle, while everywhere are scattered pandanus trees, either in clumps or singly. On both occasions I picked up fresh tracks in the red clayey soil when some distance from the village, and after following them for several miles lost them in distant jungle. There seemed to be only two animals in the neighbourhood—one very large indeed, and the other of much smaller size. This decline in numbers is not due to the natives, who, with their spears only, could cause little destruction, and who evince no eagerness to pursue.

Tracks of pig were innumerable, and every now and then a bunch of little quail whirled away from beneath my feet. Although out by 5 A.M., I was not early enough; at three o'clock on a moonlight night one would probably be more fortunate.

In 1870, chital and sambhar were turned out on Kamorta, but nothing is now seen of them, except by the natives, who state that from time to time a few have been perceived here, and at Trinkat, which they reached by swimming the narrow channel intervening.

One afternoon was devoted to the exploration of the creek, which is rather deep at the mouth, and navigable by boat for several miles; all this distance it is bordered by the usual wearisome mangrove forest, in which, however, we saw numbers of parrots, whimbrel, and pigeons.

The proportion of old men among the people of the village seemed even greater than was the case at Malacca. On the headman, John, we met with the only case of tattooing found in the islands—probably the work of some Burmese trader, for neither Nicobarese nor Shom Peṅ tattoo or scarify themselves.

A second junk joined that already in the harbour the day after our arrival, and everybody on shore was soon drunk. The inference is obvious. The authorities at Port Blair prohibit the supply of intoxicants to the natives, and whenever they are found on board trading vessels, spirits are confiscated, and a small fine levied, in cash or articles of barter to the value of about a hundred dollars. This, however, is not always a sufficient deterrent, and on a second conviction, the Chinese skipper is awarded six months' rigorous imprisonment in the jail at Viper Island, Port Blair. The spirit is invaluable to the traders in their dealings with the natives, and is so inexpensive, that they can afford to risk its loss, since the chance of discovery is about one in a hundred.

A small feast was held during our visit, for which a number of pigs were prepared. Torches, made by binding immense palm leaves together, were set fire to, and the bristles singed off by fanning the flame on to the animals as they lay on the ground.

"Captain John" was resplendent for the occasion in a neng and dress-coat, and a friend of his looked very imposing in an officer's frogged and braided tunic.

The day before we left we were surprised by the appearance of Tanamara, who arrived with one companion in a small canoe. He had declined to come up in the schooner, on the excuse that fever-devils and other evil spirits were very active in this locality. He was, he assured us, very sorry for us alone up here, and had had a dream which resulted in his setting out. (I am uncharitable enough to think that that dream had something to do with rum!) He did not wish to be seen by the shore people, of whom he seemed afraid, for he stayed aboard all day, and in the evening, when some of them came off to the ship, left for a time in his canoe. Next morning he departed at daybreak, that he might not be observed from the village.

We ourselves made sail a few hours later, with the intention of visiting Teressa. We took in water at Dring, but the only supplies obtained were coconuts.

Kamorta is 15 miles long, and of a general width of 4 miles: it attains in the extreme south-west a height of 735 feet, and in the centre rises 435 feet, but the average elevation is about 200 feet. It is of the same geological structure as Nankauri, but is covered with far less forest, and its extensive grassy downs are dotted with patches of scrub, bracken, and pandani. The presence of casuarinas high up in the middle of the island is peculiar. This species as a rule is found only on the coasts, but here they were planted by the Settlement authorities at the Government cattle-stations (between 1869-88), as it was found that this tree delights in the polycistina clay. The neighbourhood of Dring Harbour is extremely well watered, as nearly each one of the many gullies has either a stream or pond in it. A stratum of a sandy nature underlies the surface clay of this district, and by washing away, causes the latter to fall in, with the result that a number of curious hollows are formed on the tops of the rolling hills. This tendency leads to parts of the downs becoming terraced as if by artificial agency. Some thirty villages are scattered along its coasts, and the population, according to the census, has increased, principally by immigration from Chaura and other islands, from 359 in 1886 to 488 at the present day.

Of the central group of islands, Hamilton writes:—