land
a Dutch officer, bound for the important barracks on a hill above the
straggling _campong_, after a successful expedition against the
tree-dwellers, cannibals, and slave-traders of the interior, still sunk
in barbarism. An olive-green river, infested with crocodiles, flows
sluggishly through rank vegetation into the sea below the dilapidated
huts of the depressing native town. This forlorn outpost of military
duty involves exile from civilisation, and the risk of occasional raids
from the wild tribes of the surrounding hills.

At Parigi, canopied by spreading palms, the _atap_ houses, with bamboo
rafters strengthening the fragile walls, stand in neglected gardens,
overgrown with a tangle of flower and foliage. The low tide makes the
dangerous _bloto_ a necessity, though the hollowed tree, top heavy and
water-logged, is in imminent peril of capsizing every minute of the
long course between ship and shore. Objections to a boat upsetting in
shallow water being beyond Malay comprehension, the only way of
accomplishing the transit in safety is by a summary command that two
brown boys should immediately jump overboard to lighten the rocking
craft. Nothing loth, they swim to shore in our wake, rolling over in
the sand to dry themselves like Newfoundland dogs, and with less
embarrassment on the score of clothing. A native Queen or Maharanee
rules Parigi from her bamboo palace in the deepest recesses of the
adjacent palm-forest, but she is invisible to her subjects, and dwells
in the seclusion of _purdah_, possibly a relic of Indian origin. Her
nominal authority proves insufficient to keep the peace between the
native population and the Dutch, for Parigi has been for months in a
state of insurrection and unrest. Only a year ago a raid was made on
the Eurasian merchant's office wherein I take shelter from the noonday
sun, and two white men were attacked by a band who rushed down from the
mountains and cut off their heads. The ringleader of the assassins is
now imprisoned for life in the gaol of Batavia, no capital punishment
being permitted in the Netherlands India. An immense cargo of _copra_
and rattan fills a fleet of boats and rafts. The great stacks of cane
cause no annoyance, but the sickening smell of _copra_ (the dried and
shredded cocoanut used for oil) pervades the ship, and an occasional
cockroach of crab-like dimensions clatters across the deck in his coat
of mail from a hiding place in the unsavoury cargo. The