monopoly of the Spice
Trade, the incalculable profits inducing Europeans to exchange fortunes
of gold and jewels with native magnates. The Dutch, when seizing the
islands, often compelled the local Sultans to destroy acres of
spice-bearing trees, in order to concentrate the focus of commerce. The
thriving industries of _copra_, rattan, and _damar_ (the gum used in
making varnish) were increased tenfold by the abolition of private
spice-trading, and by emancipation of the slaves in 1861, when the
Dutch Government placed the liberated population under police
surveillance, compelling each individual to prove honest acquirement of
the slender means necessary for subsistence. Contact with the world
begins to sharpen native intelligence, already heightened by the fusion
of European blood with the island race, and external cleanliness being
enforced systematically in Dutch territory, the concrete cottages which
alternate with the thatched dwellings are dazzlingly white, the
diligent sweeping and watering at fixed hours helping to energise the
indolent people of the Moluccas. The warm air, redolent of spices and
flowers, the riotous profusion of richest foliage, and the depth of
colour in sea and sky, imbue Ternate with the glow and glamour of
fairyland. Bright faces and gay songs manifest that physical _joie de
vivre_ of which Northern nations know so little. The grass screens
hanging before the open houses are drawn to keep off the burning sun,
but the twang of lutes (a relic of the Portuguese occupation), and the
sound of laughter echo from the dusky interiors. A forest of mangos,
mangosteens, bread-fruit, and cocoa-palms, extends between the town and
Fort Teloko, the first Portuguese stronghold, and now a rocky outpost
of Fort Orange, the headquarters of the Dutch troops. Beyond shadowy
nutmeg groves lies the Laguna, a volcanic lake between mountain and
sea. In the poetic Moluccas one draws closer to the warm heart of
Nature than in any other part of the vast Archipelago, for the great
Mother seems calling her children to rest, as she raises the veil from
her inmost shrine and discloses her altar of peace. The presence of the
smoking volcano which dominates the landscape, supplies that poignant
note which, like a minor chord, accentuates the sweetness of the
melody. "Gather ye roses while ye may," sounds Nature's admonition to
humanity amid the lavish loveliness of blossom and foliage, clothing
the mysterious height which h