Swinhoe, Robert. “Narrative of a Visit to the Island of Formosa,” Journal of North China Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society 1 (1859): 145-164.
PDF File: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1wRZHPWLcSRgR1MRV0OEorE00NVtzOPSh/view?usp=sharing
[28 August 2021 updated]
(A List of Taiwan-related Works by Robert Swinhoe is available here.)
JOURNAL
OF
THE NOBTH-CHINA BRANCH
OF THE
ROYAL ASIATIC
SOCIETY.
No. II. May, 1859
ARTICLE I.
NARRATIVE OF A VISIT TO THE ISLAND OF FORMOSA;
By ROBERT SWIHHOE, ESQ., OF H. B. M. CONSULATE, AMOY.
Read before the Society, July 20th, 1858.
Having had the pleasure of accompanying H . M. Str. Infiexible
as interpreter, on her late expedition to Formosa in search for information
relative to the rumor of the detention there, by savages, of Messrs. Smith and
Nye, a few notes, extracted from my journal, will perhaps not fail to be of
interest to the members of this Society.
Leaving Amoy on the afternoon of the 7th June 1858, and passing
the Pescadores, we arrived next day off Kok-si-kon [國聖港] and anchored
about a mile from the shore. All we could see of the land was a sandy beach,
interspersed with patches of woodland, and a line of trees extending some
distance inland at the foot of an indistinct range of hills. On the 10th, the
wind blowing from the shore and the surf beating less heavily, we managed to
effect a landing in the gig close to some huts. The inhabitants—Chinese fishermen—came
out to meet us in a good-natured manner: we explained to them our object, and
distributed soma proclamations amongst them, offering $50 reward for every
shipwrecked European and $20 for every Asiatic. These poor people live in straw
huts, in front of which they hang their nets on rows of poles. A few
[p. 146]
pigs formed their only live stock. We learnt from them
that their families lived further inland, and that they visited this sand shoal
only at various seasons to prosecute their fishing.
These shoals are not large, and are surrounded on all
sides by shallow water. On most of them there were huts. The banks consisted of
a mixture of mud and sand, on which a vast number of Tiger-beetles (Cicindelæ)
were moving about. They ran very fast, and if pursued took immediately to their
wings. Their food seemed to consist of the flies and small Diptera found in the
neighborhood of the huts. A few of the Lesser Tern (Sterna minutæ) were seen
flying about us.
Getting into the boat and passing over a bar, with only
one foot of water, across which the Saracen was able to pass when on her
Surveying expedition, we ran the boat alongside another sandy island. The few
Chinese here were equally as civil as those on the other shoal; and the same
beetles abounded. Neither of the shoals had a sign of vegetation; indeed from
their appearance they must be under water a good part of the year. We saw only
one junk, and that was drawn up on the beach; all the other native craft were catamarans,
formed of large bent pieces of bamboo lashed together and fastened to other
pieces stretched crosswise on the top, with a mast and sail when required.
These catamarans are wet it is true, for the water flows constantly over the
feet of one standing on them, but they are well adapted for encountering the
surf.
The ship got under way at five o’clock and was soon
riding at anchor off Fort Zealandia.
June 11th — Early this morning the gig and the cutter
left on a visit to the mandarins of Tai-wan-foo, the capital of Formosa. We
were at first doubtful by which channel we could enter, whether by Fort
Zealandia or some way further north past a group of junks; but luckily we fell
in with a fishing catamaran, and taking one of the seminude fishermen into the
gig, he piloted us round the sand spit, over which the surf beat violently and
into the channel close to Fort Zealandia. This Fort, which 200 years ago, was
erected by the Dutch to beat off the Fuhkëen pirates, was now in ruins; a large
tree has grown out of the centre, and the west wall, some twelve or fifteen
feet in thickness built of bricks and chunam, was battered down and the
materials used for the erection of mandarin dwellings.
[p.
147]
About two miles distant from this Fort, the city of Tai-wan
was approached by a shallow canal, in many parts not more than forty yards
broad. The banks were high and intercepted our view, but the pretty green Goat’s
foot creeper, with its convolvulus-like purple flowers, gladdened our eyes, as
we glid along, and the merry carol of innumerable larks (Alanda minuta) in the
air beyond our ken showered melody upon us; verifying Tennyson’s beautiful idea
—
“The lark became a sightless song.”
When arrived at Paksekwei, in the suburbs of the city, we
were obliged to halt the boats, as there was little water beyond. We then sent
a despatch to the Taoutai, and one to the Chintai, by a messenger, and proposed
to meet them at 12 o’clock in the Yamun of the former. At that hour, after a
walk of three quarters of a mile, we arrived at the Taoutai’s Yamun, where we
were met by some of the underlings, who desired us to repair to the Prefect’s
office, as that was a more central place for all the officials to meet in.
After some consideration we acceded and one of the petty officials acted as our
guide. On reaching the place, before the Taoutai and other officers arrived, we
were requested to walk into the waiting hall; but we preferred standing at the gateway,
with the marines and blue-jackets stationed around us to keep off the crowd.
Presently we heard a cry of the Taoutai’s coming, and three Chinamen with
buttons came riding in without any order through the gate, the foremost bowing
as he passed to the marines who stood on the left. I thought of course that these
were the usual equestrian precursors of the great mandarin, and consequently
did not take much notice of them; but imagine my astonishment when I heard it
was the Taoutai himself on the foremost horse, a pretty spirited little animal.
A civil mandarin was actually riding on an unled pony!
Virgil would here have said, “haud mora;” not
so the Chinese. Some more delay took place, and we were at last admitted into the
reception hall, where we found assembled the Taoutai, the Hee-tai, the Chefoo,
and the Chehien. The Chintai, whose dwelling was some distance off, did not
arrive till a later hour.
The Taoutai, Kung Chaou-tsze [孔昭慈], declared
himself willing to assist us by issuing a proclamation to accompany our’s, to
be distributed throughout the towns and villages under his jurisdiction; and if
any shipwrecked foreigners were discovered they would most
[p. 148]
assuredly be sent across to Amoy. He said that he had
lately arrived from Foochow; no wreck had yet come to his knowledge. He had
heard of the aboriginal Sang fan, or raw savages, on the hills, but had never
seen them; they were a savage race, who fed on raw flesh, and never spared any
one that fell into their hands; it was almost impossible that Messrs. Smith and
Nye could be in thraldom under them, they would long ago have eaten them; if they
still existed in the sulphur mines near Kelung it was impossible to ransom
them, as the savages know not the value of money; the Chinese had no dealings
with the savages, excepting those who were domesticated, and who traded with
the settlers; a thousand dollars was a large sum to offer for a man; there was
no necessity for a reward at all on our part; if there were any foreigners cast
away, the Chinese would ransom them and send them across the channel to Amoy.
If any one, who had been shipwrecked, should be brought to Amoy we might reward
his deliverer, but there was no necessity for it; they would attend to that
themselves.
The Chintai soon arrived, a large, good-humored,
full-faced man, with a few straggling hairs for a moustache. His name was Shaou
Lien-kaou [邵連科], a native of Foochow. He cruised about occasionally on
the coast, and had been to Kelung and Tamsuy; there were, he said, no pirates
on the coast now; he had seen a few, but they always ran away when he
approached; there was very little coal in Kelung, and that difficult to be
obtained.
On our asking these officers to permit the people to sell
us provisions, they said they would make us a present of some. Chairs were now
sent for, and, taking leave of the Taiwan mandarins, we returned to our boats.
The tide had gone down considerably and we found it impossible to get the boats
afloat, so we landed and strolled about. Inside of the banks there was nothing
but muddy sand intersected with streams. A species of crab, with one large
white claw, dotted the mud like flowers. They were very quick, and off in an
instant into their holes. Birds were scarce; a Caspian and a Lesser Tern
(Sternae caspiae and minutae) and a few Kentish Plovers (Charadrius Cantianus)
were all that I saw. Provisions were absurdly dear, but the mandarins kept their
word and sent us off a fair supply. We had some difficulty in getting out of
the river, as the tide did not rise till late in the day.
[p. 149]
June 12th — We were off Takow, commonly called Ape’s
Hill, from the large-sized Monkeys that abound on it. The passage into
the harbor is very narrow; and as the tide was running out, there was a heavy
swell at the mouth. The harbor, though small, is commodious for a few vessels
of moderate draught; and, as it is nearly land-locked, affords very safe
anchorage. A receiving-ship lay inside of the harbor, with a fine godown on
shore belonging to the same parties; but trade, we were informed, was slack;
there was some sugar, but it commanded high prices; and rice too, just then,
was to be bought at cheaper rates in China than there.
The natives were drying a vast number of small white
fish, spread out on the sand in the sun, which when dried are taken away in
large bags by the junks. Several junks lay in front of the chief village, in
the harbor Kee-aou. We walked through this place, and found many of the
houses, built under large Banyan trees, surrounded by a thick hedge of the
Prickly Pandanus or other impenetrable shrubs, and approachable by narrow
zigzag lanes. Here under the shade of these fine spreading trees the female members
of the family would be sitting at work, while the men were in the fields. But
the neighborhood of Takow, visited as it constantly is by foreigners, is too
well known to require further remark.
June 14th — We weighed anchor at five o’clock, and after
two hours dropped again off Fang-leaou [枋寮], (in the chart marked Pang-le,) a village twenty-five
miles south of Takow. We now tried to get ashore in the gig and cutter but
found the surf so great that the boats were obliged to anchor, and we had to
land in catamarans with the water washing up to our knees. This village is at
war with the one we were going to visit, Laileaou [內寮], where Bancheang [林萬掌] the outlaw
chief lived. But we were not molested while led over some lovely country; the
rice fields however were lying waste on account of the disturbances. We passed
through one village, Chuyleaou, built in the midst of lofty bamboos, where we
found fine broad lanes marked with cart ruts. The scenery was a good deal like
that in Ceylon.
After walking a few miles we arrived at Laileaou,
situated at the bottom of the first range of hills and surrounded by a hedge, backed
by tall graceful bamboo trees, with a fosse partly encircling it on the side of
the hills. There were two entrances, one of which was closed. Bancheang’s
house, with an upper story, occupied
[p. 150]
the east side; and all about within the enclosure were
ranged the houses of his dependants; over his door were written the words Wan
Ke, and spears and other arms were lying about in his courtyard. “"The
Hero in his house we found,” not as we expected to meet him, a dashing Robin
Hood, but a thin stooping elderly man, with bad teeth.
In asking us to enter his house he displayed none of the
politeness and affability common to the Chinese. He was wedded to a savage
woman; perhaps he had taken lessons from her. We told him the object of our
present visit, and questioned him about a foreign Ring and Telescope, said to
have been once in his possession, and to have been presented by him to some
mandarin. He denied all knowledge of the affair, and assured us that he had never
heard of any wreck on his part of the coast, since the loss of the Larpent in
1851, near Langkeaou. He made the captain a present of a bow and some arrows,
used by the savages, with whom his people traded, as also some cloth
manufactured by their women from the bark of a tree, with which he was not
acquainted.
We then took our leave; and, returning to Pangle, had a
look at the village as we passed through the streets and called upon one of the
officials stationed there. The Chinese officers have had a great dread of Bancheang,
ever since their last expedition against him. They sent an army of a thousand
men to invade his territory; and when within shot-range, Bancheang himself
loaded a gun and discharged it at the invaders, knocking over eighteen men at one
discharge. The Imperialists were bewildered and immediately made good their
retreat!
Among the bamboo woods, Orioles (Oriolus Sinensis) were
very abundant, and Black Drongos (Dierurus Malabaricus) were swinging to and
fro in their nests, suspended from the bending bamboo boughs. The Tiger
Swallows, winter visitants in Amoy, were building their nests under the
overhanging roofs of the shop-sheds, some of them within arm’s reach. These
nests were built of clay in an oval form and lined with feathers, resembling-
much the nest of the English martin, (Hirundo urbica,) and contained three or four
pinkish white eggs.
We now repaired to our ship and got nicely drenched in
working off the catamarans against the surf.
On the 15th we were at anchor in Langkeaou bay, where the
surf presented difficulties as at Pangle against our effecting a
[p. 151]
landing, but we managed to get on shore not far from the
village on the south side of the bay. The natives, more or less, are half-breeds,
and many of the women are pure aborigines. They were mostly fishermen, though
they had a few cattle grazing on the neighboring bills. They could give us no
information, except what we knew before about the crew of the Larpent.
Past Langkeaou, further south, the hills extend right to
the sea, and the savage roams over them at large. It was here the crew of the
unfortunate Larpent were cruelly murdered by the natives, with, the
exception of the three men, who escaped into the hands of the Chinese and were
by them treated with kindness, till they were enabled to get a passage to Amoy.
June 16th—Bad weather now coming on, we were obliged to pass
the south cape at some little distance, and steering north and passing in sight
of the islands of Botel Tobago and Sama Sana, we then stood in and coasted
along past Black Rock Bay. The hills, some of which were of a good height, were
covered with vegetation, and, one peak, which we caught a glimpse of through the
clouds that encircled it, had a flat top like a crater. There was no appearance
of natives, except some lights that were visible at night on the hills.
On the 17th of June we were off a place in lat. 24°6’18”
[立霧溪口], where a river is marked on the chart. A ravine runs
between the hills, but there is only a small mountain stream. The ship was
about eight hundred yards from land, yet we got no sounding at one hundred and
fifteen fathoms. The morning was fine, with very little sea, so we pulled away
for the shore in the gig, steering towards a collection of huts at the foot of
the hills. As we approached the land, the deep blue waters of the Pacific were
divided from the coast-waters by a distinct line, so that one part of the boat
was in the colourless, the other in the deep cyanean blue waters! When only one
hundred and fifty yards from the shore, we sounded with eleven fathoms of boat
line, and got no bottom; when at about fifty yards, we had eight and a barf
fathoms. Several natives appeared on the beach, many of whom were Chinese; but
among them we could distinguish six men who were almost in a state of nudity,
wearing only a piece of cloth round the waist with a flap in front.
These latter were armed with spears and sabres in a
sheath, stuck through the girdle and hanging behind. Their hair was
[p. 152]
short and fringed on the forhead [forehead], behind it
hung loose. They had a good deal of the Malayan cast of countenance, but were much
fairer than Malays and slightly fairer than the Chinese, who were with them.
Their arrows singularly enough have no feathered shaft. The surf was too great
for the gig to go in close to the shore, so we called the Chinese, who were
pushing a boat into the water, to come out to us. They were just going to shove
off when four of these savages jumped into their boat, and the Chinese, finding
they could not hold them back, beckoned us to go away. The savages meanwhile,
enraged that they could not get out at us, began to shake their spears and
brandish their sabres with threatening gestures; but a shot, fired over their
heads, soon put them to flight and they took shelter behind a mound. The Chinese
then came off to us; and taking one of them into our boat, we asked him various
questions.
These savages, according to his account, were called
Tai-lo-kok and their tribe numbered about four thousand; they inhabited the surrounding
woody hills and subsisted on sweet potatoes, taro and deer’s flesh; the bare
patches of land, we saw on the hills, were cleared away by them for
cultivation. The greater part of the hills was thickly covered with Camphor
trees; and the boat they were in was made of Camphor wood. He said there were
about two hundred Chinese in the village, who subsisted on the produce of their
fishing; they had been sent there, many years ago, by the mandarins (and were
probably convicts); if we were to kill any of the savages they would avenge
themselves on the Chinese, for the savages had arms, the Chinese had none. A
village that used to exist a little further up the coast, where we could see a
wreath of blue smoke rising, had been burnt by the savages and every one
killed. One man, who had lived here fifteen years, had never seen or heard of
any wreck. Foreign ships had before been seen passing by that place, but none
had ever come so near to the land as ours.
We now gave these Chinese, who had come off to us, some proclamations,
offering rewards for shipwrecked people, and asked them to bring off one of the
savages, that we might, through an interpreter, get some information. They
returned on shore and explained the matter to the six savages who were squatted
apart by themselves, but they would not venture off. Fearing that, if we
remained any longer so near them, these wretches might make
[p. 153]
our visit a pretext for wreaking their vengeance on the
Chinese, we returned to our ship without molesting them further. It seems very
strange that so savage a race of men should have existed for so many years
close to the abodes of civilization; but their wooded hills form their best
protection. The Chinese mandarins doubtless have done all in their power to
exterminate them, but without success. With a view to their destruction, tigers
even were brought over from China and let loose among them on the the hills
many years ago, but the savages were found to be too skilful hunters to allow
themselves quietly to be eaten!
Getting under way, we passed some lovely mountains of an immense
height, covered to the top with wood. At times their summits only were visible;
then gradually they would stand out in bold relief, as the clouds cleared away.
A valley was now seen running from the beach right through between the hills;
but no river or stream was visible.
As we neared Soo-au bay, we fell in with several small
boats, pulling out from shore. Calling to one of these, we took a man on board,
and the boat in tow. The people in the boats were Chinese and half-castes, who
gained their living by fishing and were then out seeking for flying-fish. With
a few directions from this man, we cast anchor outside the bay in thirteen
fathoms.
At five o’clock A.M., on the 18th, we entered in boats
the harbor of Soo-au (or Saw-o, as it is called by the natives). We
found deep water close in shore with good protection for ships, though a little
exposed to the south-east gales. Fine green hills rose on both sides of us,
many of them covered with verdure to the tops; and the central village, for
which we made, was situated some little way inland on the side of a stream,
which in its meanderings flowed between the hills into the sea. The houses of
the Chinese inhabitants were built of round stones and mud, thatched with straw.
These people told us that the savages dwelt on the hills to the left amongst
the thicket, and they took us to see one of them who had recently come down to
their village; but unfortunately we were too late, for he had returned.
The Chinese here trade with these savages in various
articles, such as cloth and skins, and many of them had on cloth of aboriginal manufacture.
In exchange they barter cloth, imported from China in junks. To defend
themselves from the savages they keep in pay a kind of sharp-shooting militia
who patrol the
[p. 154]
hills. These men, many of whom came to see us, were armed
with very fine matchlocks, kept in splendid order, and with knives’ worn in
their girdles. One man had a gun-shot wound in his leg, which he received from
a savage while on protecting duty. They showed us some deer-shins and skins of
the Muntjak (Cervulus Reevesu), as also the hide of a Felis; all these were for
sale; but the people evidently did not attach the same value to the Mexican dollar
as we did, if one might judge from the prices which they asked for their
several articles.
The only specimens I procured of ornithological interest
were a Pomatorhinus and a Black Tern.
Leaving the central village, we proceeded across the
harbor to a little bay on the left, and finding a village there we ran the boat
in to the shore. A great many men and women came down to meet us, and we were
delighted to find that they were what the Chinese call Siek hwan, or
domesticated savages.
Some of the men had loose hair, but not a few of the younger
among them had their heads shaved in the Chinese fashion. They were a shade or
so darker than the Chinese, with a Malayan cast of countenance. Of the women
some were brown, others nearly fair; while many, with European physiognomies,
exhibited nothing of the slanting eye. A few wore coats or something thrown
over the shoulders; but the majority had no other covering than a wrapper round
the loins, secured with a cloth girdle. Their hair hung loose, with a white or
red fillet laid just above the forehead. Most of these people smoked pipes; or
rolls of tobacco shaped like cigars.
One of the men spoke a little Chinese and we got him to interpret
to the others. When we inquired about their origin, they said they only knew
that they had come from the hills. They could not even tell us their own ages,
having apparently no means of noting them: They would not be called Chin hwan,
or “raw foreigners;” they were simply Hwan-ah, or “foreigners,” the
same as we were. They seemed to be as much afraid of the true savages, Sang
fan, as were the Chinese themselves.
Their language abounds a good deal in the “R” sound,
and I will here mention a few of the commonest words which I noted down at the
time.
Man, Lárrat. Son, Wán-nak.
Woman, Tarroógan. Daughter, Keé-ah.
[p. 155]
Boat, Boorrúar. Dog, Wássoo.
Fire, La mán. To Fight, Pah boól.
Water, Lalóm. No, Mai.
To smoke, Khan Tammacko. Head, Oórr’oo.
These people, both in the construction of their houses
and in their mode of living, resemble the Chinese much more than they do the
blood-thirsty race we had seen a few days previously. A quieter and more
inoffensive class of people could hardly be found anywhere. They had never
before seen a foreign steamer, and in the afternoon came off in crowds and
spent the remainder of the day in going round and round the ship, chanting a
most peculiar air.
The Chinese call this village Lamhongo; and a village on
the opposite side inhabited by Chinese, which we also visited, they call Pakhongo.
We ascended one of the neighboring hills, and from the
summit got a fine extended view. On the right side of the hills stretched a
fine cultivated plain, with a river diverging close to its embouchure and
trending different directions; behind us was the sea in its placid calmness,
its angry surf beating and breaking into white spray against the dark rocks
beneath; on the left was the harbor of Soo-au. Large flocks of the Black-capped
Tern were grouped on the rocks outside; and a monkey sat squeaking and
chattering to himself a few hundred yards down the hill. At the entrance to the
bay there is a surf-beaten tunnel, which extends quite through the rocks,
opening out on both sides north and south; the one on the latter is larger
than, the other, and high enough to admit a man standing erect.
While at this place we got hold of a toothless old woman,
one of the most senile of the whole group of Chinese around us, and explained
to her the object of our mission, inquiring if she had ever heard of any ships
being wrecked on that coast. She replied that, some years ago, a Lewchooan
vessel had been broken to pieces there, and that all hands had been murdered by
the savages.
On the 19th, at daylight, we steamed away from Soo-au,
and rounding the point soon found ourselves off the richly cultivated plain we
got so good a view of from the hill-top the preceding day. The ship was
anchored off the mouth of the river, and the gig and cutter were ordered to be
ready for starting in half an hour. We picked up a fisherman, from a Chinese
boat, who pointed out the
[p. 156]
channel; but he recommended us not to try it, the surf
was raging in so heavily over the bar. We hesitated; to enter was to run
a great risk in coming out again; to return to the ship was to relinquish our
purpose and lose a fine view of the country. The cutter was ordered back, while
we hung on our oars, watching a small junk crossing the bar. Soon the order was
heard, “Give way, boys,” and in we flew. Once fairly in, and the boat went quietly
along in smooth water, following the course of the river for about eight miles.
It took numerous turns and bends through a well-cultivated plain, and seldom
sounded less than one fathom water.
The first village we landed at was situated on the left
bank, and about four miles from its mouth. It was occupied by the Siekhwan, or
domesticated savages, and named Polo Sinnawan. These people were exceedingly
civil and good-natured, far more so than the Chinese, and showed us about their
tree-ensconced residences. Their houses are built off the ground on posts and have
boarded floors. They are governed by a head-man of their own race in concert
with a Chinese, who dwells in the village. The women here appeared to be in far
better circumstances than those at Soo-au; their heads were neatly dressed with
three or four folds of red ribbon ran through the hair, the whole surmounted by
a woven garland of green creeping plants. Their ears were bored with several
holes and five or six thin white metal rings, two inches or so in diameter,
were thrust through each hole. These rather loaded the ears, but the effect was
very far from unbecoming.
About two miles further up we landed at another village,
inhabited by Chinese. This was the chief village on the river; its name is
Ke-ta-kan or Le-teek-kan, and was said to contain one thousand inhabitants. It
had one good broad street and a moderate display of provisions, but at very
high prices. We were shown the skins of the Deer, Muntjak and Felis. The
natives said we must be Dutchmen, for they had heard of no other red-haired foreigners.
The surrounding country was cultivated with rice and millet. Rice appears to be
their chief article of export. Junks carry it to Kelung and return with cargoes
of salt. They were desirous to know what goods we had brought, and
showed every anxiety to trade. After proceeding some little distance past the village,
we returned and with a strong tide soon reached the
[p. 157]
surf-beaten bar. We landed on a sand-shoal to get a few
bearings; it was peopled by a semi-nude pack of Chinese fishermen, who were
amazed to see a watch, and asked if it was not a foreign compass. We had some
little difficulty in facing the surf, and more than half filled our boat in
coming out.
On the 20th of June we passed Kelung Island and anchored
in the harbor of Kelung about ten o’clock, A. M. In the afternoon we went to
inspect the Coal-mines. It is a long pull round to the bay where they are
situated, in a westerly direction from the harbor.
These mines are worked by Chinese, who live at their
entrance in huts built of straw and wood. There are eleven or twelve excavations,
their mouths opening out, at different heights, on the side of a hill facing
the sea. I went to the end of one, guided by a man bearing a lighted piece of
twisted paper. The excavation, which ran in a horizontal direction, varied from
about four and half to three feet in height and three to ten or more in breadth.
The strata of coal run along on both sides in parallel lines from one to three
feet in thickness. The roof above, and the floor underfoot, were composed of
sandstone. Water was constantly dropping from the roof, and this mixing with
the sand formed a slimy mud. The hole ran in pretty nearly in a straight line
for two hundred and forty paces; at the end it took a sudden turn to the right.
Small wicks in saucers of oil lighted the way along, and we found five or six
men at work in a state of nudity with pick-axes, blunt at one end and sharp at
the other.
The coal which they obtained was very small and
bituminous, and burns fast but with a great heat and flame. It is very certain that
they get the best there is in that locality. They asked twenty cents a pecul
for it, and declared that five men, at work in a mine for twenty-four hours,
did not procure mere than thirty peculs. They bring out the coal as fast as it
is dug in oblong baskets, containing a pecul each, placed on boards of the same
shape, and so dragged out through the watery mud. We bought ninety-six tons of
this coal for the steamer and it was all put on board in two days.
At eight o’clock on the morning of the 22d we started on
our expedition to the Sulphur mines, some forty miles from Kelung, where Mr.
Nye was declared to be actually in thraldom. Our party consisted of five
persons, besides two marines and several Chinese coolies. After passing through
the town of Kelung, we struck
[p. 158]
out in a north-west direction, along a good road, till we
got to the first station-shanty, five miles from Kelung, in a village called Tye-hoo-lun.
Two and a half miles further on we halted a second time at another station,
where the party took an hour and a quarter’s rest, while the botanist and
myself went about collecting specimens of natural history. It was indeed a
pretty country, the level parts were well covered with nodding rice, and the
hills all fresh and green. But strange enough, few birds were to be seen; I
noted none but the Black Drongo, the Red Bittern, and the small Hoo-hoo (Centropus).
We met a man carrying, amongst other things, the hide of a civet, a species I
had never seen before, which he called Peih-ba. He said he had procured it
from the hills.
At ten minutes to three o’clock we reached the village of Masoo, close to the sea, from
which we could see Kelung Island quite distinctly. Imagine our chagrin when we
found that we had been walking all day to accomplish that which we could easily
have done, by boat, in a few hours. We halted for a few minutes under a fine
banyan tree opposite the village; then, crossing over a shallow pebbly river of
fresh water, we selected a little woody spot, on the hill above the houses,
where we rested until the cool of the evening; and starting again at ten
minutes after six, and advancing along the beach for some distance, we
struck into the country in a south-west direction up a high hill. We journeyed
on, and as soon as the sun had sunk, and “fast faded the glimmering landscape
from the sight,” we heard the Bamboo Partridge chuckling from a
neighboring hill Ke-puh-kwai, while an owl gave utterance to his notes of
lamentation. Large bats begun now to fly about, and the moon was our only lamp.
It was not until nearly nine that we reached Kim-paou-le
[金包里], where we intended to pass the night. In front of the
Choo-haw-keong temple we halted and desired to speak with the head-man. We were
admitted into the temple and soon after received a visit from the Tsong-le, or
Corporal, in charge of the village, who brought in some eggs and congee by way
of present to us. He said he had never heard of any wrecks on the coast, or of
white men being confined in the Sulphur mines. He had himself never seen, white
men before, and would be happy to give publicity to the proclamations we handed
to him.
[p. 159]
His visit over, we stretched our bedding on the floor,
and disposed ourselves for a quiet night’s rest after the labors of the day. We
soon found ourselves “hushed with buzzing night flies,” but not “to slumber:”
mosquitoes innumerable tormented us all night, forcing on our feverish minds
the soliloquy of Bolingbroke, “O sleep, O gentle sleep! nature’s soft nurse,
how have I frighted thee, that thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down, and steep
my senses in forgetfulness?”
The next morning we rose at five o’clock, and as soon as
the coolies had taken some food started again. The day was overcast and we were
in good walking trim, so we trudged on through some most lovely mountain
scenery interspersed with wood, halting once for breakfast on the side of a
hill. Then onwards we moved along a broad well-made road, through valley and
glen, till a turn of the hill displayed the smoky steam of the sulphur and the
barren chasm from which it was emitted.
The country here was very beautiful; we were traversing a
path, along one side of a hill, which led to a large gushing mountain stream of
the most deliciously cool water; on looking up the stream, you might behold a
lovely glen with trees overhanging the raging water speeding on its course, and
a deep valley below; while on the other side hills rose very high, and in one
of them was seen the verdureless chasm with its perpetual puffing of grey vapor.
Crossing a waterfall we put up at a shanty, and prepared to walk to the Sulphur
mines. After tumbling and scrambling along a rough path, we managed to reach
the mines. No individual was near them; a small straw hut on the hill showed
signs of late habitation, but it was now tenantless.—We subsequently learnt
that the mandarins from Foochow had sent soldiers to put a stop to the working
of the mines, and that at present they were only occasionally and furtively
worked.
The sulphur was produced in a chasm, appearing as if the
green hills, covered with coarse grass, had been riven in sunder, thus forming
a deep valley of limestone tinted with yellow and red; in some parts of this
chasm the hot steam was gushing out in jets, with tremendous noise and force,
like the steam from the escape-pipe of a high pressure engine; in other spots
small pools of pure sulphur were bubbling, and merely wanted the ladling out
and cooling to form the sulphur of commerce. At the bottom of the barren ravine
rippled a foul rivulet, carrying off the sul-
[p. 160]
phureous oozings from the ground. Standing on the top of
a hill, I looked down upon the scene: one sulphur pool was not more than
fifteen feet below me, and its stench was intolerable; the earth under foot
crumbled and groaned, as if it were going to give way; pieces of limestone,
covered with the crystals of sulphur, lay strewn about; while beetles and
butterflies, unhappy victims to the noisome exhalations, were scattered
wingless and legless over the ground.
Leaving this wild scenery we returned to the halting
house, and after a short rest started to return on another route by which the guide
said he would lead us. Our course first lay up a very high hill , and then some
little distance across a grassy table country; near to its termination, the
Tamsuy river diverging into two branches, one to Mangka and the other trending
towards Kelung, came in sight off in the distant valley below. We hastened down
the declivity, passing hills of moderate height, covered with low herbage and
cultivated in patches with sweet potatoes and a plant of the Creanthasea
species used for a dye.
Here the party halted for a few minutes, at a wooden
plank bridge that spanned a mountain stream, till the botanist and I, who by
our strayings from the line of march had dropped a good way behind, came up. I
had here the gratification of procuring a specimen of the Dipper (Cinclus), a
species I have never seen before, but which will most probably prove to
be a Himmalayan species. Falling behind once more, we hastened after the party over
a fine road, across some pasture downs, and soon found them resting again at a
small half-way house, and then in company we resumed our march. It was now a
constant succession of descents, and the face of the country began to lose its
wild appearance, and to assume a more cultivated one; and, until we arrived at
the last descent, pastures with browsing cattle and plantations of fir-trees were
seen here and there. The hill, which we descended by a range of rough steps
winding down its face, with thick wood on our right and left, was very steep,
and brought us down to the plain, — a wide extent of waving fields of paddy and
millet, intersected by numerous streams and paths with farms interspersed.
We followed our guide to a large village, called
Patsienah [八芝蘭], where we arrived at half past nine o’clock in the
evening. Outside the walls of the village we halted, and held a consultation as
to the probability of our procuring a boat to carry us to the neighborhood
[p. 161]
of Kelung. We then moved to the boat-house and hiring one
boat for ourselves and another for our coolies, we removed our traps and
ourselves into them. The boats were large and commodious; and far more
comfortable was it to pass a night in them than in the musquito-haunted halls
of a temple. We had walked over thirty miles in the course of the day, and therefore
slept, very soundly, notwithstand the motion of the boat.
About five o’clock, June 24th, we found ourselves at Chuy-t‘ng-k‘a
[水返腳], or tide’s foot village, above which the influence of
the tide is not felt. Not feeling very fresh we hired two smaller boats to
carry us up the rapids as far as it was practicable. We were obliged to divide
our party, as the boats were so small. The botanist and I managed to get
together; and the coolies were made to walk. At first the sailing along the
rippleless stream, aided by the sculls and the poling and pushing through the
rapids, was very pleasant; but like all the good things of life when continued
too long, it at last became burdensome; so we were glad to have a halt at a
small village called Chittaw [七堵].
There we saw a few of the Plover (Charadrius pusilla)
running among the stones, and also an occasional Dove feeding near the banks.
Drongos were gambolling about, and a pair of Red Bitterns with their fowl-like “cack-cack”
flew about impatiently. These all assisted to enliven the monotony of the
journey, but “tired nature’s sweet restorer” soon lulled me in her arms; and on
rousing again I found the hills, growing more precipitous and rocky as we neared
the deep basin that terminated our trip. There our boats made their final halt
among twenty-two others already assembled, for the river above that place is
merely a mountain stream. The small village where we halted is called
Kang-ah-lai. As our coolies were all ready and waiting, we were soon again on
the march. Crossing over the stream on a wooden bridge, we slowly trudged up
the hill, refreshened by a cooling shower, until we arrived at Kelung, some two
miles distant. About half past three in the afternoon, we got on board our
steamer, having travelled more than eighty miles, over an unexplored country,
in fifty-five and a half hours.
The next day we paid a visit to Flat Island with a party
in search for holystone, and passed by the Fort erected many years ago by the
Spanish. The greater part of the island is composed of sand-stone, broken up
into squares, with a touch apparently of
[p. 162]
oxide of iron; over this the water washes at high-tide.
The central part has a coarse vegetation and the sea boundaries are formed of white
coral. Several Terns were sitting upon the small rocks, that there abound, and
a few Plover were running about on the flats. Several Chinese fishermen were
catching the lovely blue and red coral-fish with hook and line. As one looked
down into the clear water beneath the boat, he might see these brightly colored
denizens of the coral darting among its white branches.
Of the fish caught in these waters, one of the most
beautiful in color, though most uncouth and inelegant in form, is the Parrot fish
or Ying-ko-he. A couple of them were brought alongside, one of which I
purchased. It was about two feet long, colored with bright red and blue, and
having a great blue nasal knob. We found its flesh very delicious, and the
knob, when cooked, resembled the fine green blubber-fat of the turtle.
As the daylight gradually faded, a single light might be
seen suddenly to sparkle from a fishing boat in the harbor, then another and
another; and, “ere the eastern orb had sunk to rest,” the whole water seemed
studded with bright lights, which as the night grew darker and darker flashed
about like meteors in all directions. The fishermen start in the dusk of the
evening, and by pulling about quickly with a bundle of flaming bamboo rods in
the stem of their boats, they endeavor to frighten the fish into their nets.
On the 26th we left Kelung harbor, and anchored in the
afternoon off the village Haw-be [滬尾], at the mouth of the Tamsuy river. A visit was paid to
the village, but as the officer in charge was away at Mangka [艋舺], some proclamations
were left with the people and we were soon again under steam.
In the afternoon of the 27th, about a mile off from land,
we had a very distinct view of the fine green plain, varied with undulating
pastures and stripes of clayey soil and of the distant mountains enveloped in
clouds. We started in the gig and attempted to land, but the surf as usual
being too great we anchored the boat and invited some of the natives, who were crowding
on the beach, to come out to us. They readily did so, and taking one of them
into our boat, the following was the result of our investigations.
• The name of their village (situated lat. 24°19’45”) was
Lampaw,*
* Lampaw is two hundred and fifly le from
Tamsuy,—the people here, as in China, recokning [reckoning] about three le to
one mile; at Kelung, however, they made it equal to half a mile
[p. 163]
and they Chinchew men; the town we could see fifteen le
further south was called Gaw-c‘hay-kang; it was in another district; but their
village was in the Teek-cham district, under the control of a Tsien-tsung. He
said he had no knowledge of Kok-si-kon; he had heard that a foreign vessel had
been wrecked some distance up the coast, about seventeen years ago, but he was
a little boy then; and at the present time, he added, no savages are to be met with
in all this neighborhood.
We gave this man some proclamations, which he tied in a
cloth round his head, and, jumping naked into the water, soon rejoined his
comrades.
On the 29th we paid a final visit to the Taiwan
mandarins, to inquire whether they had issued our proclamations and what might be
the result. The Taoutai told us that he had sent to all places under his
jurisdiction, and that no answers had yet been received; that, soon after our
departure, a despatch had been received from the Amoy Taoutai, informing him of
our intended visit in search for foreign captives; and that a few days previously
a two masted vessel had struck on a sand-spit near Kok-si-kon and had sunk, while
all hands on board, consisting of eleven black persons and one white man, had
reached the shore, having some money with them, and had hired a lorcha which
was lying there to take them to Amoy. He did not know, however, whether the
lorcha had yet sailed or not. He was not acquainted with the nationality of the
vessel, but was quite sure that she was not English, and he supposed that we
were only on the look out for our own countrymen. We told these officials that
all nations ought to assist shipwrecked men, and that we would be most happy to
give them a passage to Amoy. The Chintai, who was one of the party present,
informed us that the vessel had a cargo of Opium, some portion of which had
been saved, but, said he, with a sly look, it is not proper to speak about
that.—Subsequently we learnt that the two masted wreck was a small Hamburgh
vessel bound to Takow with a cargo of Opium.
After some further desultory conversation, we took our
leave, and on reaching our steamer were told that a lorcha, with some black men
on board, had passed that afternoon in the direction of Takow. We hastened to
that place and from that back again to Kok-si-kon,—and next morning ascertained
that the lorcha all safely had taken her departure.
[p. 164]
The Inflexible’s head was now turned towards Amoy,
and touching at the Pescadores—we anchored in a harbor about three-quarters of
mile from the town of Makung. We called on the magistrate who has control there
and is subject to the authorities in Formosa. With all due ceremony he received
us into his hall, which though a dirty dark room had the steps and painted
folding-doors peculiar to a Yamun. It was a much more respectable habitation
than we expected to find in so small a peace as Makung. He said he had been
there for the last five years, but was formerly in Formosa. He told us that the
only wreck he had heard of occurred at sea in 1852, when the vessel went down, twenty
of the crew escaping in two boats to the Pescadores, whence they were sent to
Amoy in a Chinese junk. He could tell us nothing further about it, as he was
not in office at the time. The produce of the islands, consisting of
ground-nuts, rice, millet, &c., he said, was not sufficient for home
consumption, and a good deal of food had to be imported from Formosa; and in
winter the wind blew so hard, he said, that it ravaged all the fields that were
under cultivation. Their inhabitants be estimated at about 180,000.
The poor man’s story ended, we then took leave of him. He
seemed very nervons and much excited, so as at times while speaking with us to
be quite at a loss for words. On our departure he saluted us with guns, and a
tune played on the Chinese bagpipes. Embarking now once more, we steamed out of
the harbor, and on the 1st of July arrived safely back at Amoy.
In conclusion, I may here state that, from the civilities we received from the Chinese wherever we met them in Formosa, the impression was left on our minds that if any shipwrecked foreigners had fallen into their hands they would have met with every kindness, and been forwarded to some Consular port by the first opportunity; but from what little we saw of the savage aborigines, the opinion was forced upon us that no unfortunate castaway among them would survive many hours. Such is their natural thirst for blood, we were told, that before aspiring to the hand of a lady, the gallant savage must produce the head of some enemy slain by him in combat.
註:劉克襄的《台灣鳥類研究開拓史(1840-1912)》(台北:聯經,1989)有本文摘譯,但此處註釋並未比對劉克襄的翻譯,僅註出少部分地名。
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