have a cottage built for my own use. I soon found that this spot was too
much exposed to the wind and dust, which rendered it very difficult
to work with papers or insects. It was also dreadfully hot in the
afternoon, and after a few days I got a sharp attack of fever, which
determined me to move. I accordingly fixed on a place about a mile off,
at the foot of a forest-covered hill, where in a few days Mr. M. built
for me a nice little house, consisting of a good-sized enclosed verandah
or open room, and a small inner sleeping-room, with a little cookhouse
outside. As soon as it was finished I moved into it, and found the
change most agreeable.
The forest which surrounded me was open and free from underwood,
consisting of large trees, widely scattered with a great quantity of
palm-trees (Arenga saccharifera), from which palm wine and sugar
are made. There were also great numbers of a wild Jack-fruit tree
(Artocarpus), which bore abundance of large reticulated fruit, serving
as an excellent vegetable. The ground was as thickly covered with dry
leaves as it is in an English wood in November; the little rocky streams
were all dry, and scarcely a drop of water or even a damp place was
anywhere to be seen. About fifty yards below my house, at the foot of
the hill, was a deep hole in a watercourse where good water was to be
had, and where I went daily to bathe by having buckets of water taken
out and pouring it over my body.
My host Mr. M. enjoyed a thoroughly country life, depending almost
entirely on his gun and dogs to supply his table. Wild pigs of large
size were very plentiful and he generally got one or two a week, besides
deer occasionally, and abundance of jungle-fowl, hornbills, and great
fruit pigeons. His buffaloes supplied plenty of milk from which he made
his own butter; he grew his own rice and coffee, and had ducks, fowls,
and their eggs, in profusion. His palm-trees supplied him all the year
round with "sagueir," which takes the place of beer; and the sugar made
from them is an excellent sweetmeat. All the fine tropical vegetables
and fruits were abundant in their season, and his cigars were made from
tobacco of his own raising. He kindly sent me a bamboo of buffalo-milk
every morning; it was as thick as cream, and required diluting with
water to keep it fluid during the day. It mixes very well with tea and
coffee, although it has a slight peculiar flavour, which after a time
is not disagreeable. I also got as much sweet "sagueir" as I liked to
drink, and Mr. M. always sent me a piece of each pig he killed, which
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