第102章

At the same time， the country was divided into districts， and the system of "Controlleurs，" which had worked so well in Java， was introduced. The "Controlleur "was a European， or a native of European blood， who was the general superintendent of the cultivation of the district， the adviser of the chiefs， the protector of the people， and the means of communication between both and the European Government. His duties obliged him to visit every village in succession once a month， and to send in a report on their condition to the Resident. As disputes between adjacent villages were now settled by appeal to a superior authority， the old and inconvenient semi-fortified houses were disused， and under the direction of the "Controlleurs" most of the houses were rebuilt on a neat and uniform plan. It was this interesting district which I was now about to visit.

Having decided on my route， I started at 8 A.M. on the 22d of June. Mr. Tower drove me the first three miles in his chaise， and Mr. Neys accompanied me on horseback three miles further to the village of Lotta. Here we met the Controlleur of the district of Tondano， who was returning home from one of his monthly tours， and who had agreed to act as my guide and companion on the journey. From Lotta we had an almost continual ascent for six miles， which brought us on to the plateau of Tondano at an elevation of about 2，400 feet. We passed through three villages whose neatness and beauty quite astonished me. The main road， along which all the coffee is brought down from the interior in carts drawn by buffaloes， is always turned aside at the entrance of a village， so as to pass behind it， and thus allow the village street itself to be kept neat and clean. This is bordered by neat hedges often formed entirely of rose-trees， which are perpetually in blossom. There is a broad central path and a border of fine turf， which is kept well swept and neatly cut. The houses are all of wood， raised about six feet on substantial posts neatly painted blue， while the walls are whitewashed. They all have a verandah enclosed with a neat balustrade， and are generally surrounded by orange-trees and flowering shrubs. The surrounding scenery is verdant and picturesque. Coffee plantations of extreme luxuriance， noble palms and tree ferns， wooded hills and volcanic peaks， everywhere meet the eye. I had heard much of the beauty of this country， but the reality far surpassed my expectations.

About one o'clock we reached Tomohón， the chief place of a district， having a native chief now called the "Major，" at whose house we were to dine. Here was a fresh surprise for me. The house was large， airy and very substantially built of hard native timber， squared and put together in a most workmanlike manner. It was furnished in European style， with handsome chandelier lamps， and the chairs and tables all well made by native workmen. As soon as we entered， madeira and bitters were offered us. Then two handsome boys neatly dressed in white， and with smoothly brushed jet-black hair， handed us each a basin of water and a clean napkin on a salver. The dinner was excellent. Fowls cooked in various ways； wild pig roasted， stewed and fried； a fricassee of bats， potatoes， rice and other vegetables； all served on good china， with finger glasses and fine napkins， and abundance of good claret and beer， seemed to me rather curious at the table of a native chief on the mountains of Celebes. Our host was dressed in a suit of black with patent-leather shoes， and really looked comfortable and almost gentlemanly in them. He sat at the head of the table and did the honours well， though he did not talk much.

Our conversation was entirely in Malay， as that is the official language here， and in fact the mother-tongue and only language of the Controlleur， who is a native-born half-breed. The Major's father who was chief before him， wore， I was informed， a strip of bark as his sole costume， and lived in a rude but raised home on lofty poles， and abundantly decorated with human heads. Of course we were expected， and our dinner was prepared in the best style， but I was assured that the chiefs all take a pride in adopting European customs， and in being able to receive their visitors in a handsome manner.

After dinner and coffee， the Controlleur went on to Tondano， and I strolled about the village waiting for my baggage， which was coming in a bullock-cart， and did not arrive until after midnight.

Supper was very similar to dinner， and on retiring I found an elegant little room with a comfortable bed， gauze curtains with blue and red hangings， and every convenience. Next morning at sunrise the thermometer in the verandah stood at 69°， which I was told is about the usual lowest temperature at this place， 2，500feet above the sea. I had a good breakfast of coffee， eggs， and fresh bread and butter， which I took in the spacious verandah amid the odour of roses， jessamine， and other sweet-scented flowers， which filled the garden in front； and about eight o'clock left Tomohón with a dozen men carrying my baggage.

Our road lay over a mountain ridge about 4，000 feet above the sea， and then descended about 500 feet to the little village of Rurúkan， the highest in the district of Minahasa， and probably in all Celebes. Here I had determined to stay for some time to see whether this elevation would produce any change in the zoology.

The village had only been formed about ten years， and was quite as neat as those I had passed through， and much more picturesque.

It is placed on a small level spot， from which there is an abrupt wooded descent down to the beautiful lake of Tondano， with volcanic mountains beyond. On one side is a ravine， and beyond it a fine mountainous and wooded country.

Near the village are the coffee plantations. The trees are planted in rows， and are kept topped to about seven feet high.