THE ROAD OF BATAYIA. 27
As we passed one of the outer islands, its trees were
quite covered with kites, gulls, and other sea-birds
The next evening we came to the Batavia road,
a shallow bay where ships He at anchor partially
sheltered from the sea by the many islands scattered
about its entrance. The shores of this bay form a
low, muddy morass, but high mountams appear in the
distance. Through this morass a canal has been cut.
Its sides are weH walled in, and extend out some distance
toward the shipping, on account of the shallowness
of the water along the shore. A t the end
of one of these moles, or walls, stands a small white
light-house, indicating the way of approaching the
city, which cannot be fully seen from the anchorage.
When a ship arrives from a foreign port, no one
can leave her before she is boarded by an officer
from the guardship, a list of her passengers and
crew obtained, and it is ascertained that there K no
sickness on board. Having observed this regulation,
we rowed up the canal to the “ boom ” or tree, where
an officer of the customs looks into every boat that
passes. This word “ boom” came into use, as an
officer informed me, when it was the custom to let a
tree fall across the canal at night, in order to prevent
any boat from landing or going out to the shipping.
Here were crowds of Malay boatmen, engaged in
gambling, by pitching coins. This seemed also the
headquarters of poultry-venders, who were carrying
round living fowls, ducks, and geese, whose feet had
been tied together and fastened to a stick, so that
they had to hang with their heads downward the
very ideal of cruelty.