
 
        
         
		goods brought, among which were a good many cocoa-nuts,  
 which  are a great luxury here.  It seems  strange that they  
 should  never  plant them;  but  the  reason  simply  is,  that  
 they  cannot  bring  their  hearts  to  bury  a  good  nut  for  
 the  prospective  advantage  of  a  crop  twelve  years  hence.  
 There  is  also  the  chance  of  the  fruits  being  dug  up and  
 eaten unless watched night  and  day.  Among the things  I  
 had  sent for was  a box of  arrack,  and I  was now of  course  
 besieged with  requests  for  a  little  drop.  I  gave  them  a  
 flask  (about  two  bottles),  which  was  very  soon  finished,  
 and I was  assured that there  were  many present who  had  
 not had  a taste.  As I  feared my box would very soon  be  
 emptied if I  supplied all their demands, I  told them I had  
 given  them  one,  but  the  second  they  must  pay  for,  and  
 that afterwards I  must have  a Paradise bird for each flask.  
 They  immediately  sent  round  to  all  the  neighbourins? O  £5 
 houses, and  mustered  up  a rupee  in Dutch copper money,  
 got their second flask, and drunk  it as quickly as the first,  
 and  were  then  very  talkative, but  less  noisy  and  importunate  
 than  I   had  expected.  Two  or  three  of  them  got  
 round  me  and  begged  me  for  the  twentieth  time  to  tell  
 them the  name  of my  country.  Then,  as  they  could  not  
 pronounce  it  satisfactorily,  they insisted  that  I  was  deceiving  
 them, and that it was a name of my own invention.  
 One funny old  man,  who  bore  a  ludicrous  resemblance to  
 a friend of mine  at  home,  was  almost  indignant.  “ Un«- 
 lung!”  said  he,  “ who  ever  heard of  such a name?—ang-  
 lan<y—anger-lang—that can’t be the name of your countiy;  
 you  are  playing with  us.”  Then  he  tried  to  give-a  convincing  
 illustration.  “ My  country  is  Wanumbai—anybody  
 can  say Wanumbai.  I ’m  an  ‘ orang-Wanumbai; ’  
 but, N-glung!  who  ever  heard  of  such a  name I  Do tell  
 us the real name of your  country,  and  then when you  are  
 gone  we  shall  know  how  to  talk  about  you.”  To  this  
 luminous  argument  and  remonstrance  I   could  oppose  
 nothing  but  assertion,  and  the  whole  party  remained  
 firmly  convinced  that  I   was  for  some  reason  or  other  
 deceiving them.  They then attacked me on another point  
 —what  all  the  animals  and  birds  and  insects  and  shells  
 were preserved  so carefully for.  They had often asked me  
 this  before,  and  I   had  tried to explain to them that  they  
 would  be  stuffed,  and  made  to  look  as  if  alive,  and  
 people in my country would go to look at them.  But this  
 was  not  satisfying;  in  my  country  there must  be many  
 better  things  to  look  at,  and  they  could  not  believe  I  
 would  take  so  much  trouble with  their  birds  and  beasts  
 just  for  people  to look at.  They did  not want  to look at  
 them ;  and we, who made calico and glass  and knives,  and  
 all sorts of wonderful  things, could  not want  things  from  
 Aru to look at.  They had  evidently been  thinking  about  
 it,  and  had  at  length  got what  seemed a very satisfactory  
 theory;  for  the  same  old  man  said  to me, in a low mys