We enter a gloomy palm-leaf hut, in which two or three
very dim lamps barely render darkness visible. The floor
is of black sandy earth, the roof hid in a smoky impenetrable
blackness | two or three benches stand against the
walls, and the orchestra consists of a fiddle, a fife, a. drum,
and a triangle. There is plenty of company, consisting of
young men and women, all very neatly dressed in white and
black—a true Portuguese habit. Quadrilles, waltzes, polkas,
and mazurkas are danced with great vigour and much
skill. The refreshments are muddy coffee and a few sweetmeats.
Dancing is kept up for hours, and all is conducted
with much decorum and propriety. A party of this kind
meets about once a week, the principal inhabitants taking
it by turns, and all who. please come in without much
ceremony.
It is astonishing how little these people have altered
in three hundred years, although in that time they
have changed their language and lost all knowledge of
their own nationality. They are still in manners and
appearance almost pure Portuguese, very similar to those
with whom I had become acquainted on the banks of the
Amazon. They live very poorly as regards their house
and furniture, but preserve a semi-European dress, and
have almost all full suits of black for Sundays. They are
nominally Protestants, but Sunday evening is their grand
day for music and dancing. The men are often good
hunters ; and two or three times a week, deer or wild pigs
are brought to the village, which, with fish and fowls,
enables them to live well. They are almost the only
people in the Archipelago who eat the great fruit-eating
bats called by us “ flying foxes.” These ugly creatures are
considered a great delicacy, and are much sought after.
At about the beginning of the year they come in large
flocks to eat fruit, and congregate during the day on some
small islands in the bay, hanging by thousands on the
trees, especially on dead ones. They can then be easily
caught or knocked down with sticks, and are brought
home by baskets-full. They require to be carefully prepared,
as the skin and fur has a rank and powerful foxy
odour; but they are generally cooked with abundance of
spices and condiments, and are really very good eating,
something like hare. The Orang Sirani are good cooks,
having a much greater variety of savoury dishes than the
Malays. Here, they live chiefly on sago as bread, with
a little rice occasionally, and abundance of vegetables and
fruit.
It is a curious fact that everywhere in the East where
the Portuguese have mixed with the native races they
have become darker in colour than either of the parent
stocks. This is the case almost always with these “ Orang
Sirani” in the Moluccas, and with the Portuguese of
Malacca. The reverse is the case in South America, where
VOL. II. E