Wallace and the Dutch East 43 



was when we anchored way offshore at Supu Bay. I had 

 been told that we should catch the mischief there, but 

 slept on deck as usual and mighty nearly got rolled over- 

 board before I woke to what was going on. Actually I al- 

 most rolled" into our meat supply. Since we had no refrig- 

 eration, this came on board on the hoof in Bah and stood 

 in a row, tied to the ship's rail. Hitched to the other rail 

 were the Orang nanti (the Chain People, prisoners of 

 war), shackled together. They had been captured by the 

 Dutch in the Achinese war in Sumatra and were going to 

 build roads in Ceram. The fact that the beef had to be 

 butchered on deck — and there was not very much deck 

 at that — meant that my wife sat sewing in the opposite 

 direction, so to speak, waited till she heard the hose which 

 washed the gurry overboard, and then turned about to 

 find the table being set up. The ship's officers and the three 

 or four passengers on board all ate together on the open 

 deck. There was no ice aboard: our meat was fresh for 

 just one day. 



The absence of ice made photography difficult. The film 

 of thirty years ago softened easily and disintegrated in 

 warm water. Fresh water on the ship was coolest late at 

 night, so that is when we had to develop our pictures. Some 

 were lost, but luckily we saved the best of them by putting 

 a little formalin in the water to harden the film. 



At Ternate w^e were boarded by a Mr. Sedee, who had 

 agents in numberless little outposts and who dealt in rat- 

 tan, dammar gum, and bird-of-paradise plumes. He was a 

 mine of information — knew all about Wallace, though he 

 had never actually seen him. And he said one day, "To- 

 morrow we land in Ake Selaka and there fives Mr. Duiven- 



