THE ROAD OF BATAVIA. 27 



As we passed one of the outer islands, its trees were 

 quite covered with kites, gulls, and other sea-birds. 



The next evenino; we came to the Batavia road, 

 a shallow bay where ships lie 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 mountains appear in the 

 distance. Throuo;h this morass a canal has been cut. 

 Its sides are well walled in, and extend out some dis- 

 tance toward the shipping, on account of the shal- 

 lowness of the water along the shore. At 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 is 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 

 tliey had to hang with their heads downward — the 

 very ideal of ciiielty. 



