SUMATRA'S WEST COAST 463 



days steaming brought us to anchor in the roadstead of Oleh-leh, 

 the port of the old capital of Achin, the fortified town of Kota 

 Radja. 



Under the kind escort of the captain we landed that Christmas 

 morning and drove from the port a distance of several miles to 

 Kota Radja. The city, which contains some 20,000 inhabitants, 

 is surrounded by a ten-foot iron picket fence, through which 

 access is gained at carefully guarded gateways. Inside the town 

 lies the walled fort, where the officers' quarters are found, and 

 which is also guarded, so that in case of a general attack it 

 may form a place of retreat. A string of some fourteen forts 

 and blockhouses has been thrown — horseshoe-like with either 

 end on the coast— about the town of Kota Radja and are all 

 connected by a narrow-gauge railroad with each other and with 

 Kota Radja itself. The coaches are provided with iron plating 

 and serve for the transport of supplies, of troops, and seemingly 

 of school children as well, for, as we made our visit to the block- 

 houses along the line, some bright-looking girls scrambled in, 

 books in hand, bound for the day school in Kota Radja, and 

 they seemed quite as unconcerned as if no war was in progress 

 and heedless of the fact that from the jungle in the near distance 

 might at an}' time issue a hail of bullets. 



These forts and blockhouses contain from 150 to 700 men 

 each and several Maxim gUns. They are made of piles 10 or 

 more feet high, driven closely together, and are protected by a 

 mass of wire stretched over low iron posts, barbed-wire fences, 

 and a broad border of century plants arranged in closely planted 

 rows; in fact, everything uncomfortable to bare feet is thrown 

 about these stockades: For a half mile or more about this line 

 of blockhouses the forest is entirely cleared away, leaving a 

 clean sweep for the Maxim guns, while inside the line of railway 

 the friendly natives are allowed to plant their rice. They are 

 prevented, however, from harvesting it until they shall have 

 spied out and delivered to the Dutch for punishment a certain 

 number of their warlike neighbors. 



It would be hard to imagine a more uninteresting life than 

 that led by the officers and soldiers who garrison these block- 

 houses. Narrow, low houses, with a single thickness of corru- 

 gated iron to keep out the heat of that burning tropical sun, few 

 trees or often none to shed a grateful shade, and no intercourse 

 with the outside world save through the occasional newspaper 

 or magazine — no seasons, no change from the daily routine of 



