FORMOSA THE BEAUTIFUL 



By Alice Ballantine Kirjassoff 



Illustrated with photographs by the official photographer of the Government of 

 Taiwan and from the Chief of the Camphor Department 



I 



LHA FORMOSA," beautiful isle, 

 early Portuguese voyagers called 

 the island now owned by Japan 

 and known to them as Taiwan. The 

 Portuguese name has clung to it in all 

 European countries, and never was a 

 more appropriate name given to an isle 

 of the sea. 



If you care to confirm this in one of 

 several pleasant ways, sail along the west 

 coast of Formosa in a tek pai (or bamboo 

 raft, see page 246) on a clear day, and 

 you will witness a pageant of mountain 

 scenery that will haunt the memory for 

 many a day. 



Beyond the fertile plain, with its emer- 

 ald paddy-fields and its picturesque lit- 

 tle villages dotted here and there on 

 the banks of meandering streams, foot- 

 hills with unending variations of con- 

 tour silhouette their tree-fringed sum- 

 mits against the paler screen of more 

 distant mountains. Of these, sometimes 

 five and sometimes even six parallel 

 ranges are visible at once, each a separate 

 ribbon of color, shading from the deepest 

 sapphire to the palest azure and extend- 

 ing in an unbroken chain of beauty from 

 north to south. 



On the east of the island you can see 

 the highest coastal cliffs known, at some 

 places rising abruptly to an elevation of 

 about 6,000 feet, and affording an im- 

 pregnable wall of defense to the wild 

 aboriginal tribes living in the mountains 

 back of them. 



AN ISLAND OF AMAZING VARIETY OE 

 VEGETATION 



Formosan scenery is unusual in its 

 diversity of vegetation within such nar- 

 row confines — the greatest length of the 

 island from north to south is about 

 264 miles and 80 miles is its greatest 

 width. 



From the palms and tropical fruit-trees 

 of the western plain it is only a short 

 step to the slopes of the lower mountains, 



with their exuberant jungles of various 

 growths — the bearded banyans, the grace- 

 ful tree-ferns, which in sheltered nooks 

 attain the height of palms, and the 

 ubiquitous bamboo grass. 



Here, among moss-strung trees, is 

 found growing the beautiful butterfly 

 orchid, while in exposed spaces, nestling 

 among the rocks, rose-pink azaleas flaunt 

 their gay blooms. A little higher are 

 plateaus covered with camphor laurel, 

 the largest tracts of these valuable trees 

 in the world, while still higher grow the 

 forests of coniferous trees — the giant 

 benihi, similar to the redwoods of Cali- 

 fornia, the largest trees in the East and 

 the second largest in the world ; the val- 

 uable hinoki, or Japanese cypress, and 

 the pine, cedar, and spruce of the New 

 England States ; and higher yet the 

 craggy peaks of the tallest mountains, but 

 sparsely covered with vegetation of any 

 sort, where eagles build their nests, and 

 which for the greater part of the year 

 lie beneath a mantle of snow. 



"the second wettest port in the 

 world" 



The usual approach to the island is the 

 port of Kelung, in the extreme north. It 

 was here that the author of this paper 

 landed after a four days' steamer journey 

 from Kobe. The rain was coming down 

 in sheets, obscuring the hill-crested har- 

 bor, and all looked gloomy except for 

 one bright patch of sky, where the sun 

 was struggling to come through. 



I remember reading in my old gram- 

 mar-school geography that Kelung is the 

 second wettest port in the world, and I 

 have no trouble in believing it. I have 

 been there manv times, and each time it 

 has rained. Without showers, Kelung 

 would wear an unrecognizable face, like 

 a person without spectacles who was ac- 

 customed to wearing them. 



After disposing of the numerous por- 

 ters who escorted me from the steamer, 



247 



