Jan.  r,  1896.) 
THE  TROPICAL  AGRICULTURIST. 
445 
COPRA  IN  FIJI. 
Attention  is  drawn  in  our  advertising  columns  to 
an  ordinance  passed  in  Wallis  Island  for  the  pur- 
pose of  improving  the  qnaiity  of  the  copra  made  on 
the  island  of  Wallis  and  Futuna.  The  natives  are 
forbidden  to  climb  the  trees  e.vcept  to  obtain  nuts 
for  drinking  or  domestic  use,  and  only  nuts  naturally 
fallen  from  the  trees  are  to  be  used  for  copra  m iking. 
Traders  are  liable  to  lines  for  buying  bad  copra, 
so  that  it  is  evident  that  the  Government  intends 
to  improve  the  standard  of  thier  exports. 
The  native  tax  copra  has  been  coming  in  very- 
fast  during  the  last  month  or  two  and  has  every 
prospect  of  continuing.  It  is  expected  that  the  yield 
will  be  quite  equal  to  that  of  last  year,  so  that 
there  will  be  no  diminution  in  the  revenue  of  native 
taxes  as  was  anticipated  shortly  after  the  hurricane  of 
January  last.  A most  unwelcome  feature  has  how- 
ever cropped  up  in  connection  with  the  product  this 
season.  Several  cargoes  brought  to  Suva  have  been 
rejecte  1 and  sent  back  to  the  districts,  owing  to  the 
copra  being  damaged  by  salt  water.  This  has  been 
caused  piincipally  by  leaky  vessels  and  faulty  tar- 
paulins, w'hile  in  one  case  at  least  the  produce  was 
spoiled  by  the  ballast  being  taken  cut  and  the  vessel 
completely  filled  with  copra  which  was  thereby 
damaged  with  the  bilge  water.  The  damage  has 
occurred,  not  only  on  native  bo  ‘ts,  but  also  on 
European-owned  vessels.  Fully  fifty  tons  have  been 
rejected  on  this  account,  and  a certain  portion  of 
this  will  be  complete  loss.— Fiji  Times. 
— — — 
A DAY  ON  A LIBERIAN  COFFEE  ESTATE 
IN  THE  MALAY  PENINSULA. 
“ SuDA  PuKon  Lima,  Tuan  ” (5  o’clock,  sir !). 
With  these  words  am  I awakened  one  morning  by 
my  Chinese  boy.  Though  intensely  sleepy,  I have 
no  further  chance  of  rest,  as  my  ‘‘boss,”  no  gong 
being  handy,  begins  to  drum  violently  with  a boot 
on  the  wooden  partition  of  his  room.  So  I slip  out 
of  bed  and,  after  washing  my  face  and  hands,  ^et 
hastily  into  my  clothes,  a costume  consisting  of  a 
cotton  vest,  khaki  trousei'.s  and  button-up  coat, 
merino  socks  and  canvas  boots.  I5y  this  time  it  is 
half-past  five,  and  the  first  streaks  of  dawn  have 
been  appearing  for  the  last  few  minutes  in  the  East, 
the  mist  is  lifting,  and  the  birds  aro  already  giving 
notice  that  a new’  day  has  begun.  I shiver  as  I tuyn 
from  the  window,  and  am  truly  glad  when  my  boy 
reappears  to  announce,  “ Te  suda  siap,  tuan  ” (tea 
is  ready  sir). 
I am  soon  at  woik  on  hot  tea  and  the  inevitable 
pouched  egg  in  the  dining-room,  into  which  both  bed- 
rooms of  the  bungalow  open.  These  three  principal 
rooms  form  the  main  portion  of  the  building,  and 
stand  on  piles  rai.sed  four  feet  fj’om  the  ground. 
F’rom  the  back  of  each  bed-room,  steps  lead  to  the 
bath-room  below  ; here  also  arc  two  smaller  rooms 
used  respectively  for  stores  and  medicines,  and  the 
bungalow  opens  on  to  a verandah  in  front. 
By  the  time  my  meal  is  finished  it  is  quite  light, 
so,  putting  out  the  lamp  and  whistling  to  tho  dogs, 
the  manager  and  I start  out.  After  some  five  minutes’ 
walk  we  came  to  the  coolie  lines.  Here  arc  drawn  up 
two  long  rows  of  coolies,  Tamils  from  various  districts 
of  Madras,  the  men  separate  from  the  women  and 
children.  .The  manager  then  produces  his  small 
muster-book,  and  calls  out  from  it  the  names  of  the 
coolies ; opposite  the  names  of  those  who  are  pre- 
sent he  puts  a dot,  against  those  of  the  absent  a 
cross.  Muster  being  finished,  he  proceeds  to  tell  off 
his  coolies  to  their  various  works,  so  many  to 
holing,  so  many  to  filling,  so  many  to  weeding,  so 
many  to  pruning,  two  or  three  men  to  tlie  nursery,  and, 
lastly,  some  men  to  plant.  The  manager  then  goes 
back  to  the  bungalow,  saying  he  has  some  work  to  do, 
and  that  he  will  give  out  medicine  to  any  coolies  who 
are  sick,  and  thus  save  me  the  trouble  of  returning  to 
the  bungalow  for  what  is,  as  a rule,  part  of  my  duty. 
I start  off  to  the  weeders.  Weeds  in  this  tropical 
climate  ripen  and  seed  wonderfully  quickly,  so  quickly 
that  we  find  it  necessary  to  weed  every  portion  of  the 
estate  every  three  weeks.  One  weed  in  particular, 
called  vaalkic  by  the  Tamils,  a kind  of  chick-weed,  is 
the  bane  of  every  plantation  ; it  roots  very  deeply,  and 
if  any  portion  of  the  root  or  head  bo  left  on  the 
ground,  it  will  revive  as  though  it  had  never  been 
touched.  For  this  reason,  all  weeds  aro  collected  in 
sacks,  and,  after  ivork  is  over,  either  burnt  or  buried. 
Itach  weeder  is  supplied  with  one  small  sack,  and 
with  a small  pointed  stick  to  loosen  the  soil  at  the  weeds’ 
roots.  I give  each  coolie  so  many  rows  to  weed,  and  am 
careful  to  notice  whether  the  number  of  workers 
arrived  at  tho  spot  corresponds  with  the  number  des- 
patched from  muster. 
My  way  now  lies  through  jungle,  to  the  new  clear- 
ing, and  as  I take  the  path  all  is  shade,  though  in 
the  open  the  sun  has  already  begun  to  give  its  fierce 
heat.  My  dogs  thoroughly  enjoy  themselves  ranging 
on  either  side  of  the  track  in  search  of  game.  Squi- 
rrels of  several  kinds  run  up  the  trees  for  refuge, 
shaking  off  great  drops  of  dew  which  fall  on  my  pith 
hat  with  a thud.  Trees  rise  up  on  all  sides,  ranging 
from  the  slender  sapling  to  great  giants  of  a hundred 
and  fifty  feet  high,  interlaced  in  many  places  with 
beautiful  vines.  The  undergrowth  is  dense  : nowhere 
can  one  see  further  than  five  yards,  one  close 
mass  of  creepers,  palms  and  wild  ginger  leaves.  Here, 
in  the  shadow  of  the  trees,  is  none  of  that  gorgeous 
colouring,  or  life,  so  much  written  about  as 
existing  in  the  forests  of  Brazil.  It  is  true 
that  from  the  open  clearing,  at  certain  times 
of  the  year,  one  does  see  the  leafy  tops 
of  trees  here  and  there  glorified  by  tints  that  would 
shame  an  English  autumn,  but  in  the  shade  where 
I walk,  the  general  impression  is  'of  a great  green 
mass,  relieved  from  monotony  by  one  of  the  graceful 
rattan  tribe.  Save  for  the  occasional  scolding  of  a 
squirrel,  or  the  chattering  and  shrieking  of  various 
sorts  of  monkeys,  disturbed  by  the  approach  of  man, 
the  silence  is  wonderful.  The  birds  seem  to  be  ashamed 
of  themselves.  One  rarely  sees  them;  but  on 
this  path,  wherever  a gleam  of  sunshine  manages 
to  force  its  way,  colour  is  supplied  by  hundreds  of 
butterflies,  some  of  striking  brilliancy  and  beauty. 
Suddenly  my  reverie  is  rudely  disturbed  by  a great 
yelpping  of  the  dogs,  who,  seeming  to  scent  something, 
keeii  rustling  to  and  fro  in  the  undergrowth,  as  they 
now  find,  now  lose,  the  scent.  It  may  be  a wild 
pig ! And  I am  cursing  my  ill  luck  in  not  having  a 
gun  with  me,  when  a small  form,  no  doubt  the 
innocent  cause  of  all  the  commotion,  creeps  suddenly 
out  of  the  jungle  some  twenty  yards  away,  looks  round 
with  frightened  eyes,  and  then  hops  slowly  across 
the  bath,  back  into  tho  jungle.  This  is  a mouse-deer, 
the  smallest  of  all  deer,  perfectly  proportioned  though 
but  a foothigh.  The  dogs  soon  givo  up  the  chase,  and 
ciuno  back  to  my  side  just  as  I emerge  into  the  new 
clearing.  Here  is  what  would  seem  to  the  uniniti- 
ated a scene  of  wildest  coufu.sion,  trees  lying  about 
in  all  directions,  some  heaped  on  top  of  others,  and 
all  more  or  loss  charred  by  the  fire  that  was  applied 
to  them  a month  ago.  Now,  in  reality,  everything 
is  quite  in  order : if  one  looks  closely,  one  can  see 
pegs  placed  in  line  at  a space  of  ten  feet  apart,  this 
being  the  distance  at  which  holes  for  the  coffee 
plants  are  to  be  cut.  Wherever  a bough  would  have 
been  in  the  way,  it  has  been  lopped  off.  The  ex- 
planation of  the  seeming  disorder  is  that,  in  this 
country,  timber  is  never  removed  from  a felled  clear- 
ing. By  its  shade,  it  keeps  the  earth  from  drying 
too  fast,  and,  decaying  so  rapidly  as  it  does,  it  forms 
a valuable  top-dressing  for  the  soil. 
My  first  business  in  tho  new  clearing  is  to  inspect 
the  work  dono  by  tho  holers.  Each  of  these  is  armed 
with  a heavy  hoe  and  a sort  of  iron  scoop  into  which 
is  fitted  a long  handle.  The  hoe  is  used  instead  of 
spade  for  digging,  the  other  implement  to  trim  tho 
sides  of  tho  hole,  and  remove  earth  where  the  hoe 
cannot  reach.  I have  first  to  set  tho  coolies  their  task 
then  to  see  that  they  are  doing  their  work  properly' 
that  the  earth  which  they  remove  is  neatly,  piled  m 
one  or  two  heaps  We  do  not  allow  more,  as  tho  “fill- 
ing coolie,’’  whose  duty  it  will  bo  to  refill  these  holes 
with  top  soil,  would  have  to  hard  a task  had  he  first  to 
remove  the  earth  left  all  round  the  hole  by  a careless 
“holing  cocUe.’’ 
