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At the end of this short cruise, we made sail for the island of Condore, or, as it is called on the charts of the China Sea, Pulo Condore, the word ‘pulo’ being the Chinese term for island.
My intention was to run into this small island, which has a snug harbor, sheltered from the monsoon, do some necessary repairs with my own mechanics, refit and repaint, and then run down to Singapore, and fill up with coal.
My future course would be guided by contingencies.
We made Pulo Condore early in the afternoon of the second of December, and passing to the northward of the ‘White Rock,’ bore up, and ran along the western side of the island until nightfall, when we anchored under the lee of a small, rocky island, near the mouth of the harbor.
The scenery was bold, picturesque, and impressive.
All was novelty; the shallow sea, the whistling monsoon, and the little islands rising so abruptly from the sea, that a goat could scarcely clamber up their sides.
The richest vegetation covered these islands from the sea-level to their summits.
Occasionally a break or gap in the mountain—for Pulo Condore rises to the height of a mountain—disclosed charming ravines, opening out into luxuriant plains, where were grazing the wild cattle of the country—the bison, or small-humped buffalo of the East.
At daylight the next morning, upon looking into the harbor with our glasses, we were surprised to see a small vessel at anchor, wearing the French flag; and pretty soon afterward we were boarded by a French boat; Pulo Condore—lying off the coast of Cochin China—having recently become a French colony.
The island had been taken possession of by France two years before.
The vessel was a ship of war, keeping watch and ward over the lonely waters.
This was a surprise.
I had expected to find the island in the hands of the Malay nomads who infest these seas, and to have converted it into Confederate territory, as I had done Angra Pequeña, on the west coast of Africa—at least during my stay.
And so when I had invited the French officer, who was himself the commander of the little craft, into my cabin, I remarked to him, ‘You have spoiled a pet project of mine.’
‘How so?’
said he. I then explained to him how, in imitation of my friend Brooke, I had intended to play Rajah for a few weeks, in Pulo
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