[Footnote 1: "It is worthy of remark, that although all the troops in

Ceylon have occasionally, but at rare intervals; suffered severely from

cholera, the disease has in very few instances attacked the officers; or

indeed Europeans in the same grade of life. This is one important

difference to be borne in mind when estimating the comparative risk of

life in India and Ceylon. It must be due to the difference in comforts

and quarters, or more particularly to the exemption from night duty, by

far the most trying of the soldiers' hardships. The small mortality

amongst the officers of European regiments in Ceylon is very

remarkable."--_Note_ by Dr. CAMERON, Army Med. Staff.]

In some of the disorders incidental to the climate, and the treatment of

ulcerations caused by the wounds of the mosquitoes and leeches, the

native Singhalese have a deservedly high reputation; but their practice,

when it depends on specifics, is too empirical to be safely relied on;

and their traditional skill, though boasting a well authenticated

antiquity, achieves few triumphs in competition with the soberer

discipline of European science.

CHAP. III.

VEGETATION.--TREES AND PLANTS.

Although the luxuriant vegetation of Ceylon has at all times been the

theme of enthusiastic admiration, its flora does not probably exceed

3000 phænogamic plants[1]; and notwithstanding that it has a number of

endemic species, and a few genera, which are not found on the great

Indian peninsula, still its botanical features may be described as those

characteristic of the southern regions of Hindustan and the Dekkan. The

result of some recent experiments has, however, afforded a curious

confirmation of the opinion ventured by Dr. Gardner, that, regarding its

botany geographically, Ceylon exhibits more of the Malayan flora and

that of the Eastern Archipelago, than of any portion of India to the

west of it. Two plants peculiar to Malacca, the nutmeg and the

mangustin, have been attempted, but unsuccessfully, to be cultivated in

Bengal; but in Ceylon the former has been reared near Colombo with such

singular success that its produce now begins to figure in the exports of

the island;--and mangustins, which, ten years ago, were exhibited as

curiosities from a single tree in the old Botanic Garden at Colombo, are

found to thrive readily, and they occasionally appear at table,

rivalling in their wonderful delicacy of flavour those which have

heretofore been regarded as peculiar to the Straits.

[Footnote 1: The prolific vegetation of the island is likely to cause

exaggeration in the estimate of its variety. Dr. Gardner, shortly after

his appointment as superintendent of the Botanic Garden at Kandy, in

writing to Sir W. Hooker, conjectured that the Ceylon flora might extend

to 4000 or 5000 species. But from a recent _Report_ of the present

curator, Mr. Thwaites, it appears that the indigenous phænogamic plants

discovered up to August, 1856, was 2670; of which 2025 were

dicotyledonous, and 644 monocotyledonous flowering plants, besides 247

ferns and lycopods. When it is considered that this is nearly double the

indigenous flora of England, and little under _one thirtieth_ of the

entire number of plants hitherto described over the world, the botanical

richness of Ceylon, in proportion to its area, must be regarded as equal

to that of any portion of the globe.]

Up to the present time the botany of Ceylon has been imperfectly

submitted to scientific scrutiny. Linnæus, in 1747, prepared his _Flora

Zeylanica_, from specimens collected by Hermann, which had previously

constituted the materials of the _Thesaurus Zeylanicus_ of Burman and

now form part of the herbarium in the British Museum. A succession of

industrious explorers have been since engaged in following up the

investigation[1]; but, with the exception of an imperfect and

unsatisfactory catalogue by Moon, no enumeration of Ceylon plants has

yet been published. Dr. Gardner had made some progress with a Singhalese

Flora, when his death took place in 1849, an event which threw the task

on other hands, and has postponed its completion for years.[2]

[Footnote 1: Amongst the collections of Ceylon plants deposited in the

Hookerian Herbarium, are those made by General and Mrs. Walker, by Major

Champion (who left the island in 1848), and by Mr. Thwaites, who

succeeded Dr. Gardner in charge of the Royal Botanic Gardens at Kandy.

Moon, who had previously held that appointment, left extensive

collections in the herbarium at Peradenia which have been lately

increased by his successors; and Macrae, who was employed by the

Horticultural Society of London, has enriched their museum with Ceylon

plants. Some admirable letters of Mrs. Walker are printed in HOOKER'S

_Companion to the Botanical Magazine_. They include an excellent account

of the vegetation of Ceylon.]

[Footnote 2: Dr. Gardner, in 1848, drew up a short paper containing

_Some Remarks on the Flora of Ceylon_, which was printed in the appendix

to LEE'S _Translation of Ribeyro_: to this essay, and to his personal

communications during frequent journeys, I am indebted for many facts

incorporated in the following pages.]

From the identity of position and climate, and the apparent similarity

of soil between Ceylon and the southern extremity of the Indian

peninsula, a corresponding agreement might be expected between their

vegetable productions: and accordingly in its aspects and subdivisions

Ceylon participates in those distinctive features which the monsoons

have imparted respectively to the opposite shores of Hindustan. The

western coast being exposed to the milder influence of the south-west

wind, shows luxuriant vegetation, the result of its humid and temperate

climate; whilst the eastern, like Coromandel, has a comparatively dry

and arid aspect, produced by the hot winds which blow for half the year.

The littoral vegetation of the seaborde exhibits little variation from

that common throughout the Eastern archipelago; but it wants the

_Phoenix paludosa_[1], a dwarf date-palm, which literally covers the

islands of the Sunderbunds at the delta of the Ganges. A dense growth of

mangroves[2] occupies the shore, beneath whose overarching roots the

ripple of the sea washes unseen over the muddy beach.

[Footnote 1: Drs. HOOKER and THOMSON, in their _Introductory Essay to

the Flora of India_, speaking of Ceylon, state that the _Nipa fruticans_

(another characteristic palm of the Gangetic delta) and _Cycads_ are

also wanting there, but both these exist (the former abundantly), though

perhaps not alluded to in any work on Ceylon botany to which those

authors had access. In connection with this subject it may be mentioned,

as a fact which is much to be regretted, that, although botanists have

been appointed to the superintendence of the Botanic Gardens at Kandy,

information regarding the vegetation of the island is scarcely

obtainable without extreme trouble and reference to papers scattered

through innumerable periodicals. That the majority of Ceylon plants are

already known to science is owing to the coincidence of their being also

natives of India, whence they have been described; but there has been no

recent attempt on the part of colonial or European botanists even to

throw into a useful form the already published descriptions of the

commoner plants of the island. Such a work would be the first step to a

Singhalese Flora. The preparation of such a compendium would seem, to

belong to the duties of the colonial botanist, and as such it was an

object of especial solicitude to the late superintendent, Dr. Gardner.

But the heterogeneous duties imposed upon the person holding his office

(the evils arising from which are elsewhere alluded to), have hitherto

been insuperable obstacles to the attainment of this object, as they

have also been to the preparation of a systematic account of the general

features of Ceylon vegetation. Such a work is strongly felt to be a

desideratum by numbers of intelligent persons in Ceylon, who are not

accomplished botanists, but who are anxious to acquire accurate ideas as

to the aspects of the flora at different elevations, different seasons,

and different quarters of the island; of the kinds of plants that

chiefly contribute to the vegetation of the coasts, the plains, and

mountains; of the general relations that subsist between them and the

flora of the Carnatic, Malabar, and the Malay archipelago; and of the

more useful plants in science, arts, medicine, and commerce.

To render such a work (however elementary) at once accurate as well as

interesting, would require sound scientific knowledge; and, however

skilfully and popularly written, there would still be portions somewhat

difficult of comprehension to the ordinary reader; but curiosity would

be stimulated by the very occurrence of difficulty, and thus an impulse

might be given to the acquisition of rudimentary botany, which would

eventually enable the inquirer to contribute his quota to the natural

history of Ceylon.

P.S. Since the foregoing was written, Mr. Thwaites has announced the

early publication of a new work on Ceylon plants, to be entitled

_Enumeratio Plantarum Zeylaniæ: with Descriptions of the new and little

known genera and species_, and observations on their habits, uses, &c.

In the Identification of the species Mr. Thwaites is to be assisted by

Dr. Hooker, F.R.S.; and from their conjoint labours we may at last hope

for a production worthy of the subject.]

[Footnote 2: Rhizophera Candelaria, Kandelia Rheedei, Bruguiera

gymnorhiza.]

Retiring from the strand, there are groups of _Sonneratia[1], Avicennia,

Heritiera_, and _Pandanus_; the latter with a stem like a dwarf palm,

round which the serrated leaves ascend in spiral convolutions till they

terminate in a pendulous crown, from which drop the amber clusters of

beautiful but uneatable fruit, with a close resemblance in shape and

colour to that of the pineapple, from which, and from the peculiar

arrangement of the leaves, the plant has acquired its name of the

Screw-pine.

[Footnote 1: At a meeting of the Entomological Society in 1842, Dr.

Templeton sent, for the use of the members, many thin slices of

substance to replace cork-wood as a lining for insect cases and drawers.

Along with the soft wood he sent the following notice:--"In this country

(he writes from Colombo, Ceylon, May 19, 1842), along the marshy banks

of the large rivers, grows a very large handsome tree, named _Sonneratia

acida_, by the younger Linnæus: its roots spread far and wide through

the soft moist earth, and at various distances along send up most

extraordinary long spindle-shaped excrescences four or five feet above

the surface. Of these Sir James Edward Smith remarks 'what these

horn-shaped excrescences are which occupy the soil at some distance from

the base of the tree from a span to a foot in length and of a corky

substance, as described by Rumphins, we can offer no conjecture.' Most

curious things (remarks Dr. Templeton) they are; they all spring very

narrow from the root, expand as they rise, and then become gradually

attenuated, occasionally forking, but never throwing out shoots or

leaves, or in any respect resembling the parent root or wood. They are

firm and close in their texture, nearly devoid of fibrous structure, and

take a moderate polish when cut with a sharp instrument; but for lining

insect boxes and making setting-boards they have no equal in the world.

The finest pin passes in with delightful ease and smoothness, and is

held firmly and tightly so that there is no risk of the insects becoming

disengaged. With a fine saw I form them into little boards and then

smooth them with a sharp case knife, but the London veneering-mills

would turn them out fit for immediate use, without any necessity for

more than a touch of fine glass-paper. Some of my pigmy boards are two

feet long by three and a half inches wide, which is more than sufficient

for our purpose, and to me they have proved a vast acquisition. The

natives call them 'Kirilimow,' the latter syllable signifying

root"--TEMPLETON, _Trans. Ent. Soc._ vol. iii. p. 302.]

A little further inland, the sandy plains are covered by a thorny

jungle, the plants of which are the same as those of the Carnatic, the

climate being alike; and wherever man has encroached on the solitude,

groves of coco-nut palms mark the vicinity of his habitations.

Remote from the sea, the level country of the north has a flora almost

identical with that of Coromandel; but the arid nature of the Ceylon

soil, and its drier atmosphere, is attested by the greater proportion of

euphorbias and fleshy shrubs, as well as by the wiry and stunted nature

of the trees, their smaller leaves and thorny stems and branches.[1]

[Footnote 1: Dr. Gardner.]

Conspicuous amongst them are acacias of many kinds; _Cassia fistula_ the

wood apple (_Feronia elephantum_), and the mustard tree of Scripture

(_Salvadora Persica_), which extends from Ceylon to the Holy Land. The

margosa (_Azadirachta Indica_), the satin wood, the Ceylon oak, and the

tamarind and ebony, are examples of the larger trees; and in the extreme

north and west the Palmyra palm takes the place of the coco-nut, and not

only lines the shore, but fills the landscape on every side with its

shady and prolific groves.

Proceeding southward on the western coast, the acacias disappear, and

the greater profusion of vegetation, the taller growth of the timber,

and the darker tinge of the foliage, all attest the influence of the

increased moisture both from the rivers and the rains. The brilliant

_Ixoras, Erythrinas, Buteas, Jonesias, Hibiscus_, and a variety of

flowering shrubs of similar beauty, enliven the forests with their

splendour; and the seeds of the cinnamon, carried by the birds from the

cultivated gardens near the coasts, have germinated in the sandy soil,

and diversify the woods with the fresh verdure of its polished leaves

and delicately-tinted shoots. It is to be found universally to a

considerable height in the lower range of hills, and thither the Chalias

were accustomed to resort to cut and peel it, a task which was imposed

on them as a feudal service by the native sovereign, who paid an annual

tribute in prepared cinnamon to the Dutch, and to the present time this

branch of the trade in the article continues, but divested of its

compulsory character.

The Dutch, in like manner, maintained, during the entire period of their

rule, an extensive commerce in pepper worts, which still festoon the

forest, but the export has almost ceased from Ceylon. Along with these

the trunks of the larger trees are profusely covered with other delicate

creepers, chiefly Convolvuli and Ipomoeas; and the pitcher-plant

(_Nepenthes distillatoria_) lures the passer-by to halt and conjecture

the probable uses of the curious mechanism, by means of which it distils

a quantity of limpid fluid into the vegetable vases at the extremity of

its leaves. The Orchideæ suspend their pendulous flowers from the angles

of branches, whilst the bare roots and the lower part of the stem are

occasionally covered with fungi of the most gaudy colours, bright red,

yellow, and purple.

Of the east side of the island the botany has never yet been examined by

any scientific resident, but the productions of the hill country have

been largely explored, and present features altogether distinct from

those of the plains. For the first two or three thousand feet the

dissimilarity is less perceptible to an unscientific eye, but as we

ascend, the difference becomes apparent in the larger size of the

leaves, and the nearly uniform colour of the foliage, except where the

scarlet shoots of the ironwood tree (_Mesua ferrea_) seem, like flowers

in their blood-red hue. Here the broad leaves of the wild plantains

(_Musa textilis_) penetrate the soil among the broken rocks; and in

moist spots the graceful bamboo flourishes in groups, whose feathery

foliage waves like the plumes of the ostrich.[1] It is at these

elevations that the sameness of the scenery is diversified by the grassy

patenas before alluded to[2], which, in their aspect, though not their

extent, may be called the Savannahs of Ceylon. Here peaches, cherries,

and other European fruit trees, grow freely; but they become evergreens

in this summer climate, and, exhausted by perennial excitement, and

deprived of their winter repose, they refuse to ripen their fruit.[3] A

similar failure was discovered in some European vines, which were

cultivated at Jaffna; but Mr. Dyke, the government agent, in whose

garden they grew, conceiving that the activity of the plants might be

equally checked by exposing them to an extreme of warmth, as by

subjecting them to cold, tried, with perfect success, the experiment of

laying bare the roots in the strongest heat of the sun. The result

verified his conjecture. The circulation of the sap was arrested, the

vines obtained the needful repose, and the grapes, which before had

fallen almost unformed from the tree, are now brought to thorough

maturity, though inferior in flavour to those produced at home.[4]

[Footnote 1: In the Malayan peninsula the bamboo has been converted into

an instrument of natural music, by perforating it with holes through

which the wind is permitted to sigh; and the effect is described as

perfectly charming. Mr. Logan, who in 1847 visited Naning; contiguous to

the frontier of the European settlement of Malacca, on approaching the

village of Kándáng, was surprised by hearing "the most melodious sounds,

some soft and liquid like the notes of a flute, and others deep and full

like the tones of an organ. They were sometimes low, interrupted, or

even single, and presently they would swell into a grand burst of

mingled melody. On drawing near to a clump of trees; above the branches

of which waved a slender bamboo about forty feet in length, he found

that the musical tones issued from it, and were caused by the breeze

passing through perforations in the stem; the instrument thus formed is

called by the natives the _bulu perindu_, or plaintive bamboo." Those

which Mr. Logan saw had a slit in each joint, so that each stem

possessed fourteen or twenty notes.]

[Footnote 2: See _ante_, p. 24.]

[Footnote 3: The apple-tree in the Peradenia Gardens seems not only to

have become an evergreen but to have changed its character in another

particular; for it is found to send out numerous runners under ground,

which continually rise into small stems and form a growth of shrub-like

plants around the parent tree.]

[Footnote 4: An equally successful experiment, to give the vine an

artificial winter by baring the roots, is recorded by Mr. BALLARD, of

Bombay, in the _Transactions of the Agric. and Hortic. Society of

India_, under date 24th May,1824. Calcutta. 1850. Vol. i. p. 96.]

The tea plant has been raised with complete success in the hills on the

estate of the Messrs. Worms, at Rothschild, in Pusilawa[1]; but the want

of any skilful manipulators to collect and prepare the leaves, renders

it hopeless to attempt any experiment on a large scale, until assistance

can be secured from China, to conduct the preparation.

[Footnote 1: The cultivation of tea was attempted by the Dutch, but

without success.]

Still ascending, at an elevation of 6500 feet, as we approach the

mountain plateau of Neuera-ellia, the dimensions of the trees again

diminish, the stems and branches are covered with orchideæ and mosses,

and around them spring up herbaceous plants and balsams, with here and

there broad expanses covered with _Acanthaceæ_, whose seeds are the

favourite food of the jungle fowl, which are always in perfection during

the ripening of the Nilloo.[1] It is in these regions that the

tree-ferns (_Alsophila gigantea_) rise from the damp hollows, and carry

their gracefully plumed heads sometimes to the height of twenty feet.

[Footnote 1: There are said to be fourteen species of the Nilloo

(_Strobilanthes_) in Ceylon. They form a complete under-growth in the

forest five or six feet in height, and sometimes extending for miles.

When in bloom, their red and blue flowers are a singularly beautiful

feature in the landscape, and are eagerly searched by the honey bees.

Some species are said to flower only once in five, seven, or nine years;

and after ripening their seed they die. This is one reason assigned for

the sudden appearance of the rats, which have been elsewhere alluded to

(vol. i. p. 149, ii. p. 234) as invading the coffee estates, when

deprived of their ordinary food by the decay of the nilloo. It has been

observed that the jungle fowl, after feeding on the nilloo, have their

eyes so affected by it, as to be partially blinded, and permit

themselves to be taken by the hand. Are the seeds of this plant narcotic

like some of the _Solanaceaæ_? or do they cause dilatation of the pupil,

like those of the _Atropa Belladonna_?]

At length in the loftiest range of the hills the Rhododendrons are

discovered; no longer delicate bushes, as in Europe, but timber trees of

considerable height, and corresponding dimensions, and every branch

covered with a blaze of crimson flowers. In these forests are also to be

met with some species of _Michelia_, the Indian representatives of the

Magnolias of North America, several arboreous _myrtaceæ_ and

_ternstromiaceæ_, the most common of which is the camelia-like _Gordonia

Ceylanica_.[1] These and _Vaccinia, Gaultheria, Symploci, Goughia_, and

_Gomphandra_, establish the affinity between the vegetation of this

region and that of the Malabar ranges, the Khasia and Lower Himalaya.[2]

[Footnote 1: Dr. Gardner.]

[Footnote 2: _Introduction to the Flora Indica_ of Dr. HOOKER and Dr.

THOMSON, p. 120. London, 1855.]

Generally speaking, the timber on the high mountains is of little value

for oeconomic purposes. Though of considerable dimensions, it is too

unsubstantial to be serviceable for building or domestic uses; and

perhaps, it may be regarded as an evidence of its perishable nature,

that dead timber is rarely to be seen in any quantity encumbering the

ground, in the heart of the deepest forests. It seems to go to dust

almost immediately after its fall, and although the process of

destruction is infinitely accelerated by the ravages of insects,

especially the white ants (_termites_) and beetles, which instantly

seize on every fallen branch: still, one would expect that the harder

woods would, more or less, resist their attacks till natural

decomposition should have facilitated their operations and would thus

exhibit more leisurely the progress of decay. But here decay is

comparatively instantaneous, and it is seldom that fallen timber is to

be found, except in the last stage of conversion into dust.

Some of the trees in the higher ranges are remarkable for the prodigious

height to which they struggle upwards from the dense jungle towards the

air and light; and one of the most curious of nature's devices, is the

singular expedient by which some families of these very tall and

top-heavy trees throw out buttresses like walls of wood, to support

themselves from beneath. Five or six of these buttresses project like

rays from all sides of the trunk: they are from six to twelve inches

thick, and advance from five to fifteen feet outward; and as they

ascend, gradually sink into the hole and disappear at the height of from

ten to twenty feet from the ground. By the firm resistance which they

offer below, the trees are effectually steadied, and protected from the

leverage of the crown, by which they would otherwise be uprooted. Some

of these buttresses are so smooth and flat, as almost to resemble sawn

planks.

The greatest ornaments of the forest in these higher regions are the

large flowering trees; the most striking of which is the Rhododendron,

which in Ceylon forms a forest in the mountains, and when covered with

flowers, it seems from a distance as though the hills were strewn with

vermilion. This is the principal tree on the summit of Adam's Peak, and

grows to the foot of the rock on which rests the little temple that

covers the sacred footstep on its crest. Dr. Hooker states that the

honey of its flowers is believed to be poisonous in some parts of

Sikkim; but I never heard it so regarded in Ceylon.

One of the most magnificent of the flowering trees, is the coral

tree[1], which is also the most familiar to Europeans, as the natives of

the low country and the coast, from the circumstance of its stem being

covered with thorns, plant it largely for fences, and grow it in the

vicinity of their dwellings. It derives its English name from the

resemblance which its scarlet flowers present to red coral, and as these

clothe the branches before the leaves appear, their splendour attracts

the eye from a distance, especially when lighted by the full blaze of

the sun.

[Footnote 1: _Erythrina Indica_. It belongs to the pea tribe, and must

not be confounded with the _Jatropha multifida_ which has also acquired

the name of the _coral tree_. Its wood is so light and spongy, that it

is used in Ceylon to form corks for preserve jars; and both there and at

Madras the natives make from it models of their implements of husbandry,

and of their sailing boats and canoes.]

The Murutu[1] is another flowering tree which may vie with the Coral,

the Rhododendron, or the Asoca, the favourite of Sanskrit poetry. It

grows to a considerable height, especially in damp places and the

neighbourhood of streams, and pains have been taken, from appreciation

of its attractions, to plant it by the road side and in other

conspicuous positions. From the points of the branches panicles are

produced, two or three feet in length, composed of flowers, each the

size of a rose and of all shades, from a delicate pink to the deepest

purple. It abounds in the south-west of the island.

[Footnote 1: Lagerstroemia Reginæ.]

The magnificent Asoca[1] is found in the interior, and is cultivated,

though not successfully, in the Peradenia Garden, and in that attached

to Elie House at Colombo. But in Toompane, and in the valley of

Doombera, its loveliness vindicates all the praises bestowed on it by

the poets of the East. Its orange and crimson flowers grow in graceful

racemes, and the Singhalese, who have given the rhododendron the

pre-eminent appellation of the "great red flower," (_maha-rat-mal_,)

have called the Asoca the _diya-rat-mal_ to indicate its partiality for

"moisture," combined with its prevailing hue.

[Footnote 1: Jonesia Asoca.]

But the tree which will most frequently attract the eye of the

traveller, is the kattoo-imbul of the Singhalese[1], one of which

produces the silky cotton which, though incapable of being spun, owing

to the shortness of its delicate fibre, makes the most luxurious

stuffing for sofas and pillows. It is a tall tree covered with

formidable thorns; and being deciduous, the fresh leaves, like those of

the coral tree, do not make their appearance till after the crimson

flowers have covered the branches with their bright tulip-like petals.

So profuse are these gorgeous flowers, that when they fall, the ground

for many roods on all sides is a carpet of scarlet. They are succeeded

by large oblong pods, in which the black polished seeds are deeply

embedded in the floss which is so much prized by the natives. The trunk

is of an unusually bright green colour, and the branches issue

horizontally from the stem, in whorls of threes with a distance of six

or seven feet between each whorl.

[Footnote 1: _Bombax Malabaricus_. As the genus Bombax is confined to

tropical America, the German botanists, Schott and Endlicher, have

assigned to the imbul its ancient Sanskrit name, and described it as

_Salmalia Malabarica_.]

Near every Buddhist temple the priests plant the Iron tree (_Messua

ferrea_)[1] for the sake of its flowers, with which they decorate the

images of Buddha. They resemble white roses, and form a singular

contrast with the buds and shoots of the tree, which are of the deepest

crimson. Along with its flowers the priests use likewise those of the

Champac (_Michelia Champaca_), belonging to the family of magnoliaceæ.

They have a pale yellow tint, with the sweet oppressive perfume which is

celebrated in the poetry of the Hindus. From the wood of the champac the

images of Buddha are carved for the temples.

[Footnote 1: Dr. Gardner supposed the ironwood tree of Ceylon to have

been confounded with the _Messua ferrea_ of Linnæus. He asserted it to

be a distinct species, and assigned to it the well-known Singhalese name

"_nagaha_," or _iron-wood tree_. But this conjecture has since proved

erroneous.]

The celebrated Upas tree of Java (_Antiaris toxicaria_) which has been

the subject of so many romances, exploded by Dr. Horsfield[1], was

supposed by Dr. Gardner to exist in Ceylon, but more recent scrutiny has

shown that what he mistook for it, was an allied species, the _A.

saccidora_, which grows at Kornegalle, and in other parts of the island;

and is scarcely less remarkable, though for very different

characteristics. The Ceylon species was first brought to public notice

by E. Rawdon Power, Esq., government agent of the Kandyan province, who

sent specimens of it, and of the sacks which it furnishes, to the branch

of the Asiatic Society at Colombo. It is known to the Singhalese by the

name of "ritigaha," and is identical with the _Lepurandra saccidora_,

from which the natives of Coorg, like those of Ceylon, manufacture an

ingenious substitute for sacks by a process which is described by Mr.

Nimmo.[2] "A branch is cut corresponding to the length and breadth of

the bag required, it is soaked and then beaten with clubs till the liber

separates from the timber. This done, the sack which is thus formed out

of the bark is turned inside out, and drawn downwards to permit the wood

to be sawn off, leaving a portion to form the bottom which is kept

firmly in its place by the natural attachment of the bark."

[Footnote 1: The vegetable poisons, the use of which is ascribed to the

Singhalese, are chiefly the seeds of the _Datura_, which act as a

powerful narcotic, and those of the _Croton tiglium_, the excessive

effect of which ends in death. The root of the _Nerium odorum_ is

equally fatal, as is likewise the exquisitely beautiful _Gloriosa

superba_, whose brilliant flowers festoon the jungle in the plains of

the low country. See Bennett's account of the _Antiaris_, in HORSFIELD'S

_Plantæ Javanicæ_.]

[Footnote 2: Catalogue of Bombay Plants, p. 193. The process in Ceylon

is thus described in Sir W. HOOKER'S _Report on the Vegetable Products_

exhibited in Paris in 1855: "The trees chosen for the purpose measure

above a foot in diameter. The felled trunks are cut into lengths, and

the bark is well beaten with a stone or a club till the parenchymatous

part comes off, leaving only the inner bark attached to the wood; which

is thus easily drawn out by the hand. The bark thus obtained is fibrous

and tough, resembling a woven fabric: it is sewn at one end into a sack,

which is filled with sand, and dried in the sun."]

As we descend the hills the banyans[1] and a variety of figs make their

appearance. They are the Thugs of the vegetable world, for although not

necessarily epiphytic, it may be said that in point of fact no single

plant comes to perfection, or acquires even partial development, without

the destruction of some other on which to fix itself as its supporter.

The family generally make their first appearance as slender roots

hanging from the crown or trunk of some other tree, generally a palm,

among the moist bases of whose leaves the seed carried thither by some

bird which had fed upon the fig, begins to germinate. This root

branching as it descends, envelopes the trunk of the supporting tree

with a network of wood, and at length penetrating the ground, attains

the dimensions of a stem. But unlike a _stem_ it throws out no buds,

leaves, or flowers; the true stem, with its branches, its foliage, and

fruit, springs upwards from the crown of the tree whence the root is

seen descending; and from it issue the pendulous rootlets, which, on

reaching the earth, fix themselves firmly and form the marvellous growth

for which the banyan is so celebrated.[2] In the depth of this grove,

the original tree is incarcerated till, literally strangled by the folds

and weight of its resistless companion, it dies and leaves the fig in

undisturbed possession of its place. It is not unusual in the forest to

find a fig-tree which had been thus upborne till it became a standard,

now forming a hollow cylinder, the centre of which was once filled by

the sustaining tree: but the empty walls form a circular network of

interlaced roots and branches; firmly agglutinated under pressure, and

admitting the light through interstices that look like loopholes in a

turret.

[Footnote 1: Ficus Indica.]

[Footnote 2: I do not remember to have seen the following passage from

Pliny referred to as the original of Milton's description of this

marvellous tree:--

"Ipsa se serens, vastis diffunditur ramis: quorum imi adeo in terram

curvantur, ut annuo spatio infigantur, novamque sibi _propaginem faciant

circa parentem in orbem._ Intra septem eam _æstivant pastores_, opacam

pariter et munitam vallo arboris, decora specie subter intuenti,

proculve, _fornicato_ arbore. Foliorum latitudo _peltæ effigiem

Amazonicæ_ habet," &c.--PLINY, 1. xii. c. 11.

"The fig-tree--not that kind for fruit renowned,

But such as at this day to Indians known,

In Malabar or Dekkan spreads her arms,

Branching so broad and long, that on the ground

The bended twigs take root, and _daughters grow

About the mother tree: a pillar'd_ shade

High over arched and echoing walks between.

There oft the Indian herdsman, shunning heat,

Shelters in cool and _tends his pasturing flocks_

At loop-holes cut through thickest shade. These leaves

They gathered; broad as _Amazonian targe:_

And with what skill they had, together sewed

To gird their waist," &c.

_Par. Lost_, ix. 1100.

Pliny's description is borrowed, with some embellishments, from

THEOPHRASTUS _de. Nat. Plant._ l. i. 7. iv. 4.]

[Illustration: MARRIAGE OF THE FIG-TREE AND THE PALM.]

Another species of the same genus, _F. repens,_ is a fitting

representative of the English ivy, and is constantly to be seen

clambering over rocks, turning through heaps of stones, or ascending

some tall tree to the height of thirty or forty feet, while the

thickness of its own stem does not exceed a quarter of an inch.

The facility with which the seeds of the fig-tree take root where there

is a sufficiency of moisture to permit of germination, has rendered them

formidable assailants of the ancient monuments throughout Ceylon. The

vast mounds of brickwork which constitute the remains of the Dagobas at

Anarajapoora and Pollanarrua are covered densely with trees, among which

the figs are always conspicuous. One, which has fixed itself on the

walls of a ruined edifice at the latter city, forms one of the most

remarkable objects of the place--its roots streaming downwards over the

walls as if their wood had once been fluid, follow every sinuosity of

the building and terraces till they reach the earth.

[Illustration: A FIG TREE ON THE RUINS OF POLLANARRUA.]

To this genus belongs the Sacred Bo-tree of the Buddhists, _Ficus

religiosa,_ which is planted close to every temple, and attracts almost

as much veneration as the statue of the god himself. At Anarajapoora is

still preserved the identical tree said to have been planted 288 years

before the Christian era.[1]

[Footnote 1: For a memoir of this celebrated tree, see the account of

Anarajapoora, Vol. II. p. 10.]

Although the India-rubber tree (_F. elastica_) is not indigenous to

Ceylon, it is now very widely diffused over the island. It is remarkable

for the pink leathery covering which envelopes the leaves before

expansion, and for the delicate tracing of the nerves which run in

equi-distant rows at right angles from the mid-rib. But its most

striking feature is the exposure of its roots, masses of which appear

above ground, extending on all sides from the base, and writhing over

the surface in undulations--

"Like snakes in wild festoon,

In ramous wrestlings interlaced,

A forest Laocoon."[1]

[Footnote 1: HOOD's poem of _The Elm Tree._]

So strong, in fact, is the resemblance, that the villagers give it the

name of the "Snake-tree." One, which grows close to Cotta, at the Church

Missionary establishment within a few miles of Colombo, affords a

remarkable illustration of this peculiarity.

[Illustration: THE SNAKE-TREE.]

There is an avenue of these trees leading to the Gardens of Peradenia,

the roots of which meet from either side of the road, and have so

covered the surface by their agglutinated reticulations as to form a

wooden framework, the interstices of which retain the materials that

form the roadway.[1]

[Footnote 1: Mr. Ferguson of the Surveyor-General's Department, assures

me that he once measured the root of a small wild fig-tree, growing in a

patena at Hewahette, and found it upwards of 140 feet in length, whilst

the tree itself was not 30 feet high.]

The Kumbuk of the Singhalese (called by the Tamils Maratha-maram)[1] is

one of the noblest and most widely distributed trees in the island; it

delights in the banks of rivers and moist borders of tanks and canals;

it overshadows the stream of the Mahawelli-ganga, almost from Kandy to

the sea; and it stretches its great arms above the still water of the

lakes on the eastern side of the island.

[Footnote 1: Pentaptera tomentosa _(Rox.)_.]

One venerable patriarch of this species, which grows at Mutwal, within

three miles of Colombo, towers to so great a height above the

surrounding forests of coconut palms, that it forms a landmark for the

native boatmen, and is discernible from Negombo, more than twenty miles

distant. The circumference of its stem, as measured by Mr. W. Ferguson,

in 1850, was forty-five feet close to the earth, and seven yards at

twelve feet above the ground.

The timber, which is durable, is applied to the carving of idols for the

temples, besides being extensively used for less dignified purposes; but

it is chiefly prized for the bark, which is sold as a medicine, and, in

addition to yielding a black dye, it is so charged with calcareous

matter that its ashes, when burnt, afford a substitute for the lime

which the natives chew with their betel.

Some of the trees found in the forests of the interior are remarkable

for the curious forms in which they produce their seeds. One of these,

which sometimes grows to the height of one hundred feet without throwing

out a single branch, has been confounded with the durian of the Eastern

Archipelago, or supposed to be an allied species[1], but it differs from

it in the important particular that its fruit is not edible. The real

durian is not indigenous to Ceylon, but was brought there by the

Portuguese in the sixteenth century.[2] It has been very recently

re-introduced, and is now cultivated successfully. The native name for

the Singhalese tree, "Katu-boeda," denotes the prickles that cover its

fruit, which is as large as a coco-nut, and set with thorns each nearly

an inch in length.

[Footnote 1: It is the _Cullenia excelsa_ of WIGHT's _Icones, &c._

(761-2).]

[Footnote 2: PORCACCHI, in his _Isolario_, written in the sixteenth

century, enumerates the true durian as being then amongst the ordinary

fruit of Ceylon.--"Vi nasce anchora un frutto detto Duriano, verde et

grande come quei cocomeri, che a Venetia son chiamati angurie: in mezo

del quale trouano dentro cinque frutti de sapor molto excellente."--Lib.

iii. p. 188. Padua, A.D. 1619.]

The _Sterculia foetida,_ one of the finest and noblest of the Ceylon

forest-trees, produces from the end of its branches large bunches of

dark purple flowers of extreme richness and beauty; but emitting a

stench so intolerable as richly to entitle it to its very characteristic

botanical name. The fruit is equally remarkable, and consists of several

crimson cases of the consistency of leather, within which are enclosed a

number of black bean-like seeds: these are dispersed by the bursting of

their envelope, which splits open to liberate them when sufficiently

ripened.

The Moodilla (_Barringtonia speciosa_) is another tree which attracts

the eye of the traveller, not less from the remarkably shaped fruit

which it bears than from the contrast between its dark glossy leaves and

the delicate flowers which they surround. The latter are white, tipped

with crimson, but the petals drop off early, and the stamens, of which

there are nearly a hundred to each flower, when they fall to the ground

might almost be mistaken for painters' brushes. The tree (as its name

implies) loves the shore of the sea, and its large quadrangular fruits,

of pyramidal form, being protected by a hard fibrous covering, are

tossed by the waves till they root themselves on the beach. It grows

freely at the mouths of the principal rivers on the west coast, and

several noble specimens of it are found near the fort of Colombo.

The Goda-kaduru, or _Strychnos nux-vomica_ is abundant in these

prodigious forests, and has obtained an European celebrity on account of

its producing the poisonous seeds from which strychnine is extracted.

Its fruit, which it exhibits in great profusion, is of the size and

colour of a small orange, within which a pulpy substance envelopes the

seeds that form the "nux-vomica" of commerce. It grows in great

luxuriance in the vicinity of the ruined tanks throughout the Wanny, and

on the west coast as far south as Negombo. It is singular that in this

genus there should be found two plants, the seeds of one being not only

harmless but wholesome, and that of the other the most formidable of

known poisons.[1] Amongst the Malabar immigrants there is a belief that

the seeds of the goda-kaduru, if habitually taken, will act as a

prophylactic against the venom of the cobra de capello; and I have been

assured that the coolies coming from the coast of India accustom

themselves to eat a single seed per day in order to acquire the desired

protection from the effects of this serpent's bite.[2]

[Footnote 1: The _tettan-cotta,_ the use of which is described in Vol.

II. Pt. ix. ch. i. p. 411, when applied by the natives to clarify muddy

water, is the seed of another species of strychnos, _S. potatorum_. The

Singhalese name is _ingini_ (_tettan-cotta_ is Tamil).]

[Footnote 2: In India, the distillers of arrack from the juice of the

coco-nut palm are said, by Roxburgh, to introduce the seeds of the

strychnus, in order to increase the intoxicating power of the spirit.]

In these forests the Euphorbia[1], which we are accustomed to see only

as a cactus-like green-house plant, attains the size and strength of a

small timber-tree; its quadrangular stem becomes circular and woody, and

its square fleshy shoots take the form of branches, or rise with a

rounded top as high as thirty feet.[2]

[Footnote 1: E. Antiquorun.]

[Footnote 2: Amongst the remarkable plants of Ceylon, there is one

concerning which a singular error has been perpetuated in botanical

works from the time of Paul Hermann, who first described it in 1687, to

the present. I mean the _kiri-anguna_ (Gymnema lactiferum), evidently a

form of the G. sylvestre, to which has been given the name of the

_Ceylon cow-tree_; and it is asserted that the natives drink its juice

as we do milk. LOUDON (_Ency. of Plants_, p. 197) says, "The milk of the

_G. lactiferum_ is used instead of the vaccine ichor, and the leaves are

employed in sauces in the room of cream." And LINDLEY, in his _Vegetable

Kingdom_, in speaking of the Asclepiads, says, "the cow plant of Ceylon,

'kiri-anguna,' yields a milk of which the Singhalese make use for food;

and its leaves are also used when boiled." Even in the _English

Cyclopædia_ of CHARLES KNIGHT, published so lately as 1854, this error

is repeated. (See art. Cow-tree, p. 178.) But this in altogether a

mistake;--the Ceylon plant, like many others, has acquired its epithet

of _kiri_, not from the juices being susceptible of being used as a

substitute for milk, but simply from its resemblance to it in colour and

consistency. It is a creeper, found on the southern and western coasts,

and used medicinally by the natives, but never as an article of food.

The leaves, when chopped and boiled, are administered to nurses by

native practitioners, and are supposed to increase the secretion of

milk. As to its use, as stated by London, in lieu of the vaccine matter,

it is altogether erroneous. MOON, in his _Catalogue of the Plants of

Ceylon_, has accidentally mentioned the kiri-anguna twice, being misled

by the Pali synonym "kiri-hangula": they are the same plant, though he

has inserted them as different, p. 21.]

But that which arrests the attention even of an indifferent passer-by is

the endless variety and almost inconceivable size and luxuriance of the

_climbing plants and epiphytes_ which live upon the forest trees in

every part of the island. It is rare to see a single tree without its

families of dependents of this description, and on one occasion I

counted on a single prostrate stem no less than sixteen species of

Capparis, Beaumontia, Bignonia, Ipomoea, and other genera, which, in its

fall, it had brought along with it to the ground. Those which are free

from climbing plants have their higher branches and hollows occupied by

ferns and orchids, of which latter the variety is endless in Ceylon,

though the beauty of their flower is not equal to those of Brazil and

other tropical countries. In the many excursions which I made with Dr.

Gardner he added numerous species to those already known, including the

exquisite _Saccolabium guttatum_, which we came upon in the vicinity of

Bintenne, but which had before been discovered in Java and the mountains

of northern India. Its large groups of lilac flowers hung in rich

festoons from the branches as we rode under them, and caused us many an

involuntary halt to admire and secure the plants.

A rich harvest of botanical discovery still remains for the scientific

explorer of the districts south and east of Adam's Peak, whence Dr.

Gardner's successor, Mr. Thwaites, has already brought some remarkable

species. Many of the Ceylon orchids, like those of South America,

exhibit a grotesque similitude to various animals; and one, a

_Dendrobium_., which the Singhalese cultivate in the palms near their

dwelling, bears a name equivalent to the _White-pigeon flower,_ from the

resemblance which its clusters present to a group of those birds in

miniature clinging to the stem with wings at rest.

But of this order the most exquisite plant I have seen is the

_Anæctochilus setaceus_, a terrestrial orchid which is to be found about

the moist roots of the forest trees, and has drawn the attention of even

the apathetic Singhalese, among whom its singular beauty has won for it

the popular name of the Wanna Raja, or "King of the Forest." It is

common in humid and shady places a few miles removed from the sea-coast;

its flowers have no particular attraction, but its leaves are perhaps

the most exquisitely formed in the vegetable kingdom; their colour

resembles dark velvet, approaching to black, and reticulated over all

the surface with veins of ruddy gold.[1]

[Footnote 1: There is another small orchid bearing a slight resemblance

to the wanna raja, which is often found growing along with it, called by

the Singhalese iri raja, or "striped king." Its leaves are somewhat

bronzed, but they are longer and narrower than those of the wanna raja;

and, as its Singhalese name implies, it has two white stripes running

through the length of each. They are not of the same genus; the wanna

raja being the only species of _Anæctochilus_ yet found in Ceylon.]

The branches of all the lower trees and brushwood are so densely covered

with convolvuli, and similar delicate climbers of every colour, that

frequently it is difficult to discover the tree which supports them,

owing to the heaps of verdure under which it is concealed. One very

curious creeper, which always catches the eye, is the square-stemmed

vine[1], whose fleshy four-sided runners climb the highest trees, and

hang down in the most fantastic bunches. Its stem, like that of another

plant of the same genus (the _Vitis Indica_), when freshly cut, yields a

copious draught of pure tasteless fluid, and is eagerly sought after by

elephants.

[Footnote 1: Cissus edulis, _Dalz_.]

But it is the trees of older and loftier growth that exhibit the rank

luxuriance of these wonderful epiphytes in the most striking manner.

They are tormented by climbing plants of such extraordinary dimensions

that many of them exceed in diameter the girth of a man; and these

gigantic appendages are to be seen surmounting the tallest trees of the

forest, grasping their stems in firm convolutions, and then flinging

their monstrous tendrils over the larger limbs till they reach the top,

whence they descend to the ground in huge festoons, and, after including

another and another tree in their successive toils, they once more

ascend to the summit, and wind the whole into a maze of living network

as massy as if formed by the cable of a line-of-battle ship. When,

by-and-by, the trees on which this singular fabric has become suspended

give way under its weight, or sink by their own decay, the fallen trunk

speedily disappears, whilst the convolutions of climbers continue to

grow on, exhibiting one of the most marvellous and peculiar living

mounds of confusion that it is possible to fancy. Frequently one of

these creepers may be seen holding by one extremity the summit of a tall

tree, and grasping with the other an object at some distance near the

earth, between which it is strained as tight and straight as if hauled

over a block. In all probability the young tendril had been originally

fixed in this position by the wind, and retained in it till it had

gained its maturity, where it has the appearance of having been

artificially arranged as if to support a falling tree.

This peculiarity of tropical vegetation has been turned to profitable

account by the Ceylon woodmen, employed by the European planters in

felling forest trees, preparatory to the cultivation of coffee. In this

craft they are singularly expert, and far surpass the Malabar coolies,

who assist in the same operations. In steep and mountainous places where

the trees have been thus lashed together by the interlacing climbers,

the practice is to cut halfway through each stem in succession, till an

area of some acres in extent is prepared for the final overthrow. Then

severing some tall group on the eminence, and allowing it in its descent

to precipitate itself on those below, the whole expanse is in one moment

brought headlong to the ground; the falling timber forcing down those

beneath it by its weight, and dragging those behind to which it is

harnessed by its living attachments. The crash occasioned by this

startling operation is so deafeningly loud, that it is audible for two

or three miles in the clear and still atmosphere of the hills.

One monstrous creeping plant called by the Kandyans the Maha-pus-wael,

or "Great hollow climber,"[1] has pods, some of which I have seen fully

five feet long and six inches broad, with beautiful brown beans, so

large that the natives hollow them out, and carry them as tinder-boxes.

[Footnote 1: _Entada pursætha_. The same plant, when found in lower

situations, where it wants the soil and moisture of the mountains, is so

altered in appearance that the natives call it the "heen-pus-wael;" and

even botanists have taken it for a distinct species. The beautiful

mountain region of Pusilawa, now familiar as one of the finest coffee

districts in Ceylon, in all probability takes its name from the giant

bean, "Pus-waelawa."]

Another climber of less dimensions[1], but greater luxuriance, haunts

the jungle, and often reaches the tops of the highest trees, whence it

suspends large bunches of its yellow flowers, and eventually produces

clusters of prickly pods containing greyish-coloured seeds, less than an

inch in diameter, which are so strongly coated with silex, that they are

said to strike fire like a flint.

[Footnote 1: Guilandina Bonduc.]

One other curious climber is remarkable for the vigour and vitality of

its vegetation, a faculty in which it equals, if it do not surpass, the

banyan. This is the _Cocculus cordifolius_, the "rasa-kindu" of the

Singhalese, a medicinal plant which produces the _guluncha_ of Bengal.

It is largely cultivated in Ceylon, and when it has acquired the

diameter of half an inch, it is not unusual for the natives to cut from

the main stem a portion of from twenty to thirty feet in length, leaving

the dissevered plant suspended from the branches of the tree which

sustained it. The amputation naturally serves for a time to check its

growth, but presently small rootlets, not thicker than a pack-thread,

are seen shooting downwards from the wounded end; these swing in the

wind till, reaching the ground, they attach themselves in the soil, and

form new stems, which in turn, when sufficiently grown, are cut away and

replaced by a subsequent growth. Such is its tenacity of life, that when

the Singhalese wish to grow the _rasa-kindu_, they twist several yards

of the stem into a coil of six or eight inches in diameter, and simply

hang it on the branch of a tree, where it speedily puts forth its large

heart-shaped leaves, and sends down its rootlets to the earth.

The ground too has its creepers, and some of them very curious. The most

remarkable are the ratans, belonging to the Calamus genus of palms. Of

these I have seen a specimen 250 feet long and an inch in diameter,

without a single irregularity, and no appearance of foliage other than

the bunch of feathery leaves at the extremity.

The strength of these slender plants is so extreme, that the natives

employ them with striking success in the formation of bridges across the

water-courses and ravines. One which crossed the falls of the

Mahawelliganga, in the Kotmahe range of hills, was constructed with the

scientific precision of an engineer's work. It was entirely composed of

the plant, called by the natives the "Waywel," its extremities fastened

to living trees, on the opposite sides of the ravine through which a

furious and otherwise impassable mountain torrent thundered and fell

from rock to rock with a descent of nearly 100 feet. The flooring of

this aerial bridge consisted of short splints of wood, laid

transversely, and bound in their places by thin strips of the waywel

itself. The whole structure vibrated and swayed with fearful ease, but

the coolies traversed it though heavily laden; and the European, between

whose estate and the high road it lay, rode over it daily without

dismounting.

Another class of trees which excites the astonishment of an European,

are those whose stems are protected, as high as cattle can reach, by

thorns, which in the jungle attain a growth and size quite surprising.

One species of palm[1], the _Caryota horrida,_ often rises to a height

of fifty feet, and has a coating of thorns for about six or eight feet

from the ground, each about an inch in length, and so densely covering

the stem that the bark is barely visible.

[Footnote 1: This palm I have called a _Caryota_ on the authority of Dr.

GARDNER, and of MOON'S _Catalogue_; but I have been informed by Dr.

HOOKER and Mr. THWAITES that it is an _Areca_. The natives identify it

with the Caryota, and call it the "katu-kittul."]

A climbing plant, the "Kudu-miris" of the Singhalese[1], very common in

the hill jungles, with a diameter of three or four inches, is thickly

studded with knobs about half an inch high, and from the extremity of

each a thorn protrudes, as large and sharp as the bill of a

sparrow-hawk. It has been the custom of the Singhalese from time

immemorial, to employ the thorny trees of their forests in the

construction of defences against their enemies. The _Mahawanso_ relates,

that in the civil wars, in the reign of Prakrama-bahu in the twelfth

century, the inhabitants of the southern portion of the island

intrenched themselves against his forces behind moats filled with

thorns.[2] And at an earlier period, during the contest of Dutugaimunu

with Elala, the same authority states, that a town which he was about to

attack was "surrounded on all sides by the thorny _Dadambo creeper_

(probably Toddalia aculeata), within which was a triple hue of

fortifications, with one gate of difficult access."[3]

[Footnote 1: Toddalia aculeata.]

[Footnote 2: _Mahawanso_ ch. lxxiv.]

[Footnote 3: _Mahawanso_ ch. xxv.]

During the existence of the Kandyan kingdom as an independent state,

before its conquest by the British, the frontier forests were so

thickened and defended by dense plantations of these thorny palms and

climbers at different points, as to exhibit a natural fortification

impregnable to the feeble tribes on the other side, and at each pass

which led to the level country, movable gates, formed of the same

formidable thorny beams, were suspended as an ample security against the

incursions of the naked and timid lowlanders.[1]

[Footnote 1: The kings of Kandy maintained a regulation "that no one; on

pain of death, should presume to cut a road through the forest wider

than was sufficient for one person to pass."--WOLF'S _Life and

Adventures_, p. 308.]

The pasture grounds throughout the vicinity of Jaffna abound in a low

shrub called the Buffalo-thorn[1], the black twigs of which are beset at

every joint by a pair of thorns, set opposite each other like the horns

of an ox, as sharp as a needle, from two to three inches in length, and

thicker at the base than the stem they grow on.

[Footnote 1: _Acacia latronum._]

The _Acacia tomentosa_ is of the same genus, with thorns so large as to

be called the "_jungle-nail_" by Europeans. It is frequent in the woods

of Jaffna and Manaar, where it bears the Tamil name of _Aani mulla_, or

"elephant thorn." In some of these thorny plants, as in the _Phoberos

Goertneri, Thun._,[1] the spines grow not singly, but in branching

clusters, each point presenting a spike as sharp as a lancet; and where

these formidable shrubs abound they render the forest absolutely

impassable, even to the elephant and to animals of great size and force.

[Footnote 1: Mr. Wm. Ferguson writes to me, "This is the famous

_Katu-kurundu_, or 'thoray cinnamon,' of the Singhalese, figured and

described by Gaertner as the _Limonia pusilla_, which after a great deal

of labour and research I think I have identified as the _Phoberos

macrophyllus_" (W. and A. Prod. p. 30). Thunberg alludes to it

(_Travels_, vol. iv.)--"Why the Singhalese have called it a cinnamon, I

do not know, unless from some fancied similarity in its seeds to those

of the cinnamon laurel."]

The family of trees which, from their singularity as well as their

beauty, most attract the eye of the traveller in the forests of Ceylon,

are the palms, which occur in rich profusion, although, of upwards of

six hundred species which are found in other countries, not more than

ten or twelve are indigenous to the island.[1] At the head of these is

the coco-nut, every particle of whose substance, stem, leaves, and

fruit, the Singhalese turn to so many accounts, that one of their

favourite topics to a stranger is to enumerate the _hundred_ uses to

which they tell us this invaluable tree is applied.[2]

[Footnote 1: Mr. Thwaites has enumerated fifteen species (including the

coco-nut, and excluding the _Nipa fruticans_, which more properly

belongs to the family of screw-pines): viz. Areca, 4; Caryota, 1;

Calamus, 5; Borassus, 1; Corypha, 1; Phoenix, 2; Cocos, 1.]

[Footnote 2: The following are only a few of the countless uses of this

invaluable tree. The _leaves_, for roofing, for mats, for baskets,

torches or chules, fuel, brooms, fodder for cattle, manure. The _stem of

the leaf_, for fences, for pingoes (or yokes) for carrying burthens on

the shoulders, for fishing-rods, and innumerable domestic utensils. The

_cabbage_ or cluster of unexpended leaves, for pickles and preserves.

The _sap_ for _toddy_, for distilling arrack, and for making vinegar,

and sugar. The _unformed nut_, for medicine and sweetmeats. The _young

nut_ and its milk, for drinking, for dessert; the _green husk_ for

preserves. The _nut_, for eating, for curry, for milk, for cooking. The

_oil_, for rheumatism, for anointing the hair, for soap, for candles,

for light; and the _poonak_, or refuse of the nut after expressing the

oil, for cattle and poultry. The _shell of the nut_, for drinking cups,

charcoal, tooth-powder, spoons, medicine, hookahs, beads, bottles, and

knife-handles. The _coir_, or fibre which envelopes the shell within the

outer husk, for mattresses, cushions, ropes, cables, cordage, canvass,

fishing-nets, fuel, brushes, oakum, and floor mats. The _trunk_, for

rafters, laths, railing, boats, troughs, furniture, firewood; and when

very young, the first shoots, or cabbage, as a vegetable for the table.

The entire list, with a Singhalese enthusiast, is an interminable

narration of the virtues of his favourite tree.]

The most majestic and wonderful of the palm tribe is the _talpat_ or

_talipat_[1], the stem of which sometimes attains the height of 100

feet, and each of its enormous fan-like leaves, when laid upon the

ground, will form a semicircle of 16 feet in diameter, and cover an area

of nearly 200 superficial feet. The tree flowers but once, and dies; and

the natives firmly believe that the bursting of the shadix is

accompanied by a loud explosion. The leaves alone are converted by the

Singhalese to purposes of utility. Of them they form coverings for their

houses, and portable tents of a rude but effective character; and on

occasions of ceremony, each chief and headman on walking abroad is

attended by a follower, who holds above his head an

elaborately-ornamented fan, formed from a single leaf of the talpat.

[Footnote 1: Corypha umbraculifera, _Linn._]

But the most interesting use to which they are applied is as substitutes

for paper, both for books and for ordinary purposes. In the preparation

of _olas_, which is the term applied to them when so employed, the

leaves are taken whilst still tender, and, after separating the central

ribs, they are cut into strips and boiled in spring water. They are

dried first in the shade, and afterwards in the sun, then made into

rolls, and kept in store, or sent to the market for sale. Before they

are fit for writing on they are subjected to a second process, called

_madema_. A smooth plank of areca-palm is tied horizontally between two

trees, each ola is then damped, and a weight being attached to one end

of it, it is drawn backwards and forwards across the edge of the wood

till the surface becomes perfectly smooth and polished; and during the

process, as the moisture dries up, it is necessary to renew it till the

effect is complete. The smoothing of a single ola will occupy from

fifteen to twenty minutes.[1]

[Footnote 1: See Vol. II. p. 528.]

The finest specimens in Ceylon are to be obtained at the Panselas, or

Buddhist monasteries; they are known as _pusk[(o]la_ and are prepared by

the Samanera priests (novices) and the students, under the

superintendence of the priests.

The raw leaves, when dried without any preparation, are called

_karak[(o]la_, and, like the leaves of the palmyra, are used only for

ordinary purposes by the Singhalese; but in the Tamil districts, where

palmyras are abundant, and talpat palms rare, the leaves of the former

are used for books as well as for letters.

The _palmyra_[1] is another invaluable palm, and one of the most

beautiful of the family. It grows in such profusion over the north of

Ceylon, and especially in the peninsula of Jaffna, as to form extensive

forests, whence its timber is exported for rafters to all parts of the

island, as well as to the opposite coast of India, where, though the

palmyra grows luxuriantly, its wood, from local causes, is too soft and

perishable to be used for any purpose requiring strength and durability,

qualities which, in the palmyra of Ceylon, are pre-eminent. To the

inhabitants of the northern provinces this invaluable tree is of the

same importance as the coco-nut palm is to the natives of the south. Its

fruit yields them food and oil; its juice "palm wine" and sugar; its

stem is the chief material of their buildings; and its leaves, besides

serving as roofs to their dwellings and fences to their farms, supply

them with matting and baskets, with head-dresses and fans, and serve as

a substitute for paper for their deeds and writings, and for the sacred

books, which contain the traditions of their faith. It has been said

with truth that a native of Jaffna, if he be contented with ordinary

doors and mud walls, may build an entire house (as he wants neither

nails nor iron work), with walls, roof, and covering from the Palmyra

palm. From this same tree he may draw his wine, make his oil, kindle his

fire, carry his water, store his food, cook his repast, and sweeten it,

if he pleases; in fact, live from day to day dependent on his palmyra

alone. Multitudes so live, and it may be safely asserted that this tree

alone furnishes one-fourth the means of sustenance for the population of

the northern provinces.

[Footnote 1: _Borassus flabelliformis_. For an account of the Palmyra,

and its cultivation in the peninsula of Jaffna, see FERGUSON'S monograph

on the _Palmyra Palm of Ceylon_, Colombo, 1850.]

The _Jaggery Palm_[1], the _Kitool_ of the Singhalese, is chiefly

cultivated in the Kandyan hills for the sake of its sap, which is drawn,

boiled down, and crystallised into a coarse brown sugar, in universal

use amongst the inhabitants of the south and west of Ceylon, who also

extract from its pith a farina scarcely inferior to sago. The black

fibre of the leaf is twisted by the Rodiyas into ropes of considerable

smoothness and tenacity. A single Kitool tree has been pointed out at

Ambogammoa, which furnished the support of a Kandyan, his wife, and

their children. A tree has been known to yield one hundred pints of

toddy within twenty-four hours.

[Footnote 1: Caryota urens.]

The _Areca_[1] _Palm_ is the invariable feature of a native garden,

being planted near the wells and water-courses, as it rejoices in

moisture. Of all the tribe it is the most graceful and delicate, rising

to the height of forty or fifty feet[2], without an inequality on its

thin polished stem, which is dark green towards the top, and sustains a

crown of feathery foliage, in the midst of which are clustered the

astringent nuts for whose sake it is carefully tended.

[Footnote 1: A. catechu.]

[Footnote 2: Mr. Ferguson measured an areca at Caltura which was

seventy-five feet high, and grew near a coco-nut which was upwards of

ninety feet. Caltura is, however, remarkable for the growth and

luxuriance of its vegetation.]

The chewing of these nuts with lime and the leaf of the betel-pepper

supplies to the people of Ceylon the same enjoyment which tobacco

affords to the inhabitants of other countries; but its use is, if

possible, more offensive, as the three articles, when combined, colour

the saliva of so deep a red that the lips and teeth appear as if covered

with blood. Yet, in spite of this disgusting accompaniment, men and

women, old and young, from morning till night indulge in the repulsive

luxury.[1]

[Footnote 1: Dr. Elliot, of Colombo, has observed several cases of

cancer in the cheek which, from its peculiar characteristics, he has

designated the "betel-chewer's cancer."]

It is seldom, however, that we find in semi-civilised life habits

universally prevailing which have not their origin, however ultimately

they may be abused by excess, in some sense of utility. The Turk, when

he adds to the oppressive warmth of the sun by enveloping his forehead

in a cumbrous turban, or the Arab, when he increases the sultry heat by

swathing his waist in a showy girdle, may appear to act on no other

calculation than a willingness to sacrifice comfort to a love of

display; but the custom in each instance is the result of precaution--in

the former, because the head requires especial protection from

sun-strokes; and in the latter, from the fact well known to the Greeks

([Greek: eozônoi Achaioi]) that, in a warm climate, danger is to be

apprehended from a sudden chill to that particular region of the

stomach. In like manner, in the chewing of the areca-nut with its

accompaniments of lime and betel, the native of Ceylon is unconsciously

applying a specific corrective to the defective qualities of his daily

food. Never eating flesh meat by any chance, seldom or never using milk,

butter, poultry, or eggs, and tasting fish but occasionally (more rarely

in the interior of the island,) the non-azotised elements abound in

every article he consumes with the exception of the bread-fruit, the

jak, and some varieties of beans. In their indolent and feeble stomachs

these are liable to degenerate into flatulent and acrid products; but,

apparently by instinct, the whole population have adopted a simple

prophylactic. Every Singhalese carries in his waistcloth an ornamented

box of silver or brass, according to his means, enclosing a smaller one

to hold a portion of chunam (lime obtained by the calcination of shells)

whilst the larger contains the nuts of the areca and a few fresh leaves

of the betel-pepper. As inclination or habit impels, he scrapes down the

nut, which abounds in catechu, and, rolling it up with a little of the

lime in a betel-leaf, the whole is chewed, and finally swallowed, after

provoking an extreme salivation. No medical prescription could be more

judiciously compounded to effect the desired object than this practical

combination of antacid, the tonic, and carminative.

The custom is so ancient in Ceylon and in India that the Arabs and

Persians who resorted to Hindustan in the eighth and ninth centuries

carried back the habit to their own country; and Massoudi, the traveller

of Bagdad, who wrote the account of his voyages in A.D. 943, states that

the chewing of betel prevailed along the southern coast of Arabia, and

reached as far as Yemen and Mecca.[1] Ibn Batuta saw the betel plant at

Zahfar A.D. 1332, and describes it accurately as trained like a vine

over a trellis of reeds, or climbing the steins of the coco-nut palm.[2]

[Footnote 1: Massoudi, _Maraudj-al-Dzeheb_, as translated by REINAUD,

_Mémoire_ _sur l'Lede_. p. 230.]

[Footnote 2: _Voyages_, &c. t. ii. p. 205.]

The leaves of the coca[1] supply the Indians of Bolivia and Peru with a

stimulant, whose use is equivalent to that of the betel-pepper among the

natives of Hindustan and the Eastern Archipelago. With an admixture of

lime, they are chewed perseveringly; but, unlike the betel, the colour

imparted by them to the saliva is greenish, instead of red. It is

curious, too, as a coincidence common to the humblest phases of

semi-civilised life, that, in the absence of coined money, the leaves of

the coca form a rude kind of currency in the Andes, as does the betel in

some parts of Ceylon, and tobacco amongst the tribes of the south-west

of Africa.[2]

[Footnote 1: Erythroxylon coca.]

[Footnote 2: Tobacco was a currency in North America when Virginia was

colonised in the early part of the 17th century; debts were contracted

and paid in it, and in every ordinary transaction tobacco answered the

purposes of coin.]

Neither catechu nor its impure equivalent, "terra japonica," is prepared

from the areca in Ceylon; but the nuts are exported in large quantities

to the Maldive Islands and to India, the produce of which they excel

both in astringency and size. The fibrous wood of the areca being at

once straight, firm, and elastic, is employed for making the pingoes

(yokes for the shoulders), by means of which the Singhalese coolie, like

the corresponding class among the ancient Egyptians and the Greeks,

carries his burdens, dividing them into portions of equal weight, one of

which is suspended from each end of the pingo. By a swaying motion

communicated to them as he starts, his own movement is facilitated,

whereas one unaccustomed to the work, by allowing the oscillation to

become irregular, finds it almost impossible to proceed with a load of

any considerable weight.[1]

[Footnote 1: The natives of Tahti use a yoke of the same form as the

Singhalese _pingo_, but made from the wood of the _Hibiscus

tiliaceus._--DARWIN, _Nat. Voy._ ch. xviii. p. 407. For a further

account of the pingo see Vol. I. Part iv. ch. viii. p. 497.]

_Timber trees_, either for export or domestic use, are not found in any

abundance except in the low country, and here the facility of floating

them to the sea, down the streams which intersect the eastern coast of

the island, has given rise to an active trade at Batticaloa and

Trincomalie. But, unfortunately, the indifference of the local officers

entrusted with the issue of licences to fell, and the imperfect control

exercised over the adventurers who embark in these speculations, has led

to a destruction of trees quite disproportionate to the timber obtained,

and utterly incompatible with the conservation of the valuable kinds.

The East India Company have had occasion to deplore the loss of their

teak forests by similar neglect and mismanagement; and it is to be hoped

that, ere too late, the attention of the Ceylon Government may be so

directed to this important subject as to lead to the appointment of

competent foresters, under whose authority and superintendence the

felling of timber may be carried on.

An interesting memoir on the timber trees of Ceylon has been prepared by

a native officer at Colombo, Adrian Mendis, of Morottu,

carpeater-moodliar to the Royal Engineers, in which he has enumerated

upwards of ninety species, which, in various parts of the island, are

employed either as timber or cabinet woods.[1] Of these, the jak, the

Kangtal of Bengal (_Artocarpus integrifolia_), is, next to the coco-nut

and Palmyra, by far the most valuable to the Singhalese; its fruit,

which sometimes attains the weight of 50 lbs., supplying food for their

table, its leaves fodder for their cattle, and its trunk timber for

every conceivable purpose both oeconomic and ornamental. The Jak tree,

as well as the Del, or wild bread-fruit, is indigenous to the forests on

the coast and in the central provinces; but, although the latter is

found in the vicinity of the villages, it does not appear to be an

object of special cultivation. The Jak, on the contrary, is planted near

every house, and forms the shade of every garden. Its wood, at first

yellow, approaches the colour of mahogany after a little exposure to the

air, and resembles it at all times in its grain and marking.

[Footnote 1: Mendis' List will be found appended to the _Ceylon

Calendar_ for 1854.]

The Del (_Artocarpus pubescens_) affords a valuable timber, not only for

architectural purposes, but for ship-building. It and the Halmalille[1]

resembling but larger than the linden tree of England, to which it is

closely allied, are the favourite building woods of the natives, and the

latter is used for carts, casks, and all household purposes, as well as

for the hulls of their boats, from the belief that It resists the attack

of the marine worms, and that some unctuous property in the wood

preserves the iron work from rust.[2]

[Footnote 1: Berry a ammonilla.]

[Footnote 2: The Masula boats, which brave the formidable surf of Madrus

are made of Halmalille, which is there called "Trincomalie wood" from

the place of exportation.]

The Teak (_Tectona grandis_), which is superior to all others, is not a

native of this island, and although largely planted, has not been

altogether successful. But the satin-wood[1], in point of size and

durability, is by far the first of the timber trees of Ceylon. For days

together I have ridden under its magnificent shade. All the forests

around Batticaloa and Trincomalie, and as far north as Jaffna, are

thickly set with this valuable tree. It grows to the height of a hundred

feet, with a rugged grey bark, small white flowers, and polished leaves,

with a somewhat unpleasant odour. Owing to the difficulty of carrying

its heavy beams, the natives only cut it near the banks of the rivers,

down which it is floated to the coast, whence large quantities are

exported to every part of the colony. The richly-coloured and feathery

pieces are used for cabinet-work, and the more ordinary logs for

building purposes, every house in the eastern province being floored and

timbered with satin-wood.

[Footnote 1: Chieroxylon Swietenia.]

Another useful tree, very common in Ceylon, is the Suria[1], with

flowers so like those of a tulip that Europeans know it as the tulip

tree. It loves the sea air and saline soils. It is planted all along the

avenues and streets in the towns near the coast, where it is equally

valued for its shade and the beauty of its yellow flowers, whilst its

tough wood is used for carriage shafts and gun-stocks.

[Footnote 1: Thespesia populnea.]

The forests to the east furnish the only valuable cabinet woods used in

Ceylon, the chief of which is ebony[1], which grows in great abundance

throughout all the flat country to the west of Trincomalie. It is a

different species from the ebony of Mauritius[2], and excels it and all

others in the evenness and intensity of its colour. The centre of the

trunk is the only portion which furnishes the extremely black part which

is the ebony of commerce; but the trees are of such magnitude that

reduced logs of two feet in diameter, and varying from ten to fifteen

feet in length, can readily be procured from the forests at Trincomalie.

[Footnote 1: Diospyros ebenum.]

[Footnote 2: D. reticulata.]

There is another cabinet wood, of extreme beauty, called by the natives

Cadooberia. It is a bastard species of ebony[1], in which the prevailing

black is stained with stripes of rich brown, approaching to yellow and

pink. But its density is inconsiderable, and in durability it is far

inferior to that of true ebony.

[Footnote 1: D. ebenaster.]

The Calamander[1], the most valuable cabinet wood of the island,

resembling rose-wood, but much surpassing it both in beauty and

durability, has at all times been in the greatest repute in Ceylon. It

grows chiefly in the southern provinces, and especially in the forests

at the foot of Adam's Peak; but here it has been so prodigally felled,

first by the Dutch, and afterwards by the English, without any

precautions for planting or production, that it has at last become

exceedingly rare. Wood of a large scantling is hardly procurable at any

price; and it is only in a very few localities, the principal of which

is Saffragam, in the western province, that even small sticks are now to

be found; one reason, assigned for this is that the heart of the tree is

seldom sound, a peculiarity which extends to the Cadooberia.

[Footnote 1: D. hirsuta.]

The twisted portions, and especially the roots of the latter, yield

veneers of unusual beauty, dark wavings and blotches, almost black,

being gracefully disposed over a delicate fawn-coloured ground. Its

density is so great (nearly 60 lbs. to a cubic foot) that it takes an

exquisite polish, and is in every way adapted for the manufacture of

furniture, in the ornamenting of which the native carpenters excel. The

chiefs and headmen, with a full appreciation of its beauty, take

particular pride in possessing specimens of this beautiful wood, roots

of which they regard as most acceptable gifts.

Notwithstanding its value, the tree is nearly eradicated, and runs some

risk of becoming extinct in the island; but, as it is not peculiar to

Ceylon, it may be restored by fresh importations from the south-eastern

coast of India, of which it is equally a native, and I apprehend that

the name, _Calamander_, which was used by the Dutch, is but a corruption

of "Coromandel."

Another species of cabinet wood is produced from the Nedun[1], a large

tree common on the western coast; it belongs to the Pea tribe, and is

allied to the Sisso of India. Its wood, which is lighter than the

"Blackwood" of Bombay, is used for similar purposes.

[Footnote 1: Dalbergia lanceolaria.]

The Tamarind tree[1], and especially its fine roots, produce a

variegated cabinet wood of much beauty, but of such extreme hardness as

scarcely to be workable by any ordinary tool.[2]

[Footnote 1: Tamarindus Indica.]

[Footnote 2: The natives of Western India have a belief that the shade

of the tamarind tree is unhealthy, if not poisonous. But in Ceylon it is

an object of the people, especially in the north of the island, to build

their houses under it, from the conviction that of all trees its _shade

is the coolest_. In this feeling, too, the Europeans are so far disposed

to concur that it has been suggested whether there may not be something

peculiar in the respiration of its leaves. The Singhalese have an idea

that the twigs of the ranna-wara (_Cassia auriculata_) diffuse an

agreeable coolness, and they pull them for the sake of enjoying it by

holding them in their hands or applied to the head. In the south of

Ceylon it is called the Matura tea-tree, its leaves being infused as a

substitute for tea.]

As to fruit trees, it is only on the coast, or near the large villages

and towns, that they are found in any perfection. In the deepest jungle

the sight of a single coco-nut towering above the other foliage is in

Ceylon a never-failing landmark to intimate to a traveller his approach

to a village. The natives have a superstition that the coco-nut will not

grow _out of the sound of the human voice_, and will die if the village

where it had previously thriven become deserted; the solution of the

mystery being in all probability the superior care and manuring which it

receives in such localities.[1] In the generality of the forest hamlets

there are always to be found a few venerable Tamarind trees of

patriarchal proportions, the ubiquitous Jak, with its huge fruits,

weighing from 5 to 50 lbs. (the largest eatable fruit in the world),

each springing from the rugged surface of the bark, and suspended by a

powerful stalk, which attaches it to the trunk of the tree. Lime-trees,

Oranges, and Shaddoks are carefully cultivated in these little gardens,

and occasionally the Rose-apple and the Cachu-nut, the Pappaya, and

invariably as plentiful a supply of Plantains as they find it prudent to

raise without inviting the visits of the wild elephants, with whom they

are especial favourites.

[Footnote 1: See Vol. II. p. 125.]

These, and the Bilimbi and Guava, the latter of which is naturalised in

the jungle around every cottage, are almost the only fruits of the

country; but the Pine-apple, the Mango, the Avocado-pear, the

Custard-apple, the Rambutan (_Nephelium lappaceum_), the Fig, the

Granadilla, and a number of other exotics, are successfully reared in

the gardens of the wealthier inhabitants of the towns and villages; and

within the last few years the peerless Mangustin of Malacca, the

delicacy of which we can imagine to resemble that of perfumed snow, has

been successfully cultivated in the gardens of Caltura and Colombo.

With the exception of the orange, the fruits of Ceylon have one

deficiency, common, I apprehend, to all tropical countries. They are

wanting in that piquancy which in northern climates is attributable to

the exquisite perfection in which the sweet and aromatic flavours are

blended with the acidulous. Either the acid is so ascendant as to be

repulsive to the European palate, or the saccharine so preponderates as

to render Singhalese fruit cloying and distasteful.

Still, all other defects are compensated by the coolness which pervades

them; and, under the exhaustion of a blazing sun, no more exquisite

physical enjoyment can be imagined than the chill and fragrant flesh of

the pine-apple, or the abundant juice of the mango, which, when freshly

pulled, feels as cool as iced water. But the fruit must be eaten

instantly; even an interval of a few minutes after it has been gathered

is sufficient to destroy the charm; for, once severed from the stem, it

rapidly acquires the temperature of the surrounding air.

Sufficient admiration has hardly been bestowed upon the marvellous power

displayed by the vegetable world in adjusting its own temperature,

notwithstanding atmospheric fluctuations,--a faculty in the

manifestation of which it appears to present a counterpart to that

exhibited by animal oeconomy in regulating its heat. So uniform is the

exercise of the latter faculty in man and the higher animals, that there

is barely a difference of three degrees between the warmth of the body

in the utmost endurable vicissitudes of heat and cold; and in vegetables

an equivalent arrangement enables them in winter to keep their

temperature somewhat above that of the surrounding air, and in summer to

reduce it far below it. It would almost seem as if plants possessed a

power of producing cold analogous to that exhibited by animals in

producing heat; and of this beneficent arrangement man enjoys the

benefit in the luxurious coolness of the fruit which nature lavishes on

the tropics.

The peculiar organisation by which this result is obtained is not free

from obscurity, but in all probability the means of adjusting the

temperature of plants is simply dependent on evaporation. As regards the

power possessed by vegetables of generating heat, although it has been

demonstrated to exist, it is in so trifling a degree as to be almost

inappreciable, except at the period of germination, when it probably

arises from the consumption of oxygen in generating the carbonic acid

gas which is then evolved. The faculty of retaining this warmth at night

and at other times may, therefore, be referable mainly to the closing of

the pores, and the consequent check of evaporation.

On the other hand, the faculty of maintaining a temperature below that

of the surrounding air, can only be accounted for by referring it to the

mechanical process of imbibing a continuous supply of fresh moisture

from the soil, the active transpiration of which imparts coolness to

every portion of the tree and its fruit. It requires this combined

operation to produce the desired result; and the extent to which

evaporation can bring down the temperature of the moisture received by

absorption, may be inferred from the fact that Dr. Hooker, when in the

valley of the Ganges, found the fresh milky juice of the Mudar

(_calotropis_) to be but 72°, whilst the damp sand in the bed of the

river where it grew was from 90° to 104°.

Even in temperate climates this phenomenon is calculated to excite

admiration; but it is still more striking to find the like effect rather

increased than diminished in the tropics, where one would suppose that

the juices, especially of a small and delicate plant, before they could

be cooled by evaporation, would be liable to be heated by the blazing

sun.

A difficulty would also seem to present itself in the instance of fruit,

whose juices, having to undergo a chemical change, their circulation

would be conjectured to be slower; and in the instance of those with

hard skins, such as the pomegranate, or with a tough leathery coating,

like the mango, the evaporation might be imagined to be less than in

those of a soft and spongy texture. But all share alike in the general

coolness of the plant, so long as circulation supplies fluid for

evaporation; and the moment this resource is cut off by the separation

of the fruit from the tree, the supply of moisture failing, the process

of refrigeration is arrested, and the charm of agreeable freshness gone.

It only remains to notice the aquatic plants, which are found in greater

profusion in the northern and eastern provinces than in any other

districts of the island, owing to the innumerable tanks and neglected

watercourses which cover the whole surface of this once productive

province, but which now only harbour the alligator, or satisfy the

thirst of the deer and the elephant.

[Footnote 1: See on this subject LINDLEY'S _Introduction to Botany_,

vol. ii. book ii. ch. viii. p. 215.

CARPENTER, _Animal Physiology_, ch. ix. s. 407. CARPENTER'S _Vegetable

Physiology_, ch. xi. s. 407, Lond. 1848.]

The chief ornaments of these neglected sheets of water are the large red

and white Lotus[1], whose flowers may be seen from a great distance

reposing on their broad green leaves. In China and some parts of India

the black seeds of these plants, which are not unlike little acorns in

shape, are served at table in place of almonds, which they are said to

resemble, but with a superior delicacy of flavour. At some of the tanks

where the lotus grows in profusion in Ceylon, I tasted the seeds

enclosed in the torus of the flowers, and found them white and

delicately-flavoured, not unlike the small kernel of the pine cone of

the Apennines. This red lotus of the island appears to be the one that

Herodotus describes as abounding in the Nile in his time, but which is

now extinct; with a flower resembling a rose, and a fruit in shape like

a wasp's nest, and containing seeds of the size of an olive stone, and

of an agreeable flavour.[2] But it has clearly no identity with those

which he describes as the food of the Lotophagi of Africa, of the size

of the mastic[3], sweet as a date, and capable of being made into wine.

[Footnote 1: Nelumbium speciosum.]

[Footnote 2: Herodotus, b. ii. s. 92.]

[Footnote 3: The words are "[Greek: Esti megathos hoson te tês schinou]"

(Herod. b. iv. s. 177); and as [Greek: schinos] means also a _squill_ or

a _sea-onion_, the fruit above referred to, as the food of the

Lotophagi, must have been of infinitely larger size and in every way

different from the lotus of the Nile, described in the 2nd book, as well

as from the lotus in the East. Lindley records the conjecture that the

article referred to by Herodotus was the _nabk_, the berry of the

lote-bush (_Zizyphus lotus_), which the Arabs of Barbary still eat.

(_Vegetable Kingdom_, p. 582.)]

One species of the water lily, the _Nymphæa rubra_, with small red

flowers, and of great beauty, is common in the ponds near Jaffna and in

the Wanny; and I found in the fosse, near the fort of Moeletivoe, the

beautiful blue lotus, _N. stellata_, with lilac petals, approaching to

purple in the centre, which had not previously been supposed to be a

native of the island.

Another very interesting aquatic plant, which was discovered by Dr.

Gardner in the tanks north of Trincomalie, is the _Desmanthus natans_,

with highly sensitive leaves floating on the surface of the water. It is

borne aloft by masses of a spongy cellular substance, which occur at

intervals along its stem and branches, but the roots never touch the

bottom, absorbing nourishment whilst floating at liberty, and only found

in contact with the ground after the subsidence of water in the

tanks.[1]

[Footnote 1: A species of _Utricularia_, with yellow flowers (U.

stellaris), is a common water-plant in the still lakes near the fort of

Colombo, where an opportunity is afforded of observing the extraordinary

provision of nature for its reproduction. There are small appendages

attached to the roots, which become distended with air, and thus carry

the plant aloft to the surface, during the cool season. Here it floats

till the operation of flowering is over, when the vesicles burst, and by

its own weight it returns to the bottom of the lake to ripen its seeds

and deposit them in the soil; after which the air vessels again fill,

and again it re-ascends to undergo the same process of fecundation.]