Food of the People.--Rice Cultivation.--Vast Artificial
Lakes.--The Stone Tanks of Aden.--Parched Australia.--Coffee
Culture.--Severe Reverses among Planters.--Tea
Culture.--Cinchona Plantations.--Heavy Exportation of
Tea.--Cacao Culture.--A Coffee Plantation
described.--Domesticated Snakes.--The
Cinnamon-Tree.--Cinnamon Gardens a
Disappointment.--Picturesque Dwelling's.--Forest Lands.--The
Ceylon Jungle.--Native Cabinet Woods.--Night in a Tropical
Forest.--Rhododendrons.
The principal food of a nation is a most important factor, not only in
judging of its means of support, but also as regards the mental and
physical character of the people themselves. Rice has been the staple
product and support of Ceylon, as it has been of the population of
India and China, from time immemorial. There are to-day some eight
hundred thousand acres of land devoted to the raising of this cereal
upon the island; there should be twice that area devoted to the
purpose, to meet the imperative wants of the present population. The
unsuitability of the climate for ripening wheat is more than
compensated for by its prodigal yield of rice, producing two crops
annually, where water can be freely obtained. This grain is proven by
scientific experiment to contain more of the several essential
elements for support of the human body than any other which is grown.
As is well known, in cultivating rice, it requires to be flooded,
started in fact under water, after being first planted, and also to be
more than once submerged during its growth and ripening. To facilitate
the production of this nutritious grain, the great tanks already
referred to were originally built, in which to preserve, for
periodical use, the water which flows freely enough from the mountain
region during the rainy season, but when the dry period sets in, the
rivers become thread-like streams, fed only by a few inconsiderable
springs which exist in the hills. The oldest of these immense
reservoirs is believed to date back some centuries before Christ's
appearance upon earth, evincing by their construction a degree of
organized thrift and effective energy hardly equaled in our time.
The tanks not only saved the precious water from running to waste,
but, being tapped at suitable intervals, conducted it by sluiceways
and canals, distributing it to those localities where it was needed,
and at the exact time when it was wanted.
The chief article of native consumption should also be one of export
from a country so admirably adapted to its production. This is not now
the case; indeed, it is and has long been one of the principal imports
from India and elsewhere. It is estimated that every native adult who
can get it consumes a bushel of rice each month in the year. To the
Singhalese rice is what wheat is to the average American, namely, the
staff of life. To promote its cultivation, the English government
should repair the neglected tanks, great and small. There is evidence
sufficient to prove that Ceylon raised all she required of this staple
for home consumption when her agricultural masses could get the
necessary water. In some localities where the rain is plentiful, the
rice planter is dependent upon the natural supply; but in most parts
of the island its cultivation is not even attempted unless a certain
artificial supply of water is first secured by means of canals and
reservoirs, it being quite as necessary as the very seed itself. There
is one great advantage which the planters enjoy in Ceylon over most
other regions; that is, the abundance and cheapness of free labor
obtainable at any season of the year. Coolies by the thousand are
always ready to come hither from southern India at the harvest time.
As many come regularly as can get employment.
When the island was at the height of its prosperity, there were in its
various parts at least thirty tanks of enormous proportions, and about
seven hundred of all sizes. In the nineteenth century, we attain the
object of water preserves by building structures of granite, like the
Croton and Cochituate reservoirs of New York and Boston, not nearly so
large nor any more efficient than these of the time referred to. But
to do this we have all the appliances of powerful machinery and
labor-saving methods, while these Herculean results in Ceylon were
achieved by human hands alone. One system is the consummation of a
high state of civilization, and of well-paid skillful industry; the
other, like the enduring pyramids, was the outcome of a barbaric
period, and of forced manual labor. While examining one of the vast
embankments, built, like all others, partly of stone but mainly of
earth, to securely hold the artificial lake, the author was
accompanied by an intelligent native, who was a local official of the
government. It was natural to remark upon the achievement of so great
a work by primitive means. "Yes," said he, "every bushel of earth
which forms this broad embankment, extending for miles, was brought by
the single basketful from yonder mountain upon the heads of men and
women."
The remains of one of these capacious tanks which stimulated industry
and insured abundant crops in Ceylon so long ago is to be seen at
Kalawewa, near Dambula, already spoken of, and is known to have been
built fourteen centuries since. It was originally some forty miles in
circumference, covering seven square miles, with a depth of twenty
feet of water, and having an embankment of stone twelve miles long
laid in solid tiers, with the large blocks ingeniously secured
together. These tanks are found in a more or less ruinous condition
all over the island, but especially at the north, where they were more
required than in the southern portion. The conserving of water in
large quantities for agricultural and other necessary purposes was
naturally one of the earliest developed ideas of civilized people.
Aden, the important peninsula commanding the entrance of the Red Sea,
now held and fortified by England, is situated in a rainless zone, so
that the inhabitants see no fall of that invaluable element sometimes
for two years together, though when it does visit them it comes in
floods. The dependence here for the needed supply in the dry season is
upon enormous tanks hewn out of the solid rocks with infinite labor,
and connected with each other by a well-devised system. These tanks,
being cut in the solid rock, as we have said, are virtually
indestructible, and form the means of supply for the inhabitants
to-day, as they did thousands of years ago. The great antiquity of the
Aden water reservoirs renders them intensely interesting, since they
are believed to be as old as the most ancient monuments in existence
raised by the hand of man,--not excepting those of Egypt.
In entering the harbor of Aden, one passes through the dangerous
Strait of Bab-el-Mandeb, so called by the Arabs, and signifying the
"Gate of Tears," because it has proved so fatal to human life and to
commerce. The author well remembers, when passing this famous point,
seeing the tall masts of a big European steamship still standing above
the water of the strait. A few days previously, the vessel had been
swept by the treacherous currents upon some of the many sunken rocks,
and had instantly gone to the bottom with all her crew on board.
The water preserves of Ceylon are of all sizes, from widespread lakes
to mere ponds, designed to irrigate circumscribed districts. There was
a time when each town and village, at least all that lay to the north
of the mountain range which divides the island, had its reservoir. The
first one spoken of in this chapter was built by King Penduwasa, and
was restored by the English so late as 1867. It covers an area of over
three thousand acres, and is of inestimable value to the agricultural
interests of the district. It seems that as Egyptian monarchs were
wont to build pyramids to mark the glory of their several dynasties,
so the Kandian kings and earlier rulers of Ceylon each sought to excel
his predecessor by constructing larger tanks, thus elaborating the
means of irrigation and increasing the productiveness of the island.
Sixteen of these useful reservoirs are credited to one of the latest
kings of Kandy.
Could this grand and effective principle of irrigation be applied to
the plains of Australia, what a blessing it might prove. The
oft-recurring periods of drought, extending from Brisbane in the north
to Adelaide in the south, are now a fatal blight to agricultural
enterprise. The Murray River, which at certain seasons of the year is
navigable for nearly or quite one thousand miles, now runs to waste,
becoming a mere brook half the year; and sheep and cattle sometimes
die of thirst by thousands, so that many wealthy Englishmen engaged in
sheep-raising have been made paupers in a single season. It only
needs the construction of a series of water-saving tanks upon the
course of the Murray to successfully water millions of acres of
naturally fertile soil, and to insure the country against anything
like a water famine when the dry season sets in. Why the people who
are in authority ignore such simple facts is a standing marvel.
We have said that rice was the staple product of the island, and it is
still so; but it was not long ago that Ceylon was also famous for the
amount of excellent coffee which it produced and exported. For a
while, it seemed destined to rival all the rest of the world in this
important article. Its cultivation was begun here upon a large scale
in 1825, in the vicinity of Peradenia, where the soil and climate
proved to be so favorable that speculators came hither in large
numbers from great distances, but especially from England, to
establish plantations, though the coffee-tree is not indigenous to
Ceylon. Thousands of acres of forest and dense jungle were cleared and
burned over in the neighborhood of Kandy alone, at great expense and
labor, to prepare the ground for coffee planting. There was at one
time so much speculative energy evinced in this direction that nearly
every local government official was more or less engaged in it,
embarking therein all the money which he possessed or which he could
borrow. Well-engineered roads were opened into new and available
districts, while numerous substantial bridges were erected over
previously impassable streams, and thriving villages sprang up as if
by magic amid what was formerly wild and inaccessible jungle. In the
course of twenty years, the product had risen to so large an aggregate
figure as to astonish the commercial world, and the price of the berry
was consequently reduced in all the markets of Europe. Such good
fortune, it was finally discovered, was not destined to fall unalloyed
to the share of the Ceylon planters.
Some sacrifice must attend upon all such enterprises. In clearing the
forest lands for coffee planting, a most reckless waste was practiced
in Ceylon. Magnificent groves of valuable wood were cut down and
ruthlessly burned to ashes, among which were many of the precious
cabinet woods so highly prized all over the world. Among others were
some grand banian-trees, as we were told, which had a hundred great
stems and a thousand lesser ones. There are not many such trees as
these to be found in the known world.
It is but a few years since that a nearly simultaneous blight attacked
most of the coffee plantations on the island, coming in the form of a
strange fungus, which choked the breathing pores of the leaves, and
thus rapidly exhausted the trees. The Ceylon planters were struck with
consternation for a period; years of uninterrupted good crops had
filled them with confidence, so they had annually, by liberal
expenditure, cleared more ground, spreading out their plantations in
all directions. Large sums of money were sent out from England by
individuals desirous to enter into so promising a speculation, and the
aggregate sum said to have been expended in this purpose is almost
incredible. But the blight proved to be of the most serious character,
and was so wholesale as to literally impoverish many previously rich
agriculturists who had embarked their all in the business. The island
is very rich in fungi, and this one which had so effectually blighted
the coffee plants was quite new to science. That which was for a time
so serious a pecuniary loss to this island proved to be of great
commercial advantage to Java and Brazil, whose production in the same
line was vastly stimulated thereby, while the coffee which they sent
to market realized more remunerative prices than when brought in
competition with that of Ceylon. Since this experience, a large number
of the planters have gradually turned their attention to raising tea,
together with the production of quinine from the cinchona-tree, and so
far as could be learned, they have met with good pecuniary success. An
intelligent resident of Colombo estimates that there are fifty
thousand acres of the last-named tree under profitable cultivation at
the present time. It is found that cinchona will thrive in the
mountain districts, considerably above the height at which coffee
ceases to be advantageously cultivated, while, unlike tea or coffee,
it requires no special care after it has been once fairly started. The
production of quinine, which has now reached mammoth proportions,
hardly keeps pace with the growing consumption of the drug by the
world at large. There was over one million dollars' worth of cinchona
bark exported in 1892 from Colombo.
The export of tea in 1890 rose to the considerable amount of
forty-seven million pounds, which aggregate we have evidence to show
has been since increased annually. The commercial importance of Ceylon
may be said to rest at the present time mainly upon the raising of
tea. The yield per acre is considerably larger than it is in India,
while the access to market is much better than it is at Assam or
Cachar. The Ceylon product is shipped in its natural condition, that
is to say, it is pure, while that of China and Japan is systematically
adulterated and artificially colored. There are about two thousand
plantations upon the island occupied for tea raising, averaging two
hundred acres each of rolling upland, and it is confidently believed
here that China and India will eventually be distanced by Ceylon in
the matter of supplying the markets of the world with tea. While
coffee cannot be cultivated successfully much higher than four
thousand feet above sea level in this island, tea thrives at almost
any height in this latitude, as it does in northern India, round about
Darjeeling. The only fear seems now to be that of over-production.
The last year's crop was estimated to slightly exceed eighty million
pounds, and its quality was so satisfactory as to command good prices
and a quick market.
There are several special advantages which tea culture possesses over
that of coffee; one is the ease with which the tea planter can get rid
of any pest which attacks his trees. The coffee plant gives, as a
rule, but one crop annually, the blossom season being narrowed to four
or five weeks, and if that fails because of bugs or disease of any
sort, the year's labor is in vain. In the cultivation of tea, there is
the chance of plucking leaves nearly every month of the year. If an
emergency arises, the planter has only to clear his bushes of every
leaf and, gathering the same, burn them. The insects are thus totally
destroyed, while the bushes are sure to produce a new covering of
verdure in a few weeks. There are to-day nearly three hundred thousand
acres devoted to tea culture in Ceylon.
The planters have been giving attention of late years to the raising
of cacao, the chocolate plant, and some large plantations have proved
to be very profitable, the demand being considerably beyond the
present supply. The article produced here stands as the best in the
London market, and commands the highest price. Over twenty thousand
hundredweight were exported from Colombo in 1892. That of the year
just past, we were assured, would show a considerable increase over
this amount.
Let it not be understood that coffee is no longer raised on the
island. The fact is that the blight spoken of seems to have in a
considerable degree exhausted itself, and many coffee planters are
again rejoicing over paying crops, as abundantly proven by the amount
of the berry which is still exported. It may be almost doubted if
there is any such thing as unmitigated evil; the brief though serious
blight of the coffee plant in Ceylon has proved to be a blessing in
disguise. Finite judgment is often delusive. Joseph's brethren, who
sold him into slavery, meant it unto evil, but God meant it unto good.
The equity of Providence has framed a never-failing law of
compensation, though we may not always possess sufficient intelligence
to see its application.
A coffee plantation is a charming sight at each stage of the ripening
process. Its dark green polished leaves are beautiful examples of
tropical foliage, and the white blossoms look like snowflakes gathered
in clusters about the tips of the branches, emitting a perfume not so
pronounced as, and yet not unlike, that of the tuberose. These odorous
flowers are short-lived and drop to the ground almost as quickly as
they come, being followed in due course by large crimson berries,
quite as ornamental as the flowers and nearly as large as the common
New England cherry. Within the pulp the double seeds are ripened which
form the coffee berry of commerce. The view of a thrifty plantation at
sunrise, when each spray is dripping with refreshing dew and every
little branch is diamond-capped, is lovely beyond expression.
A surprise awaited us on one occasion while visiting a coffee
plantation near Kandy. Seeing a snake over four feet in length moving
along unmolested on the path in front of the bungalow which was
occupied by the planter's family, it was quite impossible to suppress
an exclamation. Our host smiled pleasantly as he explained that the
creature was not only tolerated about the house, but that it was a
pet! It seems that these reptiles are often kept to kill and drive
away the coffee-rats, as they are called, a certain species of rodents
which are often alarmingly abundant on these estates, and terribly
destructive to the growing crops. They are twice the size of an
ordinary rat, such as is common with us. They feed upon birds,
blossoms, and ripe berries of the coffee to an unlimited extent, if
not interfered with. The snake is their natural enemy, and is more
destructive among them than a well-trained domestic cat would be. In
fact, these rats would be more than a match for an ordinary cat. So
the fer-de-lance is a great rat destroyer among the sugar plantations
of Martinique, a snake which is as poisonous as the cobra of Ceylon.
Does the reader remember that it was one of this species of West
Indian serpents which bit Josephine, the future empress of France,
when she was a mere child in her island home, and that her faithful
negro nurse saved the child's life by instantly drawing the poison
from the wound with her own lips? At Para, in Brazil, the author has
seen young anacondas six and eight feet long also kept upon the
plantations as rat catchers. Any of these serpents make very little of
swallowing a rat which they have themselves caught, but they promptly
refuse such as have been killed by a trap or other means. The Ceylon
cobra cannot cope with the mongoose, whose safety in a conflict with
this reptile lies in its extraordinary activity. The mongoose avoids
the dash of the cobra and pins it by the back of the neck,
persistently maintaining its hold there, in spite of the creature's
contortions, until it succeeds in gnawing through and severing the
spine.
In Ceylon, ladies sometimes make a pet of the mongoose, and when taken
young and reared for this purpose, the soft little hairy creature
becomes as affectionate and lap-loving as the most tiny dog,
recognizing its mistress above all other persons, and following close
upon her footsteps. It looks innocent enough, but the cobra
instinctively dreads its presence, and with good reason, for the
encounter nine times in ten costs the reptile its life. The natives
say that when a continuous fight occurs between these creatures, if
the snake succeeds in fixing its fangs in the body of the mongoose,
the latter instantly retires and eats of some plant as a preventive to
the operation of the poison, and presently returns to renew the
conflict until it finally conquers. Though this is a universally
believed statement among the common people, we do not give it the
least credit.
One other important and staple product of the island should not be
forgotten. The cinnamon-tree is indigenous, and is largely cultivated
for the valuable bark which it yields. It is estimated that over
twenty thousand acres are systematically improved in the raising of
cinnamon-trees, a very ancient as well as profitable industry in
Ceylon, and one which was held as a monopoly by the Dutch government
for a century and more. The monopoly was also maintained by the
English, after they assumed control here, but this most unwarrantable
embargo has long since been abolished, and it is no longer a
restricted article. The tree is grown from the seed, begins to yield
at about its eighth year, and continues to do so for a century or
more. It does not require a rich soil, but thrives best in a low,
sandy plain. A soil in which scarcely anything else will grow except
chance weeds seems quite the thing for cinnamon, which, like the
cocoanut palm, thrives best near the salt water. In its natural state,
it grows to a height of thirty feet; under cultivation, it is pruned
down so as to remain at about ten feet or less. It is of the laurel
family, but is as hardy as the long-lived olive-tree. The author has
seen in southern Spain, near Malaga, orchards of the latter in which
were many trees which it was declared were several centuries old,
their gnarled and scraggy appearance certainly favoring the
statement.
The cinnamon gardens, as they are called, are generally musical with
the cooing of turtle-doves, whose plump condition is owing to free
living upon the nutritious purple berries of the spice-producing tree.
The birds are not interfered with, as the berries have no commercial
value, and it should be remembered that the natives do not kill birds
or animals for food. Sometimes English sportsmen go into the
plantations and get a bag of this palatable game, though it seems
cruel to shoot such, delicate and pretty creatures. Dove-pie,
however,--this between ourselves,--is by no means to be despised,
especially where, as in Ceylon, beef and mutton of a good quality are
so rare.
On the occasion of the author's first visit to Colombo, the Cinnamon
Gardens in the immediate suburbs were much lauded, and they were in
fact one of the first attractions to which strangers were introduced.
There was a pleasant promise in the very name, and we had anticipated
something not only beautiful to behold, but which would prove grateful
to all the senses. Disappointment was inevitable. Finally, when we
reached the grounds, it seemed hardly possible that the broad area of
low, scrubby jungle and thick undergrowth which bore this attractive
name could really be the Cinnamon Gardens of which so much poetical
fiction has been written. It seems rather an anomaly, but the fact is,
clove oil is not produced by the pungent spice whose name it bears,
but is extracted from the refuse of the cinnamon bark. The "gardens"
referred to were misnamed. There was no garden about them. It was
simply a plantation of thick-growing shrubbery, apparently much
neglected. The spacious area is now improved by picturesque European
residences, spacious domestic flower plants, and croquet grounds,
carpeted with velvety grass. Flourishing fruit trees and nodding palms
render the place attractive at this writing. While strolling or
driving through a cinnamon plantation,--and there are plenty of them
all over the island, especially in the south,--one seeks in vain to
detect the perfume derived from the spice so well known. It is not the
bloom nor the berry which creates this scent, but when the bark is
being gathered at the semi-annual harvest, the aroma is distinct
enough. The spice of commerce is the ground inner bark of the tree,
the branches of which are cut, peeled, and dried in the sun. The
harvests occur about Christmas and again in midsummer. By trimming the
smaller branches the productiveness of the main portion is improved,
and the pungency of the bark is increased. Cinnamon was the cassia of
the Jews and ancients. Probably Solomon's ships brought the
much-prized spice from this island. The consumers generally did not
know from whence it came, that was a royal secret, and much mystery
hung about the matter, while the cost was at that period so high as to
make it an exclusive article,--that is to say, it was only to be
afforded by the rich.
The uncleared woodland of the island is very extensive. The forests
must have been of much smaller area when the population was quadruple
its present aggregate, particularly in the north, where the extensive
ruins show how vast in numbers the population must have been. It is
estimated by good authority that there are two and a half million
acres of wild, thickly wooded country, which contain all the varieties
of trees peculiar to the equatorial regions. It is difficult to
overestimate the grandeur of the primeval forest of Ceylon, with its
solemn arches and avenues of evergreen, its majestic palms, and tall
tree-ferns shading silver lakelets. Every pond, large or small, is
sure to be the resort of tall wading-birds and waterfowls. Presently
we come upon a spot where the earth is flecked with golden sunlight,
shifting and evanescent, sifted, as it were, through the gently
vibrating leaves, softly gilding the sombre drapery of the forest.
There is nothing monotonous in a tropical wood; individual outlines
and coloring are in endless variety. The contrasts presented in a
circumscribed space are infinite, while a never-fading bloom
overspreads the whole. Now and again the eye takes in a ravishingly
beautiful effect through the deep-blue vistas stretching away into
mysterious depths. Pressing forward, we come upon a wilderness of
splendid trees, running up seventy or eighty feet towards the sky
without a branch, then spreading out into a glorious canopy of green.
Would that we could fully impress the reader with the unflagging
charm of an equatorial forest. "You will find something far greater in
the woods than you will find in books," said St. Bernard.
Professor Agassiz recorded the names of three hundred varieties of
trees growing in the area of one square mile in a Brazilian forest.
The same abundance and variety exist in Ceylon.
The beauty and value of the native woods of this island cannot fail
promptly to attract the notice and admiration of the stranger. The
calamander, ebony, and satinwood trees, familiar to us as choice
cabinet woods, are conspicuous and ornamental, besides which there are
in these forests many other valuable species. Externally, the
ebony-tree appears as though its trunk had been charred. Beneath the
bark, the wood is white as far as the heart, which is so black as to
have passed into a synonym. It is this inner portion which forms the
wood of commerce. The sura or tulip-tree produces a material of
extraordinary firmness of texture, reddish-brown in color. It bears a
yellow blossom similar in form to the tulip; hence its name. It is
known in botany as _Hibiscus populneus_, so called because it has the
leaf of the poplar and the flower of the hibiscus. The tamarind, most
majestic and beautiful, yields a red wood curiously mottled with black
spots, and when polished gives a glass-like surface, but it is too
valuable as a fruit-bearer to be freely used for manufacturing
purposes or for timber in building. The halmalille-tree gives the
most durable and useful substance next to the palm, and is specially
adapted to the manufacture of staves for casks; indeed, it is the only
wood known on the island which is considered suitable for this
purpose. Cooperage is an important industry and a growing one here, as
many thousands of casks are required annually in which to export
cocoanut oil, not to reckon those employed for storing and
transporting that most fiery liquor, Ceylon arrack. Considerable
quantities of this intoxicant find their way northward to the
continent of India.
The famous buoyant Madras surf-boats are built of this halmalille
wood, in the construction of which no nails are used. The several
parts are secured by stout leather thongs, the wood being literally
sewed together with that article and with cocoanut fibre, wrought into
stout, durable cordage. So great and peculiar is the incessant strain
upon these small craft employed in an open roadstead that nails will
not hold in such light constructions. A certain flexibility is
required, which is best obtained in the manner described.
One tree is particularly remembered as we write these lines, a
cotton-bearer, though the article it produces is only floss-like, and
too short in texture for spinning purposes. It is, however, very
generally used for stuffing sofas and chair cushions. This tree is
deciduous; the leaves do not appear until after the crimson blossoms
have quite covered the branches, producing a very peculiar and pretty
effect. When the blossoms fall, the neighboring grounds are carpeted
in varied scarlet figures, giving a novel and lovely covering,
surpassing the finest product of the looms. After the blossoms are
gone, the bright green leaves burst quickly forth in prodigal
abundance.
If one chances to be amid these shadows of the forest after nightfall,
the scene is totally changed as well as the prevailing sounds that
greet the ear. It is then that one hears the short, sharp bark of the
jackals, the weird howl of migrating families of flying-foxes, the
ceaseless hooting of several species of owls,--one of which is known
as the devil-bird because of its uncanny scream,--the croaking of
tree-toads and mammoth crickets, mingled with the frequent,
distressful cry of some other night bird whose name is unknown,--it is
heard but not seen. Through the vistas of the trees flashes of soft
light as if from a small torch catch the eye; if it is low and marshy
these are like moving balls of fire, doubtless caused by some electric
combinations. The dance of the fireflies amid the thick undergrowth is
confusing as well as fascinating. One seems to be in fairyland, and
looks about for the figure of a sylphid floating upon a gossamer
cloud, or a group of fairy revelers tripping upon the blossom-covered
ground. Is it all reality, we ask ourselves, or a dream from which we
shall presently awake?
The large, brilliant flower of the rhododendron is familiar to New
Englanders as growing upon a bush eight or ten feet high. It is
annually made quite a feature when in bloom in the Boston Public
Garden, but in Ceylon it is much more ambitious, forming forests by
itself, and growing to the proportions of a large tree, averaging from
forty to fifty feet in height. In the vicinity of Adam's Peak this
tree abounds, covering the abrupt sides of that famous elevation
almost to its rocky summit, where it is crowned by the small,
iron-chained Buddhist temple, thus fastened to secure it against the
fierce winds that sometimes sweep these heights.
The prevailing color of the flowers is scarlet, but there are
variations showing lovely shades of pink and cream colors. Those which
grow at the greatest altitude seem to differ somewhat from the others,
and are said to be peculiar to Ceylon, being sixty feet in height,
with trunks nearly two feet in diameter.
This is but one among many of the tall flowering trees upon the
island. The reader can easily imagine the beautiful effect of a broad
mountain side covered with gorgeous rhododendron-trees in full bloom,
so abundant that the very atmosphere seems to be scarlet with the
strong reflection of the flowers. Like the superb sunset of the north,
accompanied by the orange, scarlet, and fiery red of the twilight
glow, were this mountain of rhododendrons to be literally reproduced
by the painter's art, we should think it an exaggeration.
In the opening month of the year, this regal flower is in full bloom
on Adam's Peak, and so continues until July, when it takes its
winter's sleep. The green leaves of the species growing high up the
mountain are silver-lined, while those lower down are brown on the
under side. The former have also stouter stems, and are more stocky in
all respects. The latter, to a casual observer, are more delicate in
form and more beautiful in color.