ted, as these sylvan colonists struck their saplings into an
alien soil. Insects, preserved by the bark, propagated themselves in
new surroundings, and seeds drifting on the waves, or clinging to roots
and fibres, wreathed unfamiliar shores with exotic flowers. Animal
migration has frequently been caused by natural catastrophes, and to
birds directing their swift flight by faculties now attributed to keen
observation rather than to unreasoning instinct, the change of locality
was infinitely simplified. In the Moluccas we may read a compendium of
the wide-spread history which applies to the vast regions comprised in
the mighty Archipelago. The doctrine of earthly changes and chances,
too often accepted as a mere figure of speech, is here recognised as a
stern reality; the tragedies of destruction repeat themselves through
the ages, the laboratories of Nature eternally forge fresh
thunderbolts, and the fate of humanity trembles in the balance.
Meanwhile a profusion of flowers wreathes the sacrificial altars, the
fairest fruits ripen above the thin veil which hides the fountains of
volcanic fire, and the sweetest spices of the world breathe incense on
the air. The uncertain tenure of earthly joys gives them redoubled zest
and poignancy, the passionate love of life becomes intensified by the
looming shadows of Death, and the light glows with clearer radiance
against the blackness of the menacing thunder-cloud.

BANDA.

The exquisite islands of Banda, dominated by the stately volcano of
Goenoeng Api (the mountain of fire), form the climax of the enchanting
Moluccas. Contour and colour reach their utmost grace and softest
refinement in this ideal spot, a priceless jewel resting on the heart
of the Malay Archipelago.

The mists of dawn have scarcely lifted their gossamer veils from the
dreaming sea, when the pinnacled rocks of Rum and Aye, the outposts of
the Banda group, pierce the swathing vapours. The creamy cliffs of
Swangi (the Ghost Island), traditionally haunted by the spirits of the
departed, show their spectral outlines on the northern horizon, and the
sun-flushed "wings of the morning" span the sapphire arch of heaven as
we enter the sheltered gulf of the Zonnegat, fringed by luxuriant woods
clothing a mountain side, and brushing the water with a green fringe of
trailing branches. Gliding between Cape Lantaka and two isolated crags,
the steamer enters a glassy lake, encircled by sylvan heights, with
the me