tenance from coming in
contact with anything unclean. The sacred books of the Booddhists and
Brahmins are also written on the talipat palm leaves, as are many
of their historical records and scientific works. This mammoth tree
sometimes reaches the height of nearly two hundred feet, and its trunk
the circumference of twelve feet. It lives to the age of nearly a
century, but blossoms only a single time; during the whole period of
its existence. The flower, some thirty feet in length, bursts with a
loud explosion at maturity, and in dying scatters the seeds that are
to produce the next generation of trees. A single leaf will sometimes
measure forty feet in circumference; and it is no unusual sight on the
Malabar coast, where storms are so fierce and sudden, to see ten or
fifteen men finding shelter in a boat over which is spread a single;
palm leaf, which effectually shields all from both wind and rain. When
the storm has subsided the huge leaf may be folded up like a lady's
fan, and is so light as to be readily carried by a man under one arm.
The talipat never grows wild, it is said, as do most of the other
palms; and it reaches its greatest perfection in the island of Ceylon.
All that I ever met with were under cultivation, being tended and
nursed with the utmost care. Indeed, half a dozen talipat palm trees
are a fortune in themselves, the leaves being very profitable as
merchandise, while a crop may be gathered every year during a long
life, and then the tree be of sufficient value to be bequeathed to the
heirs of the owner.

Bidding adieu to our Malayan host, we once more entered the
palanquins, and in a little while were set down on the coast, where
lay our sampan with flag hoisted and pennons gayly flaunting in the
breeze. First we passed Battu Bliah, "the sailing rock"--so called
from its fancied resemblance to a ship under widespread canvas; then
around an abrupt projection of Erskine's Hill, in a narrow passage
between Singapore and Baltan Mateo, we came in full view of
the promontory upon the highest point of which is built the
palace-bungalow of the old sultan-rajah who held sway over the island
previous to its purchase by Sir Stamford Raffles for the British
government, in 1819. The old rajah has passed away, but the bungalow
is still occupied by his son, a pensioner on the English Crown, and
one of the most daring pirates in all that region--successful enough
to have achieved a fame for prowess, but too cra