from
red to black. The leaves, the bark, and young twigs, have also a
peculiar aroma. It grows best on the high hillsides, on a volcanic
soil, or a loose sandy loam. Curiously enough, although cloves are used
in all parts of the world, the inhabitants of these islands do not eat
them. They employ them in making models of their prows and bamboo huts,
by running a small wire through them before they are dried. I remember
seeing a number of these models in the Great Exhibition in England, many
of them of very elaborate construction. When cloves were first
introduced into England, thirty shillings per pound was paid for them.
They are now cultivated in several other places, and consequently their
value in the Spice Islands has greatly fallen.

As we returned home in the evening, we passed along a pathway lined by
rows of pine-apples, which had, like the cocoa-nut trees, been brought
from Tropical America. We also saw creatures leaping from branch to
branch. The servants caught some, when we found them to be flying
dragons; not such as Saint George fought with, but small lizards known
as the _Draco volans_. They were provided with broad folds in the skin,
along each side of the body, which enabled them not really to fly, but,
as a parachute would do, to sustain them in the air while they leap from
branch to branch.

I was ahead of our party when I heard a loud hammering or tapping, and
creeping near, I saw a cocoa-nut, which had just fallen from a tree, and
an enormous crab working away at it. I stopped to watch him. He had
torn off the dry husk which covered the latter with his powerful claws,
just at the point where the three black scars are found marked. He was
now breaking the shell by hammering with one of his heavy claws. As
soon as this was done, he began to pick out the rich food, by means of
his pincer-like claws. Our servants as they came up chased and caught
him, tying up his claws, and saying that we should find it, when cooked,
one of the greatest delicacies in the place.

We stopped for the night at the house of Mr Hooker's friend, a little
outside the town. Our beds were placed in a verandah, merely covered
with mats at night; our heads only guarded by mosquito curtains, though
we could hear the venomous insects buzzing outside. As I put my head on
the pillow before going to sleep, the sound of the low cooing of doves
came up out of the forest, while the tree frogs piped out their shrill
no