We reached home at eight o’clock, after a cruise, by sea and by land, of thirteen hours; but the day had been so replete with enjoyment that we scarcely felt conscious of fatigue, and were off again the next morning, soon after sun-rise, for a ride to Bookit Tima ("hill of tin"), the central and loftiest peak of Singapore Island.  It is nine miles from the city, with a smooth road to the very summit, so that we might go either in pony palanquins or on horseback.  We chose the latter, as affording us better opportunity for observation and the collection of “specimens,” and, as we could readily gain the mountain-top in season for a nine o’clock breakfast, the heat would not be oppressive.  Abdallah despatched the chuliahs, each with a stout load of provisions, table-ware and cooking-utensils, at dawn, and when we arrived our dejeuner was ready to be served.  The viands were tempting and the cookery faultless, but we could scarce do justice to either, so eager were we to begin our explorations on the summit and sides of this beautiful hill, or rather hills, for there are twin peaks closely connected, and each presenting an enchanting view of verdant fields and fertile valleys, of the neighboring city, the wide expanse of blue waters beyond, and the shipping in the harbor.  Having satisfied ourselves with gazing at the distant prospect, we began to descend in search of adventures, sending our ponies ahead to await us at the base of the mountain, where we were to dine.  Onward we strolled, gradually descending, every step marked by novelties—­flowers, grasses, weeds and shrubs vieing with each other in varied and glad-some beauty.  At length we sat down to rest beneath a huge bombax or cotton tree (Bombax ceiba), its widespread branches and thick foliage shielding us effectually from the noonday sun, a fragrant blossom falling occasionally into our laps or pelting us over head and shoulders, while with every passing zephyr the fleecy down from the ripe bolls floated hither and thither, looking for all the world like a snow-storm, except that the sun was shining luminously in the clear heavens.  This tree must have been sixty feet in height, a grand, noble type of a green old age after scores of years well and usefully spent, still vigorous and productive.  We met specimens afterward even taller and larger than this, and they are said sometimes to reach the height of a hundred feet.  The timber is light and porous, and is in great demand for boats.  Lower down, the various palms, especially the cocoa-nut and cabbage, were all about us.  The former is found in nearly every tropical clime, and is of all trees the one most indispensable to the East Indian, furnishing him with meat, drink, medicine, clothing, lodging and fuel.  The ripe kernel of the nut, besides being eaten, has expressed from it an excellent oil, that feeds all the lamps in an Oriental house, supplies the table with a most palatable substitute for butter, and the belle with a choice article of