The early part of our course lay over the smooth and beautiful harbour of Trincomalee, after which we passed through a series of coves, forming what is called the Lake of Tamblegam, a connecting bay or arm of the sea, though far out of sight of the main ocean.  We soon lost ourselves amid innumerable little islands clad thickly in the richest mantles of tropical foliage down to the water’s edge, and at many places even into the water; so that, as not a stone or the least bit of ground could be seen, these fairy islets appeared actually to float on the surface.  We had to row our boats through a dense aquatic forest of mangroves for nearly a mile, along a narrow lane cut through the wood expressly for us the day before by the natives.  These fantastical trees, which grow actually in the water, often recall to the imagination those villages one sees in countries liable to frequent inundation, where each house is perched on the top of piles.  We saw with astonishment clusters of oysters and other shell-fish clinging to the trunk and branches, as well as to the roots of these trees, which proves that the early voyagers were not such inventors of facts as folks suppose them, nor far wrong in reporting that they had seen fish growing like fruit on trees!

Shortly before entering this watery wilderness, we encountered a party of native pearl-divers; and the Admiral, who was at all times most provokingly sceptical as to reported wonderful exploits, pulled out his watch, and insisted on timing the best diver amongst them, to see how long he could remain under water.  In no case did the poor fellow make out a minute complete; upon which, the Admiral held up his watch exultingly in his triumph, and laughing to scorn the assurances that at other parts of the island divers might be found who could remain five minutes at the bottom.  “Show me them! show me them!” cried he, “and then, but not till then—­begging you pardon—­I shall believe it.”  The challenge remained unanswered.

The method used by these divers is to place between their feet a basket loaded with one or two large lumps of coral, the weight of which carries them rapidly to the bottom.  The oysters being then substituted for the stones, the diver disengages his feet, and shoots up to the surface again, either bringing the full basket with him, or leaving it to be drawn up by a line.

Nothing could be imagined more wild than the mangrove avenue through which we rowed, or rather paddled, for the strait was so narrow that there was no room for the oars when pushed out to their full length.  The sailors, therefore, were often obliged to catch hold of the branches and roots of the trees, to draw the boats along.  The foliage, as may be supposed, where perennial heat and moisture occur in abundance, spread overhead in such extraordinary luxuriance that few of the sun’s rays could penetrate the massy net-work of leaves and branches forming the roof of our fairy passage.  Not a single bird could be