AMONG THE SPICE ISLANDS. A FEW months ago I was far away on the other side of the globe -wandering over some of the islands from which we obtain pimento, cloves, nutmeg, and cinnamon. It was delightful to sail along their evergreen shores, with soft breezes fanning my cheeks, and inhale the delicious odours wafted from forests blooming with myriads of fragrant flowers; to look into inlets, bays, and sheltered coves, where the waves ripple on pebbly beaches, and where palm-trees reared their tall trunks and waved their green plumes in the balmy air. Open your Atlas to Asia, and you will see Sumatra, Java, Borneo, and hundreds of smaller islands in the Indian Archipelago, from whence we obtain our spices. Day after day our steamer ploughed its way through the calm waters, and I beheld entrancing scenes, and at night I looked out upon a sea of fire! I shall never forget one evening when we came to anchor under the lee of an island off the coast of Malacca. The stars were shining, but the night was dark, and our vessel as it glided along turned up a great furrow that reached miles away; it widened on one side far out to sea, and on the other in waves of light against the shore. When the anchor went down into the water a sudden flash of light spread out in circles over the glassy surface of the sea. The native boatmen, as soon as they heard it drop, launched their light canoes and came off to see us. Long before they reached the ship-long before their dusky forms could be distinguished through the growing darkness, we saw the water changing to fire with every dip of their oars. As I looked over the side of the vessel I saw innumerable lines of light beneath the surface, winding swiftly here and there, now circling round the ship, now diving beneath it, and coming up on the other side. Sometimes one line chased another, and then the two went in zigzags or turned sharp corners. There were numerous sparks of fire, and they all seemed to be playing tag! The fishes did all this. But a tropical forest is a wonderful thing to see. Parasitic plants, like the mistletoe, which do not draw their nourishment from the ground, but from a tree, hang in dark masses, or droop in graceful festoons from the bending limbs; others cling to AMONG THE SPICE ISLANDS. the rough bark, and twine round the gigantic trunk; and rattans, not larger than a whip-stick, wind up to the highest branches, then run along the interlaced limbs from tree to tree. The monkeys gather upon them in groups, and swing to and fro like children in a swing. The forest was dark and gloomy, for the leaves of the palms are so broad that they almost shut out the sunshine. Only think of a leaf being large enough for an umbrella! The men who sell pine-apples and mangoes in the villages put up one for a booth, and sit beneath it through the day, and sleep under it at night. It is sufficient to protect them from the sun or rain. The leaves of the "fan-palm " are ten feet long and three feet wide! Walking up a winding path, I came to the nutmeg groves and the pepper orchards. A spicy flavour pervaded all the islands, so delicious that I felt like lying down beneath the shade and doing nothing. There is no better place in the world for lazy folks. The people wear few clothes, and food does not cost much. There is no winter, spring, nor autumn, but always summer. Besides, they have the cobra-a snake so poisonous that if one were to bite me I should not live fifteen minutes, And they have anacondas, in the jungles, twenty or thirty feet long, that would break every bone in my body, or swallow me whole. Ugh! The fire flies, that buzz about our ears at night on these islands, are very large, and give out a great deal of light. A half-dozen of them will keep a room well lighted; and some of the natives put them into glass bottles, and use them instead of candles or lamps. The women, not being rich enough to own jewels, wear fire-flies instead, when they go to a dance. Their dances are usually held in the open-air. It must be a very curious sight to see a party of ladies whirling round with lightning-bugs flashing in their long black hair. The swamps and thickets present a beautiful and enchanting scene at night, when the myriads of bugs are flying about among the mangrove-trees. They keep up a constant flashing from sunset until daybreak. If you are standing during the evening by the ocean shore, both the water and the land seem to be on fire-just ready to burst into flame, and you wonder if the world isn't going to be burned up! Our black-haired boatman rows us over the calm waters, and we look down into them and behold a forest of pure white coral which the little animals are building slowly through the years. We see green and crimson, purple and violet shells lying on the bottom. And there are dark AMONG THE SPICE ISLANDS. green weeds and delicate, moss-like plants growing on the rocks. We are never weary of looking at the beautiful scenes around and beneath us, whether we behold them by night or by day. Gutta-percha trees grow on these islands. The natives tap them. They evaporate the sap in the sun until it is about as thick as tar, when it is very sticky. They use it advantageously in trapping tigers. You wonder how they can catch such ferocious beasts with gutta-percha. There are a great many tigers in the forests, so bold that they sometimes come into the villages and carry off the inhabitants who are not very well supplied with guns. One way of catching them is by digging pits and covering them with brush, and baiting the tiger 'by tying pigs or goats near by. When the tiger gives a spring to catch the poor trembling animal, he goes down through the brush to the bottom of the pit which is so deep that he cannot get out. Sometimes they set a gun near the bait, and when the beast comes up to get his breakfast he touches a string which pulls the trigger, and receives two or three, or may be half-a-dozen bullets in his body. But another way of catching them is by using the gutta-percha. A pig is tied to a tree in the jungle, and the gutta-percha spread upon the ground around it. When piggy is hungry he begins to squeal; and the tiger, sniffing a good dinner, creeps up like a cat through the bushes, cautiously and stealthily crawling on his belly over the leaves. He comes nearer and nearer, his mouth wide open, his eyes flashing fire. He gives a leap through the air and falls plump into the gutta-percha. He has killed the pig by a gentle pat of his paw, but in trying to eat him, he gets the sticky stuff into his mouth. In a short time his jaws, tongue, teeth are daubed with it. He rubs his mouth with his paws and gets it into his eyes. It is not long before they are glued together so that he cannot see. He growls more fiercely and lashes his tail. He tries to walk, but there is a great mat of leaves sticking to each foot. He rolls over and roars in rage. The natives are on the watch, and all hands rush out from the villages with shouts and hurrahs, and with guns and spears quickly despatch him. They take off his skin and carry it back in triumph, kill a pig, make a feast, dance all night, and have great rejoicing over the capture of the beast which they dread above all others. ARE YOU A CHRISTIAN? ARE YOU A CHRISTIAN? The A MISSIONARY, some time ago, was travelling in the wilds of Orissa. As he pursued his way he came in sight of an officer's tent. officer, seeing he was an European, invited him to dinner. He accepted the invitation, and after the repast the officer said, "Mr. Wilkinson, you have come out here to try and convert the Hindoos?" Yes, that is my object," answered my friend. 66 66 "And a pretty wild-goose chase," rejoined the officer, "you will make of it. You don't know these fellows so well as I do." Ah, sir, I think I myself know something about them already." 66 Ah, but you have not had to deal with them as I have. If you had been accustomed to the command of a company of Sepoys, you would soon find out their duplicity and faithlessness." Mr. Wilkinson assured him he had made some converts whose earnestness and sincerity were beyond all question or suspicion. "Ah!" said the officer, "I should like to examine them." "Your wish can soon be gratified, for here is one of them coming up the avenue.-Gunga," continued Mr. Wilkinson, addressing the native who entered, "here is a gentleman who wishes to examine you as to your Christianity." "What right has he to examine me?" inquired Gunga; “and does he mean to do so in anger or in ridicule ?" "So," said the officer, "you have turned Christian ?" "Yes." "How did you get your living before you turned Christian ?" Gunga was astonished. His pride also was hurt. "I am a Brahmin," said he, throwing back his robe over his shoulders and exhibiting a mark that attested that fact. He could not conceive how such a question could be asked of him. The officer, somewhat abashed, asked how he had felt before he became a Christian. He replied, "I felt that I myself, like all my countrymen, was in miserable darkness. I longed for the truth, but I could not find it. At length I heard that the light of truth was to be found on the padre side, and thither I instantly repaired to light my own taper at the source. I found what I sought for, and I carried my candle to the bazaars and public places, that I might communicate the same light to others. As he went on, the officer admitted to Mr. Wilkinson that this SAND-BLAST ENGRAVING. was indeed something which he had not expected to hear. A tear stood in his eye as he spoke. He had found in a Hindoo a true believer, and he was preparing to retire to indulge in his own meditations, when Gunga said, "I should like now to examine you. Are you a Christian? are you indeed a Christian?" This was an arrow to the officer's heart, and this question, asked in Christian simplicity, became the means of his conversion SAND-BLAST ENGRAVING. THE most remarkable invention brought out within the past year is that by Mr. B. C. Tilghman, of Philadelphia, for engraving on glass and stone. By means of a jet of quartz sand, blown through a pipe by steam at a pressure of 300 pounds to the square inch, he can cut a hole in a solid block of corundum-only inferior to the diamond in hardness-in a few minutes. The new process is now exciting great interest in Europe. An English journal thus speaks of it: "This American engineer just turns upon corundum a pipe which discharges sifted sand, mixed with a furious squirting of steam, and the fine shower of particles thus flung cuts a hole equal to the diameter of the jet. The same effect is produced in anything else submitted to the process. Here has the world been grinding, hammering, chiseling and whirling drills for centuries, to make holes and channels in obdurate substances, when suddenly the friend of our youth, the squirt-in a new form, no doubt comes to the rescue; and for the future we shall see the work done by this irresistible jet of dust beating in ten millions of fairy raps upon the object; thus effecting what is wished in a tenth of the previous time, and with exquisite precision. But the clever discoverer of this new agent has found that so great a force of steam is not necessary for finer work, such as grinding or engraving glass. One may employ a blast of air for this purpose by means of a rotary fan. The tube is fed with sifted sand, which the airblast takes up and whirls against the glass. It will thus completely demolish a surface, moving past at the rate of five inches in a minute, and the spent sand and glass-dust can be perpetually returned and re-employed. Moreover, by covering parts of the glass with a semi-elastic material, such as paper, lace, caoutchouc, or oil paint, designs of any sort may be engraved. The particles which eat off the hard glass or stone beat in vain upon the interposed medium, and so curious is this resistance that a green fern |