TOMBO BAY. 26d 



pointed out to me every part of the beach 01 

 shore that was connected with the untimely fate 

 of the lovers. Having surveyed all, and talked 

 the story over in broken English on their part, 

 and worse French on my own, we adjourned to 

 the house, an ancient wooden structure, looking 

 as though it might have stood there at the time 

 when the bay first received its present name. Here, 

 while the Malabar servants of the farm were un- 

 loading my boat, a repast of delicious pine apples, 

 mangoes and bananas was served up for me, and 

 the entertainment finished by the introduction of 

 a huge bowl of eau sucre, (sugar and water), from 

 which each in turn took a long draught. 



I wandered about the rocks on the shore until 

 the turn of the tide, and then launching the boat, 

 proceeded on my return. The wind was light, 

 and the tide swept us some miles seaward before 

 we arrived opposite the harbor's mouth. From 

 there I had leisure, as I reclined under an awning 

 in the boat, to view and admire the grand abrupt- 

 ness with which the volcanic peaks seem thrown 

 up. 



Peter Botta, although the most celebrated, is 

 by no means the highest of these peaks. It ac- 

 quires its celebrity from its singular shape, ter- 

 minating at the top in a huge knob or ball, which 

 has been ascended but twice since the island 

 became known to Europeans. The first ascent was 

 made by a Dutchman, from whom it derived its 

 name, Peter Botta. He was seen standing on tb 



