CHAPTER VIII. 



BUEU. 



Sept. 2ot7i. — Steamed down the bay from Am- 

 boina, this time not ^vithout a slight feeling of sad- 

 ness as I recalled tlie many liaj)py hours I had passed 

 gathering shells on its shores and rambling over its 

 high hills, and as I realized that it would probably 

 never be my privilege to enjoy those pleasures again. 

 Only three months had elapsed since my arrival at 

 Batavia, but I had passed through so many and such 

 different scenes, that Amboina appeared to have been 

 my home for a year — and so it seems to this day. 



As we came out of the mouth of the bay, we 

 changed our course to the west, and kept so near the 

 land, that I had a fine opportunity to reexamine the 

 places I had \-isited during a hea\^ storm, ^vhen the 

 sea was rolling into white surf and thundering along 

 the shore. 



Off the western end of Ceram lie three islands, 

 Bonoa, Kilang, and Manipa. Bonoa, the most east- 

 erly, is a hilly island about twelve miles long and 

 half as broad. Its population is di\^ded into Chris- 

 tians and Mohammedans, and each has such a bitter 

 hatred against the other, that the Christians at last 

 determined to expatriate themselves, and accordingly, 



