280 By Stream and Sea. 



should have been the policy adopted in the Acheen jungle. 

 Mountain guns? Rockets? Roads? Yes, these should 

 have been employed, certainly. The Dutchman admits it ; 

 but, as I have said, shrugs his shoulders and is content. 

 For ten years the Dutch have been engaged in similar trifling 

 in Celebes, and now the fourth commander-in-chief was ex- 

 pected in Acheen to fill up the place made vacant by the 

 sudden death, after a successful advance, of General Pell. 



From the deck of our steamer on entering the Straits of 

 Malacca you spy out the tall white lighthouse on Acheen 

 Head. This portion of the great island of Sumatra, neverthe- 

 less, looks peaceful and smiling. Here, verily, must be the 

 "green islands of glittering seas" which, in the fascinating 

 verse of Mrs. Hemans, enchained the wondering thoughts 

 of our childhood. Islands clothed in verdure to their lofty 

 crowns, and islets set like gems in the emerald waters, break 

 the endless expanse of sea and sky of which, through day 

 and night, you have been the solitary centre. Close to the 

 water's edge the straight bare trunks of the graceful betel 

 palm stand in serried array ; behind them virgin forest, 

 repository of unnumbered natural wonders peculiar to this 

 part of the world, rises to join hands with the lower clouds. 

 Tiny islets — mere hillocks of coral above the watery plain — 

 you may notice, too small to bear a plantation, but not barren 

 enough to reject the solitary cocoa nut palm whose plume 

 nods high above. The sea is untroubled and glassy, and 

 the fleecy clouds, " white as carded wool," hover with gentle 

 wings over the land. 



Not soon will you forget that charming passage down the 

 Straits of Malacca. Dim in the distance you can make out 

 the Sumatra Mountains ; they are quite worthy of that name, 

 since one of the peaks reaches the brevet rank of 15,000 

 feet. Golden Mount, a landmark seen, it is said, under 



