214 A NATURALIST'S WANDERINGS 



sea and sky and the peaks of the Barisan draws the view along 

 the northward-stretching forest of mountain tops, with their 

 shaded valleys and endless lines and cuiTes of beauty, all of 

 the deepest. cobalt blue, deepened in hue by contrast with the 

 cloud flocks that floated athwart their flanks and summits; — pro- 

 minent among them the ridges of Korintji. Nearer stood out 

 the Kaba, with its smoking top ; and could that sharp cone 

 smoking on the horizon be the peak of Indrapura, with its 

 13,000 feet of stature three degrees of latitude away ? From 

 its sides the eye glided to the flat forest-clad plateau of Ulu- 

 Lintang, an old inland lake-floor which lay utterly hidden 

 beneath a great cloud sheet spread out close down on its 

 tree-tops, reflecting the sun like a mirror ; thence to the distant 

 verge of the broad Passumah below the mountain, void almost 

 of trees save a few by the ravine sides and on the precipitous 

 slopes of the gorges, over which lay fringes and patches of cloud 

 demonstrating the attracting power of even a slight arboreal 

 vegetation. Out of this undulating plateau, with its waste of 

 grass, amid which its flashing tahats looked like glittering 

 specks of glass scattered over it — the eye passed to the south 

 and south-western cobalt peaks and domes of the Barisan, 

 studded with flocky hummocks, and followed them till their 

 summits projected themselves on the Indian Ocean at the point 

 where the eye commenced its survey. No art could figure to 

 the mind the light and shade, the massive sheets of colour in 

 the wide scene ; the thousand different pictures that went and 

 came that summer's day upon the landscape's changeless out- 

 lines. The grand yet dread thundering of the geyser at our 

 feet, the scene of peace and mystic beauty outspread in solemn 

 silence beneath and around us. To have to speak or to listen 

 was an acute pain, and as distracting as a clamour of carping 

 tongues in the midst of some sweet melody or grand outburst 

 of music. As I grudgingly descended and the scene closed 

 behind me I felt that this perhaps had been an audience with 

 the Dewa of the mountain — at all events I had gained by 

 communing with Nature from this high pedestal of hers. 



My future programme included a visit to the Kaba volcano, 

 to the sources of the Eiver Eawas, and, if the Djambi people 

 did not prove too hostile, an excursion into that Sultanate. 

 As all this would at least require six months to accomplish, 



