46 THE SOUTHERN SEA. 



trees, producing an effect of richness and profusion 

 in the vegetation that nothing could exceed. Every- 

 thing, too, was bright, fresh, and glittering with 

 the morning dew. Leaving this magnificent forest, 

 we again got upon some cultivated land, and shortly 

 reached a small village called Tampa, where, at a 

 pandopo by the road side we found tea, fruit, and 

 cakes awaiting us, as usual, the moment we took 

 our feet out of the stirrups. After a slight halt, 

 we rode on to the sea. The country was flat, and 

 very fertile looking, but for the last two miles 

 totally uncultivated and in a state of nature. Here 

 broad spaces of alang alang waved in the wind, or 

 stretched with green alleys and open glades into 

 the recesses of the forest, producing the most lovely 

 sylvan scenery. Numbers of peacocks screamed 

 from the summits of the loftiest trees ; and deer 

 must, I should think, abound in a country so well 

 adapted for them. The long grass, or alang alang, 

 was not too high to ride through, even on our ponies, 

 though we often could not see well around us when 

 among it. This tract of country looked like a noble 

 park adapted to a tropical latitude. 



At length we reached a small pandopo perched 

 on the summit of a cliff overlooking the sea. This 

 cliff was about sixty feet in height, and below, 

 between it and the sea, was a small flat of sand 

 and pebbles scantily covered with grass, and about 

 three hundred yards in width. Through this 

 flat wound a small brook which oozed into the sea, 



