Scarcely had an hour elapsed, after the fire had been kindled that was to fell the pride of the coast and the most valuable boon of nature to the Indian world, ere, with a tremendous crash, it became prostrate upon the earth, whence, from its capacious and verdant crest, crept out creatures innumerable: large blue scorpions, brown and yellow centipedes, snakes of various hues, from the Polonga to the less dreadful rat-snake; blue, black, green, and yellow beetles; tarantulas, and other spiders, of all sorts and sizes and colours; whilst, running from branch to branch, the detested rat seemed to imitate the motions and equal in agility the beautiful tri-striped squirrel, or lena of this paradise, (as the glad rajah and his suite at that time considered it,) of the universe.
The novel fruit was, at first with some difficulty, opened; but the rajah’s superstitions were more powerful than even the effects of hunger itself. With awe, he approached the beach, over which wave followed wave in quick succession; whilst the surf beat with violence against the roots of those stately trees, which seemed to thrive best where no other tree of any utility whatever could survive even a temporary sprinkling from the briny spray.
Mute with astonishment at the vast expanse of ocean, which he then for the first time approached, the rajah bent to taste the liquid aliment. It was as his vision prognosticated. Again his wonder was increased; but his faith had kept pace with it, in the full belief, that “ere the great moon had thrice given and refused her light,” he would be cleansed from his foul distemper; and his disrespectful demeanor under the sacred Bogaha, which had originally drawn down upon him the anger of the “All-seeing,”[112] be forgiven.
Having once commenced, the rajah and his followers continued to live on the prescribed diet. The former, in obedience to the commands of Budhoo, by the Maha Sudona; and the latter, from necessity, there being none of their accustomed fruits, rice, or roots to be met with so near the ocean. They found the water[113] within the nuts sweet and delicious, and pure as crystal itself, (of which mineral their country produced abundant varieties,) whilst the fleshy part of it was a cooling and satisfying food.
The prescribed time rolled on; and day after day convinced the delighted followers of their suffering prince, that truth came from above. The rajah gradually lost the white and scaly skin, which had enveloped him like the armour of the great ant-eater of the interior;[114] whilst the glow of heat which pervaded his extremities, convinced him of the near approach of his promised recovery. Thankful to his great preserver, he omitted not to perform the duties which in his visions had been dictated to him; and on the first stone, which appeared durable and beyond the reach of the sea, in token of his gratitude, he, with the assistance of his followers, carved on the granite rock (“which you now see,” is added by the narrator) a gigantic statue of himself; remarking, that its great height would show the wonderful recovery he had experienced, being a very little man in stature; “for he had risen, by the blessing of the god of all gods, to an undeserved height of happiness and bodily vigour; the memorial of which would thus be handed down to millions yet unborn.”
Numerous families, from the high[115] country of the interior, soon afterwards emigrated to the sea coast; for it had become an imperious duty on the part of the rajah, on whom a miraculous cure had been so unexpectedly wrought by the fruit of the cocoa-nut tree, to give publicity to the circumstances which originally introduced to him and his followers a knowledge of that splendid production; whilst the conviction of its transcendent utility pointed out its propagation as a never-failing source of individual advantage and of progressive national prosperity.
This useful tree is of the Monoecious class, order Hexandria, and is the Cocos[116] nucifera of Linnæus: it is called Haari by the Tahitans, Polgaha by the Singalese. The varieties of the cocoa-nut are numerous at Tahiti, (one of the Society Islands.) I am acquainted with six, each having a distinct appellation by the natives. At Ceylon, five varieties are indigenous; but are seldom, if ever, found in the same plantation, except it be in the vicinity of a Budhoo temple of some importance. The first, or King cocoa-nut may be well known to those who have resided in Ceylon: its bright orange colour, and somewhat oval shape, cannot fail to attract notice, and is usually presented to respectable Europeans, by the Modeliars, or by the priests, as a compliment to those whose curiosity may have induced a visit to the shrine of Budhoo. This variety is the Tembili of the Singalese, and they have of it three sub-varieties. The second is of a similar colour to the preceding, but of a more spherical shape. The third is of a pale yellow, and rather heart-shaped: it is the Nawasi, or edible husk, and has the peculiar quality, that after the epidermis has been removed, the inner rind turns to a pale red, and is edible. The fourth is the common cocoa-nut, which is in general use, and the one most known. The fifth is a species of Maldivia, or dwarf cocoa-nut, about the size of a turkey’s egg, which being rare, is more esteemed as a curiosity than for any peculiar good quality it possesses.
The elevation[117] this tree attains is from sixty to one hundred feet, and a diameter of one or two feet; its cylindrical stem, crowned on the summit with numerous waving, plumy branches, has a splendid effect, and forms an elegant object of intertropical scenery: it is seen on the arid, sandy shores, with its roots laved by the surges, as well as in the rich valleys, overshadowing the huts of the natives; but when this valuable tree is found growing inland, they are inferior in size to those on the sea-shore and about the dwellings of natives. The Singalese have a saying, that cocoa-nut trees do not thrive unless “you walk amongst them, and talk amongst them.”[118]
The cocoa-nuts intended for planting are fully ripe, and being taken down, are laid aside for several days: they are then taken, and being partially covered with earth, they are left for two or three months; in which time a white, spongy, sweet substance forms in the interior of the nut; after which the white shoot (the rudiment of the future tree) emerges from one of the three holes, (which are seen at one end of the nut, wisely provided by nature for this purpose,) pierces the nut, and rising to the height of a few inches, the foliaceous rudiments are distinctly to be perceived;[119] the radicles emerge from the other two orifices, in a direction opposite to the shoot, and penetrate the ground. In the course of four or five months, the plant will have attained the height of sixteen or eighteen inches, and have thrown out three or four foliaceous branches. The Singalese plant their topes,[120] or groves, with great regularity, the distance observed between the plants being twelve or eighteen feet. The cocoa-nuts are never planted until they have sprouted, and the young plant even attained the elevation of three feet or more; the natives, therefore, usually keep the nuts intended for planting about their houses, until they are considered to be of growth sufficient to plant. At the Island of Rótuma, South Pacific Ocean, I have seen them ranged along in great numbers before the huts, the young plants growing luxuriantly from the nuts, but as yet unplanted. At this island the cocoa-nut tree is planted abundantly, and covers the island profusely, from the margin of the beach to the summits of the hills, giving a beautiful appearance to this small but fertile island. In time of sickness the natives often make use of the young cocoa-nut trees as offerings to the supposed offended spirits.