Notwithstanding its value, the tree is nearly eradicated, and runs some risk of becoming extinct in the island; but, as it is not peculiar to Ceylon, it may be restored by fresh importations from the south-eastern coast of India, of which it is equally a native, and I apprehend that the name, Calamander, which was used by the Dutch, is but a corruption of "Coromandel."

Another species of cabinet wood is produced from the Nedun[1], a large tree common on the western coast; it belongs to the Pea tribe, and is allied to the Sisso of India. Its wood, which is lighter than the "Blackwood" of Bombay, is used for similar purposes.

1: Dalbergia lanceolaria.

The Tamarind tree[1], and especially its fine roots, produce a variegated cabinet wood of much beauty, but of such extreme hardness as scarcely to be workable by any ordinary tool.[2]

1: Tamarindus Indica.

2: The natives of Western India have a belief that the shade of the tamarind tree is unhealthy, if not poisonous. But in Ceylon it is an object of the people, especially in the north of the island, to build their houses under it, from the conviction that of all trees its shade is the coolest. In this feeling, too, the Europeans are so far disposed to concur that it has been suggested whether there may not be something peculiar in the respiration of its leaves. The Singhalese have an idea that the twigs of the ranna-wara (Cassia auriculata) diffuse an agreeable coolness, and they pull them for the sake of enjoying it by holding them in their hands or applied to the head. In the south of Ceylon it is called the Matura tea-tree, its leaves being infused as a substitute for tea.

As to fruit trees, it is only on the coast, or near the large villages and towns, that they are found in any perfection. In the deepest jungle the sight of a single coco-nut towering above the other foliage is in Ceylon a never-failing landmark to intimate to a traveller his approach to a village. The natives have a superstition that the coco-nut will not grow out of the sound of the human voice, and will die if the village where it had previously thriven become deserted; the solution of the mystery being in all probability the superior care and manuring which it receives in such localities.[1] In the generality of the forest hamlets there are always to be found a few venerable Tamarind trees of patriarchal proportions, the ubiquitous Jak, with its huge fruits, weighing from 5 to 50 lbs. (the largest eatable fruit in the world), each springing from the rugged surface of the bark, and suspended by a powerful stalk, which attaches it to the trunk of the tree. Lime-trees, Oranges, and Shaddoks are carefully cultivated in these little gardens, and occasionally the Rose-apple and the Cachu-nut, the Pappaya, and invariably as plentiful a supply of Plantains as they find it prudent to raise without inviting the visits of the wild elephants, with whom they are especial favourites.

1: See Vol. II. p. 125.

These, and the Bilimbi and Guava, the latter of which is naturalised in the jungle around every cottage, are almost the only fruits of the country; but the Pine-apple, the Mango, the Avocado-pear, the Custard-apple, the Rambutan (Nephelium lappaceum), the Fig, the Granadilla, and a number of other exotics, are successfully reared in the gardens of the wealthier inhabitants of the towns and villages; and within the last few years the peerless Mangustin of Malacca, the delicacy of which we can imagine to resemble that of perfumed snow, has been successfully cultivated in the gardens of Caltura and Colombo.

With the exception of the orange, the fruits of Ceylon have one deficiency, common, I apprehend, to all tropical countries. They are wanting in that piquancy which in northern climates is attributable to the exquisite perfection in which the sweet and aromatic flavours are blended with the acidulous. Either the acid is so ascendant as to be repulsive to the European palate, or the saccharine so preponderates as to render Singhalese fruit cloying and distasteful.