yielding, occasionally, as much as eighty thousand
pounds per annum. The season for fishing
is during the month of March; just when the
force of the north-east monsoon has passed
over, and previous to the first appearance of
the south-west winds. The oyster banks are
situated off a point of land called Aripo, on
the west coast of the island, far to the north of
Colombo, and not very distant from "Adam's
Bridge;" a ridge of rocks crossing the Samubin
Channel, nearly from Ceylon to the most
southern point of the Indian Continent. The
Banks are numerous and mostly of but a
few miles in extent; they are out of sight
of land, which is here very low, so that to fish
them requires some degree of experience and
skill. The exclusive right to this Fishery
rests with the Ceylon Government; and this
right was, for many years, sold by public
auction or by private tenders to native renters.
In more recent times the Government fished
the Banks on their own account, disposing
of the oysters, as brought on shore, by
auction.

On the 25th of February, 1836, I arrived in
the Bay of Condaletry, the anchorage of Aripo,
a passenger on board the Government barque
"Wellington," of whose Commander I was
the guest. The Inspector of the Pearl Banks
was also on board, with his own boat and
crew: his lugger was fitted up very
comfortably with awnings and cushions, precautions
I soon found highly necessary on such
service.

Early the next morning I landed with the
Inspector at Silawatorre, a small village,
distant a few miles from the station at Aripo.
This was a most miserable little place,
consisting of but a single row of small mud huts
standing in hot and dusty solitude with a
few lonely parched up palms near them; but
far as the eye could reach, inland or coast-
wise, there was nothing to break the monotony
of endless sand-plains, save the distant
white walls of the "Doric;" a lofty, stuccoed
Government building, near Aripo, which
glistened and shone so brilliantly in the rays
of the morning sun as to make one's eyes
blink again. For miles around lay countless
heaps of snowy oyster shells, bleached by the
suns of many monsoons. Ridge over ridge,
heap upon heap, they seemed to have no end;
and one might well have imagined that, in
years long past, some conflicting armies of
oysters had met to do battle on those sea-
washed sands, and left their many hetacombs
of slain unburied on those wastes.

There were a few dirty women, and thin-
faced children on the beach, whose curiosity
had for the moment overcome their sloth.
Further on under three palms, stood the
Adapanaar of Aripo, or headman of the
district; a fine grey-bearded old man, attended
by his deputy the Maniagar, and a few seedy
looking followers armed to the teeth with
paper umbrellas and painted sticks. The
inspector adjourned with these strange-looking
officials to a thatched open bungalow, by a
small flag-staff, where they were soon
engrossed in details respecting the approaching
fishery. The scene was altogether so desolate
and uninteresting, and the sun was becoming
so powerful, that I was glad to return to
the ship by the first opportunity—a native
canoe.

The following morning we stood out for
the "Banks," near which the anchor was
dropped, and for several days, the Inspector
and his boat's crew were occupied in placing
buoys with little blue and red flags attached,
upon the edges of the several beds which
were to be poked. The weather was oppressively
hot; the sky was without a cloud
to break the intensity of the sun's rays;
the sea-breeze blew faintly and fitfully,
scarcely rippling the surface of the water,
which seemed as though it were a sea of some
molten metal.

On the 5th of March we returned to our
anchorage in Condaletry Bay; but this time
closer to the shore. I could not help being
amused at the pantomimic change which had,
during our absence, come over the dull mud-
village and dusty plains on shore. It was as
though Harlequin had, with his wand,
transformed all those piles of shells I had left
on the beach, into living masses of dusky
human beings. The Genius of the Wonderful
Lamp must have given his vessel an extra rub,
and conjured up the inhabitants of some
subterranean world to astonish us on our return.
The very sands of the plain seemed to be
redolent of life. The miserable row of low, dirty
huts had either been levelled to the ground,
or were hidden from sight by numberless gaily-
coloured booths or Pandals, of all sorts of
shapes and sizes, ornamented with the pale
green leaves of the Palmyra and Cocoa Palm,
and long strips of white cloth. There were
thousands of natives flocking and struggling
down to the beach, as though they expected
us to bring on shore all the wealth of the
Pearl Banks. Our anchorage-ground was
opposite the little flag-staff; and, about us as
thick as they could be moored lay fully two
hundred native boats of various sizes, though
of one build, being a sort of rakish-looking
barge; so sharp and knowing, both forwards
and aft, that one might have imagined them
to have been bloated and corpulent London
wherries. They were each manned by ten
oarsmen, a Tandal or steersman, and his
deputy, besides a cooley for baling out the
water; for most of these craft leak freely.
They measure from eight to twelve tons,
yet there are very few nails about them;
the omnipotent cocoa-nut fibre serving to
fasten nearly all Cingalese vessels and boats
together.

I could not resist the temptation
presented by the motley scene on shore.
Accordingly towards the evening, I landed, and
mixed amongst the busy, endless throng.
It seemed almost incredible that the gay