For once, the reality exceeded the most glowing accounts I had ever read of the wonders of a coral sea.

There is perhaps no spot in the world richer in marine productions, corals, shells and fishes, than the harbour of Amboyna.
From the north side of the harbour, a good broad path passes through swamp, clearing and forest, over hill and valley, to the farther side of the island; the coralline rock constantly protruding through the deep red earth which fills all the hollows, and is more or less spread over the plains and hill-sides.

The forest vegetation is here of the most luxuriant character; ferns and palms abound, and the climbing rattans were more abundant than I had ever seen them, forming tangled festoons over almost every large forest tree.

The cottage I was to occupy was situated in a large clearing of about a hundred acres, part of which was already planted with young cacao-trees and plantains to shade them, while the rest was covered with dead and half-burned forest trees; and on one side there was a tract where the trees had been recently felled and were not yet burned.

The path by which I had arrived continued along one side of this clearing, and then again entering the virgin forest passed over hill and dale to the northern aide of the island.
My abode was merely a little thatched hut, consisting of an open verandah in front and a small dark sleeping room behind.