At Anjer, in the Straits of Sunda, the Malays came off to the ship in their little boats with provisions of all sorts to sell. Every one of them had letters of recommendation, as they thought, from the English captains and officers who had previously traded with them; but these letters, if they could have been translated for their possessors, would have been instantly cast into the sea and a general riot perhaps would have followed. One of the letters read something like this: "If this black thief brings any eggs to sell to you, don't buy them, as they are always rotten. He may also try to sell you a rooster, but don't buy it, as it is the same cock that crew when Peter denied Jesus." Of course everybody on the ship roared with laughter as each letter was handed up to us and read aloud for the edification of all. The simple Malays guffawed loudly in their boats, thinking that we were heartily pleased with them and their wares. When next I passed through the Sunda Straits, Krakatoa had been at work in eruption and had completely changed the face of the coast, and Anjer itself and the little island it stood on were gone. This Dutch colony was a revelation to me in every way. I had never seen anything at all like it in any other part of the world, and was never again to see anything quite so quaint or so delightful. The ride from Batavia to the hotel was full of surprises. I was accompanied by a troop of little children, all of them pressing close up to us and crying for "doits"--small copper coins. I scattered these little coins among them again and again, but they could never get enough, but kept on crying, "doit, doit!" Then the color of the trees, the rich shades of the flowers that flourished everywhere, the beauty of the scenery--all was a delightful surprise. I have never seen elsewhere so many or such rare flowers. The whole island of Java, as I was soon to learn, is a vast botanical garden, far more beautiful and rare than any that science can create. Nature, the great horticulturist, has here done her best and final work. The air, too, was delicious. It was perfumed by flowers, aromatic herbs, and spices. I had never realized before what was meant by the legends of the "Spice Islands," and I fancied that here was the place for man to live and die.