As we were sailing along in front of the village of Malacca into the splendid harbour, and just as the lead had almost a moment before marked 23 fathoms, the look-out man suddenly descried a shoal. Notwithstanding the man[oe]uvres that were at once put in execution, it was found impossible to get entirely clear, and the frigate grounded forward of the beam on the port-side. Although it was ebb-tide, yet deep water was observable both ahead and astern, and accordingly an effort was made, by running out the guns and laying out a spring for the frigate to haul upon, to get the ship once more afloat, which accordingly speedily proved successful, so that by sundown we were enabled to anchor in good holding ground, opposite the village of Itoe, in the island of Nangkauri. Here we lay in a calm, tranquil sheet of water, such as we had not fallen in with throughout our voyage hitherto, surrounded by dense forest, from which were heard distinctly, on board ship, the disagreeable shrill sound of innumerable crickets, and the deep coo of the great Nicobar wood-pigeon. Except for these, the most profound stillness reigned. There was not the smallest movement either in sea or sky. Although on our excursion to Kar-Nicobar we had to endure great heat, it was here that for the first time we experienced in all its discomfort the oppressive, relaxing sultriness of the tropical atmosphere, when saturated with vapour. The thermometer stood pretty regularly at 84° to 86° Fahr., nor was it possible to find any relief by plunging into the water, which was if anything even warmer than the air. Hemmed in on all sides, and with the welcome beneficent sea-breeze frequently ceasing to blow for a week together, it was speedily pronounced a riddle, impossible to be solved, how this harbour came to be once and again selected by German and Danish Missionaries for the purposes of colonization, unless the key to the mystery be found in its secure situation, the exquisite beauty of the mountain landscape, and the numerous clear spots around.