The Asákif, or stalks pulled off when the fruit is dry, are exported to Europe under the name of ‘clove stems,’ and are used as a mordant for dyeing silks. An English house once provided tin canisters to preserve its purchases, whereas they are mostly sent home in bulk. Certain other merchants, ‘born with the pencil behind their ears,’ open the hatches, and to make the cargo ‘weigh out’ heave in sea-water, which, they say, does not much affect the flavour of pepper and cloves. The stems fetch from one-eighth to half of a German crown per Farsilah, or frail of 35 lbs. The price of cloves, originally $5 to $6 per Farsilah, has now fallen to $2 and even to $1. In 1856, the Island exported five millions of lbs; the next year, however, was unfavourable—the trees had been injured by drought; the over-supply had sunk the price 70 per cent., and many Arab proprietors talked of returning to rice and cocoa-nuts. Yet, in 1859, the crop rose to some 200,000 Farásilah = 7,000,000 lbs, valued at about £85,000; whereas 10 years before the total produce of Zanzibar, including Pemba, was 120,000 to 150,000 Farásilah, and in 1839-40 it barely numbered 9000. We returned viâ the bush to the south of the city, passing through a luxuriant growth of the hardest woods. After a stiff ride over the worst of paths, a mere ‘picada,’ as the Brazilians say, we skirted the fetid lagoon which subtends the eastern city from north to south, and reached Mnazi Moyya, ‘One Cocoa-nut Tree.’ This bit of open ground is the Bois de Boulogne of Zanzibar, the single place for exercise, and we did not wonder that so many prefer to stay at home.