To some
persons, still, were they residents, they would observe that the colour
of the foliage is undergoing a constant change by the varying tints of
the leaves in the different stages of their growth. These tints are far
more lovely than the autumnal shades of England, and their brilliancy is
enhanced by the idea that it is the bursting of the young leaf into
life, the freshness of youth instead of the sere leaf of a past summer,
which, after gilding for a few days the beauty of the woods, drops from
frozen branches and deserts them. Every shade of colour is seen in the
Ceylon forests, as the young leaves are constantly replacing those which
have fallen without being missed. The deepest crimson, the brightest
yellow and green of every shade, combine to form a beautiful crest to
the forest-covered surface of the island.
There is no doubt, however, that there is too much wood in Ceylon; it
prevents the free circulation of air, and promotes dampness, malaria,
and consequently fevers and dysentery, the latter disease being the
scourge of the colony. The low country is accordingly decidedly
unhealthy.
This vast amount of forest and jungle is a great impediment to the
enjoyment of travelling. The heat in the narrow paths cut through dense
jungles is extreme; and after a journey of seventy or eighty miles
through this style of country the eye scans the wild plains and
mountains with delight.
