These flights of butterflies,
occurring occasionally in Ceylon, have won for the butterflies
themselves the name of "Samanaliya," since it is thought that the
heathen god, Saman, left his footprint on the mountain, and the
butterflies, like devout beings, take pains to go on pilgrimage to
the holy footprint.
Comale himself knew better than to believe in this old heathen tale,
yet he never saw the myriads of flying butterflies without
remembering what he had been taught in his earlier years, before
Christianity came under the high-pitched roof where Comale's father
and mother lived.
Long time did Comale stand on the rock and gaze at the vast numbers
of flying, winged "pilgrims." The butterflies seemed countless, and
at last Comale, sighing a little, said, "They are very good," and,
jumping from his rock, made haste toward the cinnamon gardens where
he worked.
Comale was a "peeler." In the perfectly white soil around the city
of Colombo, the cinnamon tree flourishes as well as, if not better
than, in any other place in the world. It requires much practice to
become a skillful peeler of cinnamon, but Comale, having been taught
by his father, and being moreover a careful, observing lad, was fast
attaining a degree of success in his trade. Formerly the Cingalese
had allowed the cinnamon trees to grow to their natural height,
about twenty or thirty feet, and naturally the cinnamon bark from
such trees had been tough.
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