FILLETTE, 107 



overhead, rose a natural avenue of Cocorite palms, beneath 

 whose shade I rode for miles, enjoying the fresh trade- 

 wind, the perfume of the Vanilla flowers, and last, but 

 not least, the conversation of one who used his high post 

 to acquaint himself thoroughly with the beauties, the pro- 

 ductions, the capabilities of the island which he governed; 

 and his high culture to make such journeys as this a 

 continuous stream of instruction and pleasure to those who 

 accompanied him. Under his guidance we stopped at one 

 point, silent with delight and awe. 



Throuo'h an arch of Cocorite boughs ah that Ensjlish 

 painters would go to paint such pictures, set in such natural 

 frames we saw, nearlv a thousand feet below us, the little 

 bay of Pillette. The height of the horizon line told us how 

 high we were ourselves ; for the blue of the Caribbean Sea 

 rose far above a point which stretched out on our right, 

 covered w^ith noble wood ; wdiile the dark olive cliffs along 

 its base were gnawed by snowy surf. On our left, the nearer 

 mountain woods rushed into the sea, cutting off the view; 

 and under our very feet, in the centre of an amphitheatre 

 of wood, as the eye of the whole picture, was a group such 

 as I cannot hope to see again. Out of a group of scarlet 

 Bois immortelles rose three Palmistes, and close to them a 

 single Balata, whose height I hardly dare to estimate. So 

 tall they were, that though they were perhaps a thousand 



