BOILING LAKE OF DOMINICA. 6l 



ute ; here a cold and sparkling stream, there another 

 boiling hot, its track betokened by a wreath of steam. 

 There were tree-ferns, wild plantains, palms, orchids 

 and wild pines, tropical vines, lianas, strange flowers, 

 gay epiphytes. Up and down and across stretched the 

 lianas, forming a net-work which my guides were 

 obliged to sever repeatedly with their great cutlasses. 

 Along the bank of this stream and through the water 

 we walked in delight — at least I did — for it seemed 

 a very tropical Eden. And yet on all sides of us was 

 barrenness and desolation ; these beautiful forms were 

 all created by the action of hot water upon the scanty 

 soil. Climbing, slipping, scrambling, we at last 

 reached a steep hill-side, where trees of different kinds 

 were growing ; and here we rested, for here was the 

 spot selected for our camp. 



But there yet remained the Lake, to which all these 

 strange sights were but preparatory scenes. It was 

 but a twenty-minutes' walk, or climb, to the basin. 

 We could hear it roaring behind the hill. Leaving 

 superfluous luggage, and two men to make camp, I 

 started on again with nothing but gun and photo- 

 graphic apparatus. We reached another river, which 

 was tumbling noisily over blanched tree-trunks and 

 sulphur-encrusted rocks, and came out of a large 

 mound of scoriag and pumice white as snow. Its 

 water was milk-white from the quantity of magnesia 

 held in solution, and steaming hot. Into it poured 

 minor streams of every shade, from white to ochreous, 

 and one black as ink. 



Up over large rocks, covered with soft sphagnum, 

 green and white in color ; up, over and through rapids 

 and around falls, passing feeding streamlets of hot, 



