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rarely adopted by the planters, gives to M. Boulger's resi- 

 dence the air of a gentleman's country-seat in Europe. 

 After dinner, we were furnished by our host with horses to 

 carry us to Blancard's, where we remained that night. 



" Our road next morning led us round the Baie du Cap, 

 after which we had to scramble over a difficult pass called 

 the Chemin des Boeufs. This defile, hardly practicable even 

 to foot passengers, is the common channel of communication 

 between the Savanne and the leeward side of the island. 

 On turning the Pointe de Corail, at which the latter com- 

 mences, we had the Morne de Brabant. This singular 

 mountain, connected with the island by a low isthmus, has 

 the most picturesque appearance imaginable. It is a per- 

 pendicular rock, three hundred fathoms in height; the 

 summit an inclined plane, the only access to which is by a 

 narrow intricate path, terminating at a frightful chasm in 

 the rock, over which the trunk of an old tree serves as a 

 bridffe to such as venture to cross it. The summit of the 

 mountain is said to be occupied by a few runaway slaves, 

 who eke out a miserable and precarious existence by noc- 

 turnal depredations on the neighbouring farms. 



" From the Morne the road leads through a succession 

 of plantations along the shore, not far from which is the 

 ' He Morne,' a low coral bank, covered with a fine grove 

 of cocoa palms. Between the road and the shore there is a 

 thick belt of Hibiscus tiliaceus, a large distorted shrub, at 

 this time in full blossom. The bark of this shrub is so 

 tough as to serve the common purposes of cordage, and the 

 wood so light, that the fishermen use it as a substitute for 

 cork. We passed through several fields of wheat, the 

 produce of which had just been gathered in; and we 

 observed groupes of slaves in the act of thrashing it. The 

 sheaves were arranged on an elevated platform, and ten or 

 fifteen slaves of either sex, standing in a circle, with long, 

 heavy switches, kept beating them until the grain was 

 disengaged. This operation was carried on in a sort of 

 measured cadence, regulated by a plaintive musical chorus, 

 which, at the distance we passed, struck our ear as very 



