BARBADOS-ANTIGUA EXPEDITION 37 
Coming back, we utilized the time afforded by a deflated tire 
in sending one of the boys up a tree for green cocoanuts, the 
first many of us had sampled. The ‘‘milk,’’ or rather water, is 
cool sweetish, and perfectly safe and healthful to drink. Many 
a time in past years I have blessed this refreshment when col- 
lecting in tropical countries and hot and tired after a long 
tramp. On my previous trip I had noted a curious illustra- 
tion of how seemingly trivial things prove a serious annoyance 
under changed conditions incident to a transfer of territory 
from one nation to another. In taking over these islands, the 
United States government stationed marines at this port. 
These men either did not know, or else often forgot that the 
Danish rule of the road is to turn to the left instead of to the 
right, as with us. This was most exasperating to the native 
autoists, and I remember that our chauffeur was most hearty in 
his curses at the stupidity of the drivers of the U. 8. auto 
trucks lumbering across the island and doggedly turning to the 
right in seeming defiance of the custom of centuries. 
The island of St. Kitts came next and was the first of the Brit- 
ish possessions that we visited. It is exceedingly picturesque with 
its lofty mountains, vivid green sugar plantations, and groves 
of palms. Basse Terre is the port and largest town, and has 
many substantial buildings public and private. Here, as in the 
other British islands, there is little formality regarding pass- 
ports and permission to land. The vessel anchors about a half 
mile from shore and a swarm of row-boats and lighters make a 
dash for the steamer as soon as the quarantine officers have dis- 
charged their duties. At all of these islands these boats in quest 
of the patronage of passengers fairly mob the steamers, and it 
is no small job to manage them and bring order out of chaos. 
The official who admirably accomplishes this at St. Kitts is my 
friend, Sergeant Major Geen, reputed to be the best police offi- 
cial in the Leeward Islands. He is a fine specimen of the negro 
at his best; intelligent and soldierly, and utterly fearless. 
When in his white uniform and helmet and clothed with the 
authority of his office, he has absolute control over this wild mob 
of boatmen. Standing at the head of the gangway, he gives 
his crisp commands in a voice that would do credit to a train 
caller in a metropolitan station, and his word is obeyed on the 
