THE ATLANTIC OCEAJ^. ].57 



dicnlarly from the foaming -waves, cut and seanuul 

 into dark chasms and ravines, through which rocky 

 torrents find a noisy course, while liere and there 

 a little stream is poured over the very summit of the 

 precipice, the cascade descending in a white narrow 

 line, conspicuous against the dark rock behind, until 

 the wind carries it away in feathery spray long be- 

 fore it reaches the bottom. The sunlight throws the 

 prominences and cavities of the clifFs into broad 

 masses of light and shadow, which, ever changing 

 as the ship rapidly alters her position, give a magic 

 character to the scene. Here and there, on the sides 

 of the hills farther inland, the lawns and fields of 

 lively green, speckled with white villas and hamlets, 

 and relieved by the rich verdure of the orange- 

 groves, present a softer, but not less pleasing prospect. 

 Other islands of this interesting group gradually rise 

 from the horizon, all of similar character, but diverse 

 in appearance from their various distance ; some 

 showing out in palpable distinctness, and others seen 

 only in shadowy outline. But there is one whicli, 

 from the singularity of its shape, arrests the attention, 

 A mountain, of a very regularly conical form, seems 

 to rise abruptly from the sea, with remarkable steep- 

 ness, verdant almost to the summit ; it is almost 

 like a sugar-loaf, with a rounded top, crowned by a 

 nipple-like prominence, which is often veiled by 

 clouds. It is the Peak of Pico, seven thousand 

 feet in height, second :n celebrity, as in elevation, 

 only to the Peak of Teneriffe. A visitor has thus 

 described the picturesque beauty of this oceanic 

 mountain: — ''The Loary head of Pico presents a 



