of an Orchid Hunter 



'7 



warehousing and apartments for enterprising pirates, 

 now only a playground for the sportive waves which one 

 after another resolve themselves into clouds of spray, 

 with a wild murmuring sound, fit music for so romantic 

 a situation. Passing further through the Strait, we 

 caught a glimpse of the blackened hulk of what was 

 once a fine sailing ship, carried on to the merciless 

 rocks by the current which sweeps through between 

 the various islands with oreat force. The vessel at 

 the time of the disaster was laden with coolies, who 

 were all happily rescued by a passing steamer. 



Along the coast, between the Bocas and Port of 

 Spain, the shore is interspersed and ornamented by 

 many small bathing stations, owned by the more 

 wealthy townspeople — pretty secluded retreats almost 

 hidden by clumps of tangling vegetation ; and, as if to 

 break the wildness of the rugged, uninhabited hills, the 

 passer-by is treated to a varying panorama of beautiful 

 scenery furnished by a continuation of tiny islands, 

 seven or eight in number, one larger than the rest fur- 

 nishing; accommodation for a commodious convict 

 prison. By the aid of a field-glass, it is easy to dis- 

 tinguish long lines of unfortunates pacifying justice by 

 arduous labour. Another of the larger islands is used 

 as a coolie station, where the newly-imported East 

 Indiamen find an asylum until their services are in 

 demand for the sugar plantations. Half a dozen of 

 c 



