494 POETO RICO. 



had been rain in the night, and the shaggy hill-tops 

 were partially robed in fragments of cloud, undefined 

 and changing, which contrasted finely with the dark 

 surface of the forest. Inland the mountains in the 

 morning sun looked inviting ; and I noticed that they 

 displayed the same singular resemblance to crumpled 

 paper, as those in the eastern part of Jamaica. Our 

 stay here was short ; the harsh, deafening sound of 

 escaping steam was succeeded by the crashing of the 

 paddles on the water, and off we rushed on our 

 homeward course. By nightfall we were just within 

 the singular insulated rock called Alta Vela, or the 

 lofty sail, from its very deceptive resemblance to a 

 ship in the distance. 



At sunrise on the 13th, we were under the little 

 island Mona, between Hayti and Porto Rico, and 

 through the day we steamed along the northern shore 

 of the latter island. The land, thickly strewn with 

 cultivated estates, spotted with clumps of trees, has a 

 very beautiful appearance, contrasting in this respect 

 with both Jamaica and Hayti, whose forest-covered 

 coasts display little traces of cultivation, and look rude 

 and repulsive. Soon after mid-day, the Moro, or for- 

 tification which protects the port of San Juan, was in 

 sight, like a white wall projecting into the sea, and at 

 4 P.M. the steamer moored under it. 



A few of the passengers went on shore for an hour 

 or two. Everything showed we were in a foreign 

 country. The town gloomily walled, and strongly 

 fortified, the turret-like houses, and little balconies to 

 each window, the well-paved streets, the ladies in 

 black mantillas, opening and shutting their fans as 



