A LOST FEBRUARY 



The only wild animal that we saw in Jamaica 

 was the mongoose, and this was not often seen. We 

 had glimpses of three or four, during our month's 

 stay on the island, hurriedly crossing the road in 

 front of us, or darting into the bushes. They sug- 

 gested a large weasel or a Ught-colored mink. They 

 are very destructive to everything that lives and 

 nests upon the ground. They have even driven the 

 rats into the trees ; we saw several rats' nests amid 

 the branches. They make eggs and poultry expen- 

 sive on account of their depredations upon the hen- 

 coops. 



Our last week in Jamaica was spent at Bowden 

 on Port Morant, near the extreme eastern eiid of the 

 island. Bowden proved to be the most restful and 

 enjoyable place we had found — a most dehghtful 

 change from the heat, dust, and squalor of Kings- 

 ton. The hotel, called Peak View Cottages, owned 

 by the United Fruit Company, is situated on a ridge 

 three hundred feet above the harbor, with the sea on 

 one hand and the huge pile of the Blue Mountains 

 on the other. A fresh breeze was always blowing, 

 the Caribbean Sea was always full of delicate, shift- 

 ing rainbow tints, the ten thousand cocoanut palms 

 that covered hill and valley about us were always 

 rustling and swaying, and the Blue Mountains and 

 the John Crow range, with a vast stretch of wooded 

 country between us and them, with plantation 

 houses at intervals gleaming out of the dank green, 

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