BOILING LAKE OF DOMINICA. 61 
ute; here acold and sparkling stream, there another 
boiling hot, its track betokened by a wreath of steam. 
There were tree-ferns, wild plantains, palms, orchids 
and wild pines, tropical vines, lianas, strange flowers, 
gay epiphytes. Up and down and across stretched the 
lianas, forming a net-work which my guides were 
obliged to sever repeatedly with their great cutlasses. 
Along the bank of this stream and through the water 
we walked in delight—at least I did — for it seemed 
a very tropical Eden. And yet on all sides of us was 
barrenness and desolation; these beautiful forms were 
all created by the action of hot water upon the scanty 
soil. Climbing, slipping, scrambling, we at last 
reached a steep hill-side, where trees of different kinds 
were growing ; and here we rested, for here was the 
spot selected for our camp. 
But there yet remained the Lake, to which all these 
strange sights were but preparatory scenes. It was 
but a twenty-minutes’ walk, or climb, to the basin. 
We could hear it roaring behind the hill. Leaving 
superfluous luggage, and two men to make camp, I 
started on again with nothing but gun and photo- 
graphic apparatus. We reached another river, which 
was tumbling noisily over blanched tree-trunks and 
sulphur-encrusted rocks, and came out of a large 
mound of scoriz# and pumice white as snow. Its 
water was milk-white from the quantity of magnesia 
held in solution, and steaming hot. Into it poured 
minor streams of every shade, from white to ochreous, 
and one black as ink. 
Up over large rocks, covered with soft sphagnum, 
green and white in color; up, over and through rapids 
and around falls, passing feeding streamlets of hot, 
