82 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. 
and bare, to which the continual trade-winds have 
given a color, gray and weather-beaten. Palm and 
plantain crop out on the hillsides beyond, and the 
formér thrusts its head up from the river ravines be- 
low. Behind it, hid by the swell of the knoll, are the 
graves—not many, yet not few, for so small a settle- 
ment — simply raised hillocks of earth; and some 
have upon them a few flowers, which seem to be 
occasionally renewed. Upon the graves, all the trees 
have fallen prostrate, or have been felled, to cover 
them; with limbs stretched at the foot of the cross. 
I have never been in a cemetery that so appealed to 
my feelings as this. All is still, and solitude reigns. 
From the slight depression of the surface here, 
nothing is seen evincing human occupancy of the 
valley, until the foot of the cross is reached. Many 
an evening, during my six weeks’ stay in that lonely 
valley, have I climbed to the base of the cross and sat 
there enjoying the silence and solitude. From that 
point one overlooks the lower half of the valley, which 
is shut in on three sides by high hills covered with 
forest, abandoned fields, and provision grounds, alter- 
nating. Beneath, the most prominent object is a rude 
chapel, a loosely-built structure, to which comes 
monthly a lusty priest, to care for the souls and the 
silver of the people. Lower still, are the four or five 
thatched huts comprising the village of Salibia; but 
one of these is occupied, and the cocoa palms rustle 
their leaves in a desolate place; and their rustling, 
with the eternal roar of the ocean, is the only sound 
heard from morning to night. , 
There are sea-grapes there in perfumed bloom, 
among the satin leaves of which dart humming-birds, 
