OF SANTO DOMINGO. 



59 



At San Lorenzo Bay, a little side branch of Samana Bay, the hills reach the 

 water's edge, and present an entirely different appearance from any other part of the 

 range. This is due to their being here composed of horizontal Tertiary rock, very 

 hard and weathered into the most fantastic outlines. They are from 200 to 300 feet 

 high and start up, often with precipitous sides, so separated from each other, and yet 

 so similar as to present at a great distance a rude resemblance to a battlemented wall. 

 The process of elevation is evidently going on at present, and has been doing so for 

 a long time past, since the water-face of these rocks is invariably worn into caves of 

 all sizes, from a mere overhanging ledge to an excavation of two or three hundred 

 feet or more in depth. Some of these have been occupied by the Indians, as will be 

 described further on. The eastern shore of San Lorenzo Bay is a sandy plain, con- 

 tinuous with a savana which borders the whole south side of the Gulf of Samana, 

 though often interrupted by projecting hills. The only prominent hill in the vicinity 

 is Monte Redondo, or Round Mountain, a pretty good landmark, from its being 

 isolated and standing close to the coast, just outside the mouth of the bay. The 

 forest land of this part of the Republic is always wet from the double circumstance 

 of a constant and heavy rainfall, and the impossibility of the ground drying when 

 shut off from all access of sunlight and wind. The road, travelled from time imme- 

 morial, and never mended, is in such a condition that the ordinary rule of travellers 

 over this route is to avoid going anywhere where they can see any signs of a road. 

 It is worst in the part called the " deshecho de los Franceses," or Frenchmen's turn- 

 out, a region where the road is probably in places a quarter of a mile wide, the 

 endeavor of each person being to pick a place where nobody has gone recently. It 

 is a good horse that will carry his rider from Savana la Mar to Pulgarisi across the 

 range in one day's journey, barely more than twenty miles. Just before reaching the 

 bad part of the route the traveller reaches a little settlement of half a dozen houses 

 called the Valley. Here he enters the woods, crosses the dividing ridge and 

 flounders along as best he can, gradually descending until he reaches Savana 

 Grande, a grassy tract of a thousand acres, a breathing spot, and a sort of half-way 

 station where most travellers either take a meal or spend the night. After this 

 some more bad roads and a couple of hills, the latter of which, however, the loma 

 de los Castellanos, is dry and gravelly, bring the unfortunate victim of circumstances 

 out on the margin of the broad prairies of the south side. 



I have made but little mention of the rivers of the central chain, considering 

 them rather to belong to the region through which they run than to that in which 

 they take their rise. 



