TENERIFFE. 
25 
thunder hursts in rattling peals, mingling with the 
rush of the hurricane and the loud roar of the tumul- 
tuous sea. All this, it may be fancied, forms a fearful 
scene, especially to the poor mariners who have har- 
boured in the narrow roadstead of Santa Cruz : the first 
prognostic of the coming storm is the signal to slip 
their cables and put instantly to sea. 
The island was anciently called the Peak of Teyde, 
and the inhabitants, who are Spaniards, still retain the 
name in preference to the more euphoneous one by 
which it is now known to the whole world. Though 
so picturesque an object, upon approaching it, the 
island possesses very little beauty of scenery within 
its shores, its cultivated spots being intersected with 
sterile and unsightly patches of volcanic matter, 
without anything deserving the name of wood, except 
here and there a cluster of stunted pines, eked out by 
a few scattered and ill-shapen palm trees, which, far 
from adorning, rather add to the desolation of the 
scene. This is more especially the case upon the 
coast, for, strange to relate, the lava and scoriae 
become less abundant on approaching the peak itself, 
the monstrous chimney of the eternal furnaces raging 
below, and the soil is more productive ; indeed it is in 
many places highly cultivated, and the gardens and 
vineyards of the Spaniards exhibit something ap- 
proximating to civilization. The same, however, 
cannot be said of the inhabitants, or of their buildings. 
D 
