In the interior, the fine fruit-trees disappear, and their place is supplied by plantains, tarros, and a kind of bush, growing to the height of twelve feet, and called Oputu (Maranta); the last, in fact, grew so luxuriantly, that we frequently experienced the greatest difficulty in making our way through.  The tarro, which is planted, is from two to three feet high, and has fine large leaves and tubercles, similar to the potato, but which do not taste very good when roasted.  The plantain, or banana, is a pretty little tree, from fifteen to twenty feet high, with leaves like those of the palm, and a stem which is often eight inches in diameter, but is not of wood, but cane, and very easily broken.  It belongs properly to the herbiferous species, and grows with uncommon rapidity.  It reaches its full growth the first year:  in the second it bears fruit, and then dies.  It is produced from shoots, which generally spring up near the parent tree.

Through one mountain stream, which chafed along the ravine over a stony bed, and in some places was exceedingly rapid, and, in consequence of the rain that had lately fallen, was frequently more than three feet deep, we had to wade sixty-two times.  My guide caught hold of me by the hand whenever we passed a dangerous spot, and dragged me, often half swimming, after him.  The water constantly reached above my hips, and all idea of getting dry again was totally out of the question.  The path also became at every step more fatiguing and dangerous.  I had to clamber over rocks and stones covered to such an extent with the foliage of the oputu that I never knew with any degree of certainty where I was placing my foot.  I received several severe wounds on my hands and feet, and frequently fell down on the ground, when I trusted for support to the treacherous stem of a banana, which would break beneath my grasp.  It was really a breakneck sort of excursion, which is very rarely made even by the officers, and certainly never by ladies.

In two places the ravine became so narrow, that the bed of the stream occupied its whole extent.  It was here that the islanders, during the war with the French, built stone walls five feet in height to protect them against the enemy, in case they should have attacked them from this side.

In eight hours’ time we had completed the eighteen miles, and attained an elevation of 1,800 feet.  The lake itself was not visible until we stood upon its shores, as it lies in a slight hollow; it is about 800 feet across.  The surrounding scenery is the most remarkable.  The lake is so closely hemmed in by a ring of lofty and precipitous green mountains, that there is no room even for a footing between the water and the rocks, and its bed might be taken for an extinguished volcano filled with water—­a supposition which gains additional force from the masses of basalt which occupy the foreground.  It is plentifully supplied with fish, one kind of which is said to be peculiar to the locality; it is supposed that the lake has a subterranean outlet, which as yet remains undiscovered.