extremes of the island are low, but the centre is occupied by the
partially wooded crest-like ridge, rugged and pinnacled, connecting La
Pouce with the famous Peter Botte. Viewed in a mass, the country looked
burnt up, of a dull yellowish red hue--the higher hills were dark green,
and the lower grounds partially so. To the left was the fertile plain of
Pamplemousses, even now, in the beginning of winter, one mass of green of
various degrees of intensity. As we approached we began to make out more
distinctly the sugar plantations, the groves of coconut trees and
casuarinas, the features of the town, and the dense mass of shipping in
the harbour. We hove to off the Bell Buoy (denoting the outer anchorage)
for the steamer which towed us to our berth abreast of Cooper's Island.

PORT LOUIS.

The harbour of Port Louis is of singular formation. It is entered by a
narrow passage or break in the coral reef surrounding the island, leading
into a large basin, the central portion only of which has sufficient
water for shipping. The bottom is mud, which, they say, is fast
accumulating, especially in a small bight called the Trou Fanfaron, where
a few years ago a line-of-battle ship could float, but which has now
scarcely water enough for a large corvette. The reefs about the entrance
are nearly dry at low-water, at which time one may wade to their outer
margin, as is daily practised by hundreds of fishermen.

Passing through the closely packed lines of shipping, and landing as a
stranger at Port Louis, perhaps the first thing to engage attention is
the strange mixture of nations--representatives, he might at first be
inclined to imagine, of half the countries of the earth. He stares at a
Coolie from Madras with a breech-cloth and soldier's jacket, or a
stately, bearded Moor, striking a bargain with a Parsee merchant; a