XXII.


One leaves Martinique with regret, even after so brief a stay:
the old colonial life itself, not less than the revelation of
tropic nature, having in this island a quality of uniqueness, a
special charm, unlike anything previously seen.... We steam
directly for Barbadoes;--the vessel will touch at the intervening
islands only on her homeward route.

... Against a hot wind south,--under a sky always deepening in
beauty. Towards evening dark clouds begin to rise before us; and
by nightfall they spread into one pitch-blackness over all the
sky. Then comes a wind in immense sweeps, lifting the water,--
but a wind that is still strangely warm. The ship rolls heavily
in the dark for an hour or more;--then torrents of tepid rain
make the sea smooth again; the clouds pass, and the viole
transparency of tropical night reappears,--ablaze with stars.

At early morning a long low land appears on the horizon,--totally
unlike the others we have seen; it has no visable volcanic forms.
That is Barbadoes,--a level burning coral coast,--a streak of
green, white-edged, on the verge of the sea. But hours pass
before the green line begins to show outlines of foliage.

... As we approach the harbor an overhanging black cloud
suddenly bursts down in illuminated rain,--through which the
shapes of moored ships seem magnified as through a golden fog.
It ceases as suddenly as it begun; the cloud vanishes utterly;
and the azure is revealed unflecked, dazzling, wondrous.... It