Another day we rode to the village of St. Domingo, situated
near the centre of the island. On a small plain which
we crossed, a few stunted acacias were growing; their tops
had been bent by the steady trade-wind, in a singular
manner -- some of them even at right angles to their trunks.
The direction of the branches was exactly N. E. by N., and S. W.
by S., and these natural vanes must indicate the prevailing
direction of the force of the trade-wind. The travelling had
made so little impression on the barren soil, that we here
missed our track, and took that to Fuentes. This we did
not find out till we arrived there; and we were afterwards
glad of our mistake. Fuentes is a pretty village, with a small
stream; and everything appeared to prosper well, excepting,
indeed, that which ought to do so most -- its inhabitants.
The black children, completely naked, and looking very
wretched, were carrying bundles of firewood half as big as
their own bodies.

Near Fuentes we saw a large flock of guinea-fowl --
probably fifty or sixty in number. They were extremely
wary, and could not be approached. They avoided us, like
partridges on a rainy day in September, running with their
heads cocked up; and if pursued, they readily took to the
wing.

The scenery of St. Domingo possesses a beauty totally
unexpected, from the prevalent gloomy character of the rest
of the island. The village is situated at the bottom of a
valley, bounded by lofty and jagged walls of stratified lava.