ion (he
meant instruction) to take them in peace, if I could not by war."'

Such was the fate of the poor gentle folk who for unknown ages had
swung their hammocks to the stems of these Moriches, spinning the
skin of the young leaves into twine, and making sago from the pith,
and thin wine from the sap and fruit, while they warned their
children not to touch the nests of the humming-birds, which even
till lately swarmed around the lake. For--so the Indian story ran--
once on a time a tribe of Chaymas built their palm-leaf ajoupas upon
the very spot where the lake now lies, and lived a merry life. The
sea swarmed with shellfish and turtle, and the land with pine-
apples; the springs were haunted by countless flocks of flamingoes
and horned screamers, pajuis and blue ramiers; and, above all, by
humming-birds. But the foolish Chaymas were blind to the mystery
and the beauty of the humming-birds, and would not understand how
they were no other than the souls of dead Indians, translated into
living jewels; and so they killed them in wantonness, and angered
'The Good Spirit.' But one morning, when the Guaraons came by, the
Chayma village had sunk deep into the earth, and in its place had
risen this lake of pitch. So runs the tale, told some forty years
since to M. Joseph, author of a clever little history of Trinidad,
by an old half-caste Indian, Senor Trinidada by name, who was said
then to be nigh one hundred years of age.

Surely the people among whom such a myth could spring up, were
worthy of a nobler fate. Surely there were in them elements of
'sweetness and light,' which might have been cultivated to some fine
fruit, had there been anything like sweetness and light in their
first conquerors--the offscourings, not of Spain and Portugal only,
but of Germany, Italy, and, indeed, almost every country in Europe.
The present Spanish landowners of Trinidad, be it remembered always,
do not derive from those old ruffians, but from noble and ancient
families, who settled in the island during the seventeenth century,
bringing with them a Spanish grace, Spanish simplicity, and Spanish
hospitality, which their descendants have certainly not lost. Were
it my habit to 'put people into books,' I would gladly tell in these
pages of charming days spent in the company of Spanish ladies and
gentlemen. But I shall only hint here at the special affection and
respect with which they--and, indeed, t