well looked after, and, considering the times, prosperous. It has
a fine garrison, and a dockyard well furnished, with frigates in the
harbours ready for action should occasion arise. I should infer from
what I heard that in the event of war breaking out between England and
France, Martinique, in the present state of preparation on both sides,
might take possession of the rest of the Antilles with little
difficulty. Three times we took it, and we gave it back again. In turn,
it may one day, perhaps, take us, and the English of the West Indies
become a tradition like the buccaneers.

The mountains of Dominica are full in sight from Martinique. The channel
which separates them is but thirty miles across, and the view of
Dominica as you approach it is extremely grand. Grenada, St. Vincent,
St. Lucia, Martinique are all volcanic, with lofty peaks and ridges; but
Dominica was at the centre of the force which lifted the Antilles out of
the ocean, and the features which are common to all are there in a
magnified form. The mountains range from four to five thousand feet in
height. Mount Diablot, the highest of them, rises to between five and
six thousand feet. The mountains being the tallest in all the group, the
rains are also the most violent, and the ravines torn out by the
torrents are the wildest and most magnificent. The volcanic forces are
still active there. There are sulphur springs and boiling water
fountains, and in a central crater there is a boiling lake. There are
strange creatures there besides: great snakes--harmless, but ugly to
look at; the diablot--from which the mountain takes its name--a great
bird, black as charcoal, half raven, half parrot, which nests in holes
in the ground as puffins do, spends all the day in them, and flies down
to the sea at night to fish for its food. There were once great numbers
of these creatures, and it was a favourite amusement to hunt and drag
them out of their hiding places. Labat says that they were excellent
eating. They are confined now in reduced numbers to the inaccessible
crags about the peak which bears their name.

Martinique has two fine harbours. Dominica has none. At the north end of
the island there is a bay, named after Prince Rupert, where there is
shelter from all winds but the south, but neither there nor anywhere is
there an anchorage which can be depended upon in dangerous weather.

Roseau, the principal or only town, stands midway along the western
shore.