rent setting into the Gulf. Two broad
channels are thus formed, by either of which the Mexican Gulf is
entered.

These channels are nearly of the same width, somewhat exceeding a
hundred miles each, the northern passage being a few miles the
broader. The Bahama Banks extend along its northern coast-line about
fifty or sixty miles distant, where commences the group of many small
isles known as the Bahamas, and of which we have already treated. On
her eastern extreme, near Cape Maysi, Cuba is within about fifty miles
of the western shore of Hayti, from which it is separated by the
Windward Passage. The southern shore is washed by the Caribbean Sea,
which is also here and there interspersed with small islands of little
importance. One hundred and fifty miles due south lies the British
island of Jamaica, with a superficial area of over four thousand
square miles. Still further to the eastward, on the other side of
Hayti, lies Porto Rico (like Cuba a Spanish possession), and the two
groups of islands known as the Leeward and Windward isles. These are
of various nationalities, including English, French, and Dutch, thus
completing the entire region familiarly known to us as the West
Indies.

In approaching the coast from the Windward isles, the observant
traveler will notice the fields of what is called gulf-weed, which
floats upon the surface of the sea. It is a unique genus, found
nowhere except in these tropical waters, and must not be confounded
with the sea-weed encountered by Atlantic steamers off the Banks of
Newfoundland, and about the edges of the Gulf Stream in that region.
This singular and interesting weed propagates itself on the waves, and
there sustains, as on the shore of New Providence, zooephytes and
mollusks which also abound in these latitudes. The poetical theory
relating to this sargasso, and possibly to the animals that cling to
it, is that it marks the site of an Atlantic continent sunk long ages
since, and that, transformed from a rooting to a floating plant, it
wanders round and round as if in search of the rocks upon which it
once grew. The southern shore of Cuba presents much of special
interest to the conchologist in the variety and beauty of the
sea-shells that abound upon its beaches. The water is of an exquisite
color, a brilliant green, very changeable, like liquid opal. Were an
artist truthfully to depict it, he would be called color-mad. Northern
skies are never reflected in waters of such