Most of the foliage, however, is spoiled by a
deposit of black dust, not unlike what one sees on the leaves in a
London garden. I do not know whether this is caused by the fumes of
the not far-distant volcano, or whether it is some kind of mould or
fungus.
After riding about ten miles in the blazing sun we reached a forest,
where the vegetation was quite tropical, though not so varied in its
beauties as that of Brazil, or of the still more lovely South Sea
Islands. There were ferns of various descriptions in the forest, and
many fine trees, entwined, supported, or suffocated by numerous
climbing plants, amongst which were blue and lilac convolvulus, and
magnificent passion-flowers. The protection from the sun afforded by
this dense mass of foliage was extremely grateful; but the air of the
forest was close and stifling, and at the end of five miles we were
glad to emerge once more into the open. The rest of the way lay over
the hard lava, through a sort of desert of scrubby vegetation,
occasionally relieved by clumps of trees in hollows. More than once we
had a fine view of the sea, stretching away into the far distance,
though it was sometimes mistaken for the bright blue sky, until the
surf could be seen breaking upon the black rocks, amid the encircling
groves of cocoa-nut trees.
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