Santa
Cruz, the capital of the island. Before long the _Orion_ was rolling
her sides in the glassy waters of the bay opposite the town. Once upon
a time the island possessed a magnificent harbour--that of Garachico--
but it was filled up by a stream of red-hot lava which flowed into it
from an eruption of the mountain in 1705, and which committed much other
damage. Glassy as was the surface, the rollers from the ever unquiet
ocean came slowly in, causing; the vessels at anchor to dip their sides
alternately in the water up to their bulwarks, and, as we stood on the
deck of the _Orion_, making it seem now and then as if the town, by a
violent convulsion of nature, had been suddenly submerged before our
very eyes. This was not a place to remain in longer than could be
helped, and accordingly the captain directed Mr Henley, as the only
officer in whom he could confide, to go on shore and to bargain for the
necessary assistance we required to fit new spars and masts, and in
other respects to repair our damages. Mr Henley, knowing how anxious I
was to go on shore at every place we visited, got leave for me to
accompany him. Away we glided on the summit of the glassy roller
towards the mole, and as we passed by, active hands being ready to catch
the boat, we stepped out, and away went the watery mass broken into
sheets of foam along the sandy shore, making all the Spanish boats
hauled up on it bump and thump and grind together as if it would knock
them to pieces; but I suppose that they were accustomed to such
treatment, for no one interfered to place them in safer positions.

I was particularly struck on landing with the brilliant colours and
varied hues, not only of the sky and water, the earth and the buildings,
but of the dresses and very skins of the peasantry. Every cake out of
my paint-box would have been required, I was sure, to give effect to the
scene. Even the barefooted porters wore red scarfs round their waists,
while shawls and handkerchiefs of every tint adorned the heads and
shoulders of the women--hats, however, being worn generally by the older
dames. Then there was the fine tawny colour of the persevering oxen who
dragged after them little sledges laden with casks and bales. Camels
also we saw introduced from the not far off coast of Africa, patient as
ever, bearing heavy weights balanced on their hump backs. Madeira was
hot, but we were much hotter now, as the basalt-paved streets and the
white