CHAPTER XIX.

WALKS AND TALKS ABOUT THE CANARY ISLANDS.

As soon as the lecture of Mr. Mapps was ended, all hands were allowed to go on shore. The elegant barge of the Marian had gone directly from the American Prince to the landing-place, having on board Don Roderigue and his daughter. The boat was pulled by four seamen with a coxswain in the stern, all attired in holiday uniforms; and the barge was fitted up as gayly as a festive gondola in the Grand Canal of Venice, for the young lady and her father.

“Here we are!” exclaimed Lieut. Scott, as he stepped on the shore with Capt. Wainwright. “I had an idea we should hear immense flocks of canary-birds whistling in the island, and be in canary-seed up to our knees.”

“Of course you did not expect to see canary-birds in the streets of a city, unless you saw them in cages,” added the captain. “Didn’t the professor just tell you these birds came from the island of Alegranza?”

“I supposed he only said that to get off that jawbreaker. I couldn’t tell the names of more than two of these islands after he had given them all.”

“That was because you had not looked them up beforehand. Most of them are given on the chart of the North Atlantic.”

“I am not so much of a bookworm as some of the fellows.”

“Here comes Dr. Winstock,” continued Wainwright, as the captain’s barge of the Prince came up to the landing.

“I suppose he will convoy us here, as he has before,” added Scott. “I wonder if there is a place on the face of the earth where he has not been.”

“He was a surgeon in the navy for a good many years; and I suppose our men-of-war have visited all these islands.”

“Are you willing to take us in tow, doctor?” asked Scott, as the surgeon, attended by Capt. Sheridan and Lieut. Murray, approached them.

“I shall be very happy to do so if you won’t labor too hard with those tremendous jokes of yours,” replied the doctor, laughing.

“I don’t think I labor very hard at them. I try to be as solemn as an owl; but somehow I don’t get along worth a cent,” pleaded Scott.

“I should be sorry to have you break your back by struggling in the other direction; and I have not the slightest objection to your jokes; only labor not to be funny.”

“I strive not to do so; and I have rejected some of the best things ever thought of, because I found I had been studying upon them.”

“Doubtless you did wisely. But we will commence our walk,” added Dr. Winstock, as he led the way from the shore. “I suppose you noticed the appearance of the island from the ships?”

“I noticed it during the whole of my watch yesterday,” replied Scott; “and I thought it looked more like a busted volcano than any thing I ever saw before.”

“At a distance the mountain near the centre seems to be the whole island; and some of the pictures of the peak make it rise directly from the sea.”

“The whole thing looked like a cinder just raked out of a blacksmith’s forge. It don’t look so now.”

“It reminds me of Greece, where the hills are red and barren. There appears to be no room for the cultivation of any thing on this island, as you look at it from the sea; for we cannot see any thing of its beautiful valleys and plains enclosed by mountains. But the appearance is not very far from the fact, for not more than one-seventh of the whole surface of the island can be cultivated; but the arable land is immensely productive.”

“What do they raise here?” asked Murray.

“Grapes, which they manufacture into wine and brandy; mulberry-trees, with which they feed the silk-worm, and silk is one of the exports; potatoes, wheat, Indian corn, oranges, almonds; and the bees produce honey and wax for shipment. Cochineal is a very important article of commerce.”

“What is cochineal?” asked Scott. “I heard some one say it was made of bugs, and was used to color candy and things.”

“Some one told you correctly. Cochineal is a very valuable dye-stuff. It consists of the bodies of the _cocus cacti_, a little bug about the size of a grain of barley, but more in the shape of a dried pea. It belongs to the _cocidæ_, which are the most injurious of insects about plants, as in hot-houses. The orange-trees of the Azores were well-nigh destroyed by them in 1843; and Fayal, which usually exports twelve thousand boxes of this fruit, did not send off a single one that year.”

The party had paused on the street near the beach to hear the account; and the doctor pointed out a package of the cochineal, as an illustration of his subject.

“The _cocus cacti_ is so called because it feeds on a certain kind of cactus, which has to be cultivated as the food of the insect. The production of cochineal was carried on in Mexico, which is the country of the cactus, long before it was known to Cortes or any other European. Only the female insect is used in the manufacture of the color. The male has wings, but the female has none.”

“That’s so that they cannot go gadding about,” added Scott.

“Very likely; for the female fastens herself to a plant; and this branch is cut off with the creature upon it. The laborer forms a sort of soft nest on the cochineal plant; and, when the mother has been placed on it, she lays her eggs. The young when hatched spread themselves over the plant, feeding upon it, till they are in condition for use. As the insect produces several crops of eggs in a year, the young are soon ready to lay eggs; but they must be killed before they are in condition to do this, or it would injure the quality of the cochineal. The branch on which the insects are gathered is cut, and plunged into boiling water, in order to kill them. They are then collected and dried; and in this condition it takes seventy thousand of them to make a pound of cochineal.”

“Then it is the corpses of these bugs that is used to put the red streak into a stick of peppermint candy,” added Scott.

“Such is the fact; and it may cure you of the tendency to eat candy.”

“I think not, sir; for I can stand it if the corpses can,” answered Scott.

“We will walk up into the town,” continued the doctor, leading the way.

“The houses are very pretty,” said Sheridan, as he noticed the extreme whiteness of all the buildings.

“They are built of stone, and whitewashed.”

“Just as they serve erring office-holders at home.”

“They can’t make them white as these houses are.”

“Creation! there is a woman that looks like a squaw of a band of travelling Indians!--stove-pipe hat and all!” exclaimed Scott. “There is another with a load on her head.”

“The women are the principal beasts of burden in Teneriffe. They walk twenty miles in from the country, with a load of market-stuff on their heads,” added the doctor.

There was nothing very peculiar about the costume of the woman, except the hat, and a sort of cloth thrown over the head, and worn under the hat, which dropped over the arms and shoulders, like a shawl. The lower class of men wore short trousers, the front covered with goat-skin, a short jacket, and gaiters over their shoes. Many carried a staff as tall as the arm-pits. There were a few beggars about the streets, as there are in all Spanish towns; and their costume is as miscellaneous as those in Spain wear, except that the cloak is not endurable in this warm climate.

“This is the _Plaza de la Constitution_,” said the doctor as they entered a handsome square, bordered by a broad street, and liberally provided with street-lamps.

“I knew it was before you said a word!” exclaimed Scott.

“How did you know it?”

“Because the Spaniards all live on the constitution; and they have a square in every town that is big enough to hold one, with that name to it,” replied the joker, laughing. “I think they will use the constitution up one of these days, and have to fall back on the by-laws.”

“But this is a very pretty square; and the whole town is as neat as any thing we have seen,” added Sheridan. “These buildings are very fine; and I am sure I had no idea of finding any such a town among the Isles of the Sea.”

“The Spaniards here think a great deal of their city; and they have been liberal in the matter of public improvements,” replied the surgeon. “This piece of sculpture, which looks something like a monument when seen at a distance,” he continued, pointing to the object at one end of the enclosure of the square, “is a statue of the Virgin of Candelaria, representing her appearance to the _Guanches_, as the original inhabitants were called, and thus converting them to Christianity.”

The colossal statue is on the summit of the monument, which has four other figures at the base. At the other end of the plaza is a very handsome marble cross, which symbolizes the sanctity of the city name.

“This is the house in which was born the Marshal O’Donnel, Duke of Tetuan,” said the doctor, as he pointed to the building, a small and modest structure.

“He is a brave general in the French army. I was reading about him the other day. He was taken prisoner at Sedan last summer while we were in the north of Europe,” said Scott.

“Now, that is not a creditable joke,” added the surgeon. “You ought to know better.”

“But I don’t know any better.”

“You are thinking of Marshal McMahon. This is O’Donnel, another man entirely,” interposed the doctor.

“It was not a joke, but a blunder,” said Scott, blushing. “They have Irish names; and both of them seem to be out of their element in France and Spain. But who is O’Donnel, anyhow?”

“He isn’t McMahon, anyhow,--nor Gen. Howe. His ancestors were Irish refugees, who came here after the battle of the Boyne. He went into the Spanish army, and was a colonel at the age of twenty-five. He distinguished himself as a soldier, and for his services in Morocco was made Duke of Tetuan, which is a division of that country. He has had great influence as a statesman, having been minister of war, and president of the council. He had his ups and downs, as all Spanish statesmen have. He has headed an insurrection, and has been banished. He died in 1867. You must have heard of him when you were in Spain.”

“I think I did, sir; but I have heard about so many men, that I get them a little mixed.”

“Like the _plaza_ and the _alameda_ in all Spanish towns, this square is the great resort of the people in the evening. The band plays here, and the scene is quite lively,” continued Dr. Winstock. “When I was a young man I used to see a deal of flirting on this square; but since I have grown older I don’t notice such things. I was stationed on the coast of Africa, in a sloop-of-war, looking out for slavers; and the ship came up here to recruit the health of the men. One of our officers was smitten with a Santa Cruz beauty; and he adopted the custom of the country. He followed her about the streets, dogged her steps, in a manner that would have amounted to an outrage at home. At last he obtained an introduction to her; but this was hardly necessary, though his prejudices required it of him. But he only saw her in the plaza, and in the Prince Royal Square; and she evidently liked him as well as he did her. Not till they were engaged was he permitted by the custom of the islands to enter her father’s house, or hotel it was in this instance; for she was a _Canarienne_, and only a temporary resident.”

“Did the officer marry her?” asked Murray, with deep interest.

“Of course you would not be satisfied to have me omit the _denoûment_ of the novel,” added the surgeon, laughing. “He did marry her; and I think she is a dignified matron in the city of Philadelphia at this time.”

The party walked about the city till they had exhausted its sights, which was soon done. The doctor introduced his charge to the delicious chocolate to be had at the cafés on the plaza; but some of them declared that it was too thick, and preferred the ice-cream made from the snows of the peak of Teneriffe. The cicerone then proposed a long walk, which would occupy the rest of the day.

“I am ready, for one; but what do you call a long walk, doctor? Some folks think three miles is a long walk; but I don’t apply the phrase to any thing less than fifty miles,” replied Scott.

“I propose to go to Laguna, the ancient city of this island. It is five miles distant; and, as the town is two thousand feet above the sea, it will be up-hill all the way. If you are too tired to walk back, you can return in the _dilijencia_.”

The party gladly assented to the plan; and they started out of the city. In a short time they left the well-paved streets of the great road, which is fully equal to the royal highways of Spain.

“Laguna is a summer resort for the wealthy people of Santa Cruz; and the heat on the seashore, when the wind comes from the coast of Africa, is intense,” said the doctor, as the party trudged on their way. “But it is not the most desirable place on the island, for it is subject to heavy rains. Orotava, concerning which I gave Mr. Mapps some information for his lecture, is a much more desirable place; and one of these days, when a railroad is built to it, the citizens will live there in the summer, and do business in the city. We shall have an opportunity to visit the place.”

“What in the world is that growing in that field?” asked Scott, as he looked over the walls that bounded the road.

“What do you suppose?”

“I haven’t the least idea; but the plants must be sick, for they seem to be tied up in rags.”

“Those plants are cacti; and I think I have told you something about them to-day,” added the doctor. “The rags are tied about them to protect the insects, for they are full of them. It takes about three months for them to attain their growth, and be ready to lay eggs. They furnish the principal occupation of the laboring-classes since the failure of the vine. When I first came along here, this road was bordered with extensive and beautiful vineyards; but they have given place for the present to this not very handsome plant, which was brought here from Mexico.”

“Those are funny-looking houses!” exclaimed Murray, as they came upon a little collection of dwellings of the peasants.

“They are very comfortable houses for poor people,” replied the doctor; “a great deal better than many of the laboring-people of Spain occupy.”

Some of them were built of stone; others were evidently composed of poles set in the ground; and in the latter case the walls, as well as the roofs, were thatched.

“All the poor people do not have houses as good as these, but, like the gypsies of Granada, have to burrow into the rocks to make caves for dwellings. But this is a very soft climate, and the house is not of so much consequence as in Russia or Norway.”

“There is a woman with a load on her head! it looks like garden-sauce. There is another with a pile of wood on her crown,” cried Scott.

“Domestic animals are not very plenty in these islands; and the women seem to have a monopoly of the carrying-trade,” continued the surgeon.

“Hi! Hi!” shouted Scott, as they turned a bend in the winding road. “There are your beasts of burden!”

“What are they?” asked Sheridan.

“Camels; don’t you know them?”

“I never saw one before in my life,” replied the captain of the Prince.

“Here is a train of them, each with his bell. We are not far from the Great Desert, where these animals do all the carrying; and a considerable number of them have been brought to these islands.”

After a while the novelty of the scenes along the road wore off; and some of them declared that the country was not much different from Madeira. About two o’clock in the afternoon they reached Laguna, and spent a couple of hours in seeing its sights. A very fine organ in the cathedral was shown to them; and in another church there was a miraculous picture in which the subject wept on proper occasions. They were much interested in the museum, where they saw specimens of the implements used by the aborigines, who had no knowledge of the use of iron. Knives were made of pieces of lava; and horns were used for ploughs. The people embalmed the bodies of their dead after the manner of the Egyptians; and mummies enclosed in goat-skin were on exhibition.

About four the excursionists started on their return; and all of them walked, for, if any were tired enough to ride, they were too proud to say so. When they had gone about half of the distance, the stage passed them; but it immediately stopped, and Dona Maria and her father stepped out of it.

“Maria insists upon walking with the young gentlemen,” said Don Roderigue apologetically.

“I am dead of that stage!” protested the maiden.

She placed herself at the side of Scott, and walked along as briskly as any of the party. She wanted to talk English; and she was very proud of the progress she had made since the students had first come to her father’s _quinta_. Of course there was no such thing as fatigue after the fair girl joined the party. The officers were inclined to rally Scott a good deal on account of his relations with the fair Portuguese: but he did not appear to be smitten; and, as she did not understand English well enough to appreciate his humor, she was not the company he liked best.

The next day another excursion was made into the country in another direction; but it was about the same thing as before. The students wanted to make the ascent of the peak of Teneriffe; but the undertaking was too difficult, if not too dangerous, for the principal to sanction it. On the third day after the arrival of the squadron, it sailed again for Las Palmas. A couple of days were spent there; and the vessels proceeded to the north side of the island of Teneriffe, and anchored off the _Puerto de Orotava_.

Dr. Winstock was very anxious that the students should visit this place. Dr. Phelps, the passenger in the Marian, declared that he should spend the winter there; and he was of the opinion that he should bring a dozen patients with him, for, after he had carefully examined the situation, he was satisfied that it was superior to Fayal, Madeira, Nassau, or any other place, as a health resort for persons with weak or diseased lungs.

The doctor’s usual party walked out to the town, which is only a couple of miles inland; and Dona Maria insisted upon accompanying them.

“This town is enclosed by mountains, as you see, from three to seven thousand feet high, on all sides except the seaward. It is sheltered from all the bad winds,” said Dr. Winstock.

“But this is April; and we can’t tell how it feels in the winter,” suggested Dr. Phelps, who had joined his professional friend.

“But I have been here in the winter: the glass never falls below fifty, nor gets above eighty-two. It is the most uniform climate in the world,” replied Dr. Winstock with enthusiasm.

“But you mention thirty-two degrees variation.”

“You have over a hundred variation in the Northern States. But I mentioned the rarest extremes. No average for a month is below sixty-two, or above seventy-two. An invalid may sleep all the year round with his windows open; and fires are never needed.”

The two physicians talked over this to them interesting subject; and the students walked about the fields and the town. It was as near paradise as any thing on earth can be.

After remaining at this place for a couple of days, the fleet went to Santa Cruz de Palma for a day, and then sailed for Funchal on the 29th of the month.