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 . 7, 1861.] appeared, and gradually heaths, arbutus, and Portugal laurel closely approaching small trees in size. The plains were reached at half-past eight, and the horses again mounted, this time with joy and thankfulness, for every one was very tired. Pushing on for Orotava, the Estancia de la Sierra was gained at ten, and a short halt called while the muleteers dispatched the débris of the provisions. Having satisfactorily concluded their operations, a final start was made for La Villa, which, being in the direct road to Santa Cruz, is a much better place to call at on the return journey than El Puerto: the carriage, therefore, had been ordered to wait at La Villa.

As mentioned before, the track from El Puerto was bad indeed, but that to La Villa was execrable; it could only be compared to a rut, into which huge pieces of rock had been sprinkled promiscuously; the horses, however, with marvellous sagacity, picked out their way, and kept their legs, so that no accident occurred. It should be remarked that, in general, bits are not used for the horses, but a sharp iron band across the nose does duty instead; it is not nearly so good as a bit for picking up a stumbling horse, because it bends the head down instead of elevating it; but on the whole, it appears to punish less than the heavy torture iron usually forced into the mouths of Spanish horses.

For upwards of two hours the track was of the vilest, but in spite of a powerful sun, was patiently jogged over. At length the party were cheered by signs of cultivation and a better path, and in process of time—namely, nearly two p.m.,—dismounted at the door of the Fonda, in La Villa, thoroughly tired, having been 22 hours scrambling amongst rocks, up hill and down dale, on foot and on horse-back, alternately wetted by the clouds, dried and frozen by the cold, nearly boiled by sulphur cauldrons, and finally stiffened and scorched by fatigue and a broiling sun.

Ablutions and a change of apparel proved somewhat refreshing, and the carriage being ready, the last half of the journey was commenced at 2.30, in the hope of arriving on board by sunset.

The time from La Villa to Santa Cruz may be said to have been spent in constant excitement. The poor boy, whose accident has been recorded above, had been pronounced out of danger; the coachman, therefore, was in the highest spirits, which he kept up to boiling point at each stopping-place, while narrating the boy’s safety. As may readily be imagined, he soon became utterly reckless, and drove at full gallop, and, as it would be hard to find better cattle, the carriage flew along, down hill and round the curves, on two wheels. It was all the same, on went the vehicle as if bewitched, keeping its equilibrium by a miracle. When the curves failed, a large rock or other obstacle on the road was selected to drive over, and it was no fault of the driver that all his passengers were not shot out from their seats on more occasions than one. The fellow also amused himself by pointing out a brother coachman who had capsized the English consul. This worthy, on being interrogated at one of the stoppages, narrated the story with the most charming frankness. It appears that the English consul had offended the rascal, who therefore determined to do him to death; seizing, therefore, a favourable opportunity, the unfortunate consul was trundled over a deep curve by his friend the driver, but, malgré the odds, escaped with only a few bruises. The carriage rattled through Laguna at a gallop. Jehu would not abate his speed one jot, but, on the contrary, amused himself by shaving a camel, or grazing a house at the corner of a street, or avoiding children at play by a hair’s breadth. Taking all the circumstances of the case into consideration, it will not be wondered at that when the driver called out “Here we are!” every one responded “Gracios a Dios!”

Thus ended a very pleasant trip to the Peak of Teneriffe, the more gratifying because the object for which it was undertaken was successfully carried out. The party were, undoubtedly, the highest of her Majesty’s subjects on her birthday, and from no place, whether in or out of her dominions, did heartier good wishes for health, happiness, and long life emanate than from the summit of the highest “Peak” in the world.

On board the Fury also the occasion was improved to demonstrate the affection and respect universally felt by Englishmen for their Queen. The ship was dressed in mast-head flags, and each man had something—not champagne, however,—with which to drink long life and happiness to her Majesty, while, at noon precisely, a royal salute was fired. The Spanish authorities had been informed that every honour would be paid on the Queen of England’s birthday by the man-of-war in the roads; an officer, therefore, was sent off to inquire the exact programme, as his Excellency