Identifier: roundblackmansga00colv (find matches)
Title: Round the black man's garden
Year: 1893 (1890s)
Authors: Colvile, Zélie Isabelle Richaud de Préville, lady
Subjects: Africa -- Description and travel
Publisher: Edinburgh and London, W. Blackwood and sons
Contributing Library: Mugar Memorial Library, Boston University
Digitizing Sponsor: Boston University

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hole place deserted; there hadevidently been no troops there for some time. Wewere afterwards told that this elevated spot was themost unhealthy part of the whole island, owing toits being exposed to the winds that sweep acrossthe marshes. Continuing our walk some distancealong a good road shaded by large overhangingtrees, we arrived at a collection of native huts, nearwhich was a little cafe kept by a Frenchman wholooked wretchedly ill. He sold us some cocoa-nutmilk, and talked to us in a desponding manner ofthe vanished prosperity of Sainte Marie. Betweenthe huts and the sea fringing the shore is a lovelyavenue of cocoa-palms, under which sat a group ofnatives, from whom we bought some leechees, adelicious slightly acid fruit contained in a hardshell, which on being removed reveals a substancethat from its translucent appearance might be takenfor a hard-boiled plovers egg. In a little gardenclose by I noticed a splendid cacao-shrub, its reddishpointed pods full of my favourite nibs.
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•lile des prunes. 105 As there did not seem mucli to make it worthwhile walking any longer in the hot sun, we retracedour steps and returned on board. This island ispretty, but without any particular interest, and issaid to be a hotbed of fever; even at the time ofour visit—the end of the dry season—it was extra-ordinarily green, and one could hardly imagine towhat further degree of rankness the vegetationwould reach by the end of the rains. The next night was spent at anchor, a great reliefafter the last restless one at sea! Early on thefollowing morning, however, we started again, andtwenty-four hours steaming brought us to Tama-tave, November the 8th, 6.30 a.m. Just beforeentering the harbour we passed Llle des Prunes,whose green foliage offered a striking contrast tothe withered tree-trunks, evidences of the force ofthe hurricane which had swept over it in 1885,blowing off the roofs of houses, uprooting andkilling the trees, and driving on shore the ships atanchor in the har

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