THE SUMMIT OF TRINIDAD.
On the following morning--November 21--as soon as breakfast was over,
the doctor and myself started for the shore. In view of the rough
climbing before us we did not burden ourselves with much baggage, but
set forth in light marching order. We dispensed with blankets, and, in
addition to the somewhat scanty clothing we had on, we carried merely
provisions for three days, consisting of some ship's biscuit, a few
strips of Brazilian _charki_ or jerked beef--rather rank--some
dried figs, a flask of rum, a tin bottle to hold water, one pannikin,
tobacco, pipes, and matches.
We could see from the deck that there was considerable surf on the
beach, and it was evident that we should not find the landing at the
pier to be so easy a matter as it often is.
Two of the paid hands pulled us off in the dinghy. When we were about
halfway to the shore we perceived a bright red object on an eminence
near the cascade. On getting nearer we distinguished this to be a
ragged red flag flying from a pole. This was a startling discovery for
us, and might signify that some rival expedition had landed on the
island.
We reached the pier and found a high swell rolling by it, while eddies
and overfalls round the outer end of it caused the boat to become more
or less unmanageable, driving her first in one direction, then in
another, so that she could not be brought very close to, without risk
of staving her in against the rocks.
Under these circumstances the only safe method of getting on shore was
to jump into the water. The boat was backed in towards the pier end,
the men pulling a few strokes ahead whenever a wave threatened to dash
her on to it. I stood in the stern and awaited a favourable
opportunity, then jumped overboard and clambered quickly up the pier
side before the next roller should wash me off. Then the boat was
backed in again, and the doctor repeated the performance.
We had no particular objection to the wetting we had received, but a
good many of our biscuits were converted into a pulp and our figs were
pickled with the sea-water.
So here we were at last safely on shore at Trinidad, both in high
spirits at the prospect before us, for we were eager to commence the
exploration that might result in who could tell what magnificent
results.
Climbing over the rugged top of the pier we descended on the beach,
which at high-water is partly overflowed, the pier being then
converted into an island. We scrambled over the rocks and scoriae to
the height by the cascade on which the flag was, and then our
suspicions were put at rest by what we discovered. A good-sized barrel
had been firmly jammed between the rocks in a prominent place and
filled with stones. A pole had been planted in the barrel, and from
this floated the red flag we had seen. It was in so ragged a condition
that it was impossible to say whether it had ever been a British flag
or not. Under it was a wooden tablet, on which was painted the
following inscription: 'H.M.S. "Ruby," February 26, 1889.' There was
also a bottle on the cask containing the cards of the commander of the
vessel, Captain Kennedy, and his wardroom officers.
Having thus satisfied ourselves that no enemy was in possession of the
island, we went to the cascade. This stream rises among the tree-ferns
at the summit of the mountain and rushes down the gully with a
considerable volume of water. This issue is, I should imagine,
perennial.
Then we commenced our ascent, which involved no light work. The gully
was excessively steep. We were climbing up a staircase of great rocks,
and often where there were insurmountable precipices we had to make
a _detour_ round the mountain-side, creeping carefully along the
steep declivities that overhung the cliffs, the rock and earth
crumbling beneath our feet as we went: for one of the most unpleasant
peculiarities of this island is that it is nowhere solid; it is rotten
throughout, its substance has been disintegrated by volcanic fires and
by the action of water, so that it is everywhere tumbling to pieces.
As one travels over the mountains one is ever starting miniature
landslips and dislodging great stones, which roll, thundering, down
the cliffs, gathering other companions as they go until a very
avalanche is formed. On this day the doctor, who was a little ahead of
me at the time, sent adrift a stone weighing a hundredweight at the
least, which just cleared my head as I stooped down to dodge it. We
were on a dangerous part of the mountain, and had it struck me it must
have impelled me over a precipice several hundred feet in height.
After this we followed parallel tracks wherever this was feasible.
The unstableness of Trinidad causes a perpetual sense of insecurity
while one is on the mountains. One knows not when some over-hanging
pinnacle may topple down. One great source of danger is that there are
many declivities which can be descended but not ascended, and it would
be easy to get hopelessly imprisoned at the foot of one of these. In
the 'Cruise of the "Falcon"' is described one really terrible
experience we went through. Our exploring party had found no water,
and the boy was practically dying of thirst. So, driven by urgent
necessity--for we saw by the configuration of the mountains that we
should almost certainly find water at the bottom of a certain
ravine--we proceeded to descend to it down a great slope, not of
loose _debris_, but of half-consolidated volcanic matter like
half-baked bricks, and very brittle.
This slope became steeper as we advanced and very dangerous, but it
was impossible to retrace our steps. When we attempted to ascend, the
mountain slid away under our feet, crumbling into ashes. It was like
climbing a treadmill. So we had to abandon this hope and go still
further down, lying on our backs, progressing inch by inch carefully,
one of us occasionally sliding down a few yards and sending an
avalanche before him. We knew not to the edge of what precipices this
dreadful way would lead us. Luckily we reached the bottom and found
water in safety. I determined not to get into any difficulties of this
description in the course of our present journey.
We gradually ascended the ravine, sometimes climbing on one side of
it, sometimes on the other, and occasionally wading through the water
at the bottom, according to which route was the safest.
The nature of the scenery around us was now grand in the extreme, and
had a weird character of its own that I have never perceived on other
mountains. The jagged and torn peaks, the profound chasms, the huge
landslips of black rocks, the slopes of red volcanic ash destitute of
vegetation, in themselves produce a sense of extreme desolation; but
this is heightened by the presence of a ghastly dead vegetation and by
the numberless uncanny birds and land-crabs which cover all the rocks.
This lonely islet is perhaps the principal breeding place for
sea-birds in the South Atlantic. Here multitudes of man-of-war birds,
gannets, boobies, cormorants, and petrels have their undisturbed
haunts. Not knowing how dangerous he is, they treat their superior
animal, man, with a shocking want of due respect. The large birds more
especially attack one furiously if one approaches their nests in the
breeding season, and in places where one has to clamber with hands as
well as feet, and is therefore helpless, they are positively
dangerous.
As for the land-crabs, which are unlike any I have seen elsewhere,
they swarm all over the island in incredible numbers. I have even seen
them two or three deep in shady places under the rocks; they crawl
over everything, polluting every stream, devouring anything--a
loathsome lot of brutes, which were of use, however, round our camp as
scavengers. They have hard shells of a bright saffron colour, and
their faces have a most cynical and diabolic expression. As one
approaches them they stand on their hind legs and wave their pincers
threateningly, while they roll their hideous goggle eyes at one in a
dreadful manner. If a man is sleeping or sitting down quietly, these
creatures will come up to have a bite at him, and would devour him if
he was unable for some reason to shake them off; but we murdered so
many in the vicinity of our camp during our stay on the island, that
they certainly became less bold, and it seemed almost as if the word
had been passed all over Trinidad that we were dangerous animals, to
be shunned by every prudent crab. Even when we were exploring remote
districts we at last found that they fled in terror, instead of
menacing us with their claws.
But the great mystery of this mysterious island is the forest of dead
trees which covers it and which astonishes every visitor.
The following account of this wood is taken from the 'Cruise of the
"Falcon,"' and as it was nine years ago, so is it now:--
'What struck us as remarkable was, that though in this cove there was
no live vegetation of any kind, there were traces of an abundant
extinct vegetation. The mountain slopes were thickly covered with dead
wood--wood, too, that had evidently long since been dead; some of
these leafless trunks were prostrate, some still stood up as they had
grown.... When we afterwards discovered that over the whole of this
extensive island--from the beach up to the summit of the highest
mountain--at the bottom and on the slopes of every now barren ravine,
on whose loose-rolling stones no vegetation could possibly take
root--these dead trees were strewed as closely as it is possible for
trees to grow; and when we further perceived that they all seemed to
have died at one and the same time, as if plague-struck, and that no
single live specimen, young or old, was to be found anywhere--our
amazement was increased.
'At one time Trinidad must have been covered with one magnificent
forest, presenting to passing vessels a far different appearance to
that it now does, with its inhospitable and barren crags.
'The descriptions given in the "Directory" allude to these forests;
therefore, whatever catastrophe it may have been that killed off all
the vegetation of the island, it must have occurred within the memory
of man.
'Looking at the rotten, broken up condition of the rock, and the
nature of the soil, where there is a soil--a loose powder, not
consolidated like earth, but having the appearance of fallen volcanic
ash--I could not help imagining that some great eruption had brought
about all this desolation; Trinidad is the acknowledged centre of a
small volcanic patch that lies in this portion of the South Atlantic,
therefore I think this theory a more probable one than that of a long
drought, a not very likely contingency in this rather rainy region.'
Some time after the publication of the 'Cruise of the "Falcon"' I came
across an excellent description of Trinidad in Captain Marryat's
novel, 'Frank Mildmay.' It is obvious from the following passage,
which I quote from that work, that the trees had been long dead at the
date of its publication, 1829:--
'Here a wonderful and most melancholy phenomenon arrested our
attention. Thousands and thousands of trees covered the valley, each
of them about thirty feet high; but every tree was dead, and extended
its leafless boughs to another--a forest of desolation, as if nature
had at some particular moment ceased to vegetate! There was no
underwood or grass. On the lowest of the dead boughs, the gannets, and
other sea-birds, had built their nests, in numbers uncountable. Their
tameness, as Cowper says, "was shocking to me." So unaccustomed did
they seem to man that the mothers brooding over their young only
opened their beaks, in a menacing attitude, at us as we passed by
them. How to account satisfactorily for the simultaneous destruction
of this vast forest of trees was very difficult; there was no want of
rich earth for nourishment of the roots. The most probable cause
appeared to me a sudden and continued eruption of sulphuric effluvia
from the volcano; or else by some unusually heavy gale of wind or
hurricane the trees had been drenched with salt water to the roots.
One or the other of these causes must have produced the effect. The
philosopher or the geologist must decide.'
Captain Marryat was evidently unaware that these dead trees are to be
found on the heights 3,000 feet above the sea-level as well as in the
valleys, or he would not have suggested salt water as the cause of
their destruction.
His description proves that the trees were dead at least sixty years
ago, and in all probability they had been dead for a long time before.
The latest record I have been able to discover which describes live
trees as existing on Trinidad is dated as far back as 1700. The
Ninepin and the Sugarloaf, now utterly barren, were then crowded with
trees of a great size.
Though some of this timber is rotten, a large proportion of it is not
decayed in the least, but when cut with the axe presents the
appearance of a sound, well-seasoned wood. It is gnarled and knotty,
extremely hard and heavy, its specific gravity being but slightly less
than that of water. It is of a dark reddish colour and of very close
grain.
I brought a log of it home and sent it to a cabinetmaker, who found
that it would take an excellent polish. On sending this specimen to
Kew I was informed that the wood 'probably belongs to the family
Myrtaceae, and possibly to the species Eugenia.' I find that this
species includes the pimento or allspice, the rose-apple, and other
aromatic and fruit-producing trees; so that desert Trinidad may at one
time have been a delicious spice-island.
The doctor and myself toiled on up the gully, whose slopes, as we
approached the summit, became less rugged, and here the ferns grew up
between the trunks of the dead trees, spreading wide their beautiful
fronds of fresh green.
When we had come to a spot a little below the source of the stream we
left the gully--not before we had drunk our fill and replenished the
bottle--and ascended the down where the tree-ferns grow thickest. The
soil is here very loose and presents the appearance of having been
quite recently ploughed up, while it is honeycombed with the holes of
the teeming land-crabs.
Soon we reached the summit of the plateau, where a pleasant breeze
stirred the ferns and we could now command a magnificent view not only
over the mountains we had climbed but over the weather side of the
island as well. I remembered the scene, for I had looked down from
here nine years before. On the weather side of the island the
mountains are even more precipitous than on the lee side; but, on the
other hand, they do not run sheer into the sea, for at their base
extend great green slopes continued by broad sandy beaches. Along all
this coast are shallow flats and outlying rocks on which the surf
breaks perpetually. Thirty miles out to sea rise the inaccessible
rocky islets of Martin Vas.
The plateau we were on was covered with a luxuriant vegetation, for
in addition to the tree-ferns there were large bushes of some
species of acacia--a tall thorny plant with flowers like those of
scarlet-runners, and bearing large beans--flowering grasses, and
various other plants. I collected specimens of these later on, which
were lost, however, with other stores shortly before we abandoned
the island, in consequence of the capsizing of our boat while
launching her in Treasure Bay.
It seemed strange to find so beautiful a garden, high up, almost
unapproachable for the perils that surround it, throned as it is on a
wilderness of rock rising up to it in chaotic masses and sheer
precipices from the shore far below. The sailors under Frank Mildmay
discovered this grove before me. In all his descriptions of places and
scenery Captain Marryat is singularly faithful to the truth, even in
the minutest details. In this respect indeed he is more conscientious
in his works of fiction than are most travellers in their presumedly
true narratives. The most minute and accurate description of Trinidad
that I have come across is in 'Frank Mildmay,' and it is easy to
identify every spot mentioned in that book. The author must himself
have visited this strange place, and his imagination was strongly
stirred by it. He gives us graphic pictures of 'the iron-bound coast
with high and pointed rocks, frowning defiance over the unappeasable
and furious waves which break incessantly at their feet.' His hero
also experiences the usual difficulty in landing; men and boat are
nearly lost, and in all his thrilling narrative there is not the least
exaggeration. All the events described might well have happened, and
probably did happen.
Of the grove he says:--'The men reported that they had gained the
summit of the mountain, where they had discovered a large plain,
skirted by a species of fern-tree from twelve to eighteen feet
high--that on this plain they had seen a herd of goats; and among them
could distinguish one of enormous size which appeared to be their
leader. They also found many wild hogs.'
We saw no goats or hogs, and I am confident that none are now left
alive. We did, however, in the course of our digging discover what
appeared to be the bones of a goat. It is well known that these
animals once abounded here. Captain Halley, of the 'Paramore Pink,'
afterwards Dr. Halley, Astronomer-Royal, landed on this island April
17, 1700, and put on it some goats and hogs for breeding, as also a
pair of guinea-fowl which he carried from St. Helena. 'I took,' says
his journal,'possession of the island in his Majesty's name, as
knowing it to be granted by the King's letters-patent, leaving the
Union Jack flying.'
The American commander, Amaso Delano, visited Trinidad in 1803. He
writes:--'We found plenty of goats and hogs. We saw some cats, and
these three sorts of quadrupeds were the only animals we saw on the
island.'
Possibly the land-crabs have gobbled all these up, for the only
quadrupeds we came across were mice.
Having attained the summit of the island, the doctor and myself took a
rest under the shade of the tree-ferns, while we partook of a frugal
lunch of biscuits and rum, the indispensable pipes, of course,
following.