In several places, durable bridges of wood were thrown over large water-courses; others were spanned by a single arch of stone.

In any part of the road, three horsemen might have ridden abreast.
This beautiful avenue--by far the best thing which civilization has done for the island--is called by foreigners "the Broom Road," though for what reason I do not know.

Originally planned for the convenience of the missionaries journeying from one station to another, it almost completely encompasses the larger peninsula; skirting for a distance of at least sixty miles along the low, fertile lands bordering the sea.

But on the side next Taiarboo, or the lesser peninsula, it sweeps through a narrow, secluded valley, and thus crosses the island in that direction.
The uninhabited interior, being almost impenetrable from the densely-wooded glens, frightful precipices, and sharp mountain ridges absolutely inaccessible, is but little known, even to the natives themselves; and so, instead of striking directly across from one village to another, they follow the Broom Road round and round.
It is by no means, however, altogether travelled on foot; horses being now quite plentiful.

They were introduced from Chili; and possessing all the gaiety, fleetness, and docility of the Spanish breed, are admirably adapted to the tastes of the higher classes, who as equestrians have become very expert.