For three hours this continued, and it was impossible to see anything of the country through which we passed.
Finally, however, as we reached a great crest, and looked down into the valley beyond, the sky was clear and we could see something of the scene about us.

The descent we were to make, and the slope in front, were covered with sugar-cane, broken here and there by great patches of pineapples.

With each plantation of sugar-cane there was a little shelter of poles under which was a sap-trough or boiling-tank, while at the side of and behind the shelter was a rude mill, the power for which was furnished by a yoke of oxen.

Boys fed the fresh cane between the crushing rollers, and the sap, as it ran out, was carried in little troughs to vats.

Not at all these little shelters was sugar-making in progress, as we passed, but over both slopes many columns of smoke indicated places where the work was going on.