I see the _abanico_, with its enormous fan-shaped leaves; the wax-palm distilling its resinous gum; and the _acrocomia_, with its thorny trunk and enormous racemes of golden fruits.

By the side of the stream I guide my horse among the columnar stems of the noble _coeva_, which has been enthusiastically but appropriately termed the "bread of life" (_pan de vida_).
I gaze with wonder upon the ferns, those strange creatures of the vegetable world, that upon the hillsides of my own far island-home scarce reach the knee in height.

Here they are arborescent-- tree-ferns--rivalling their cousins the palms in stature, and like them, with their tall, straight stems and lobed leaves, contributing to the picturesqueness of the landscape.

I admire the beautiful mammey with its great oval fruit and saffron pulp.

I ride under the spreading limbs of the mahogany-tree, marking its oval pinnate leaves, and the egg-like seed capsules that hang from its branches; thinking as well of the brilliant surfaces that lie concealed within its dark and knotty trunk.
Onward I ride, through glistening foliage and glowing flowers, that, under the beams of a tropic sun, present the varying hues of the rainbow.
There is no wind--scarcely a breath stirring; yet here and there the leaves are in motion.