The Barranco del Infierno, from its great depth and narrowness, is considered worth visiting. Its entrance, formed of two huge rocks, like gates, opens on the flat, cultivated plain surrounding Adeje. Near the summit of the pillar of this "gate" we stopped to see the view stretched out beneath. A path, steep and winding, leads downwards from this point to the plain, which, in apparently unbroken regularity, stretches thence to the sea. Small bays, edged with white foam, which is again surrounded by deep blue sea, form the coast-line beyond Adeje, lying midway across the plain, and surrounded by green crops, like an oasis in the desert. Glas says that in his time the Count of Gomera had a thousand negroes as slaves to cultivate the sugar-cane in this plain of Adeje, so it must then have been very well watered, as it is now.

The walls of the Barranco del Infierno are precipitous and rocky, often in many places a thousand feet high; wild dragon trees grow between the spurs, and what in the rainy season must be large waterfalls, but now reduced to cascades, come down in leaps between the cliffs.

Leaving this splendid bird's-eye panorama, we crossed some rocks burning with the heat of the sun, and destitute of the most infinitesimal amount of shade. Presently our path went round a hillside, which led us into a valley in the hills, partially cultivated, and with a trickling stream meandering at its bottom, the water of which was guided in different directions for the purposes of irrigation. A few trees straggled over the hillside. One gigantic pine threw its welcome shade across our path, tempting us to call a halt and partake of lunch. These old trees are few and far between, and stand in these upper valleys like sentinels, the monarchs of past forests.

This pine proved, however, to be only a foretaste of more to come. Turning a corner soon after leaving it, we entered what had once been a pine forest, but only a few isolated trees remained. Coming upon a little house all by itself, we rode into the courtyard. The woman invited us to enter out of the sunshine, so we dismounted. The house was miserably poor-a mere hovel; but misery in a warm climate is never so acute or apparent as in a cold. The rags and tatters

which partially covered the limbs of the little girl and her two brothers were unfelt as a matter of hardship; they only served the exigencies of decency. In an inner room the woman showed us a quantity of retama bushes, brought from the mountains, with which to feed the cows. The animals of Tenerife are very fond of retama leaves.

After having crossed the head of the Barranco del Infierno we hastened on our way, as it was getting late, and we had still some distance to go before reaching Vilaflor. The track continued through pine trees, the ground was tolerably level, and the path smooth, so we made rapid progress. Nevertheless night fell before we reached our destination. Fortunately there was moonlight, and the twilight does not fall so quickly at this height as in the valleys near the sea. The last half-hour of our journey the road descended. Finally, passing a cistern and watercourse, we reached a hillock overlooking the town, where, being within moderate reach of both town and water, we lit our fire, pitched the tent, and prepared a refreshing cup of tea.

The next morning we were late risers, but we soon found engrossing occupation in admiring our situation, watching the natives gathered around us, consulting with Lorenzo about guides for the Peak and the day the schooner might be expected at Adeje or Guia, getting food for our journey, and paying for it. This latter I enter with intent as a separate item. The Canary Islands, above all other islands or mainlands, are blessed or otherwise with a superfluity of old and new coinage. The Spanish currency is supposed to be decimal. It is divided into pesetas, reales, and centimos. Instead, however, of counting simply by the first and last, which are decimals, the reckoning is usually made by reales only. The peseta is equivalent to about a franc, or tenpence, and the real to twopence-halfpenny, so that, in order to reduce an account of say thirty reales to pesetas, it must be divided by four instead of by ten, as it would of course be in decimals. If this were all, however, it would not matter, but the old coinage of tostones and cuartos is also used. A toston equals about a shilling. There are also half-tostones and quarter; the latter, however, are always

called fiscas. Besides these, there are others of equal value, but irregular in shape and size, which were thus stamped and issued from the Peruvian mint. They are commonly

ing to the Government.

called cut coins, and are really irregular pieces of pure silver stamped without being shaped, not, as is generally supposed, perfect coins which have been mutilated. They will soon be valuable, as the Spanish Government is calling them in. Owing to their being pure silver, they can be melted and re-issued mixed with alloy, as current coin, thus causing a savTo these must be added the dollar, of which the toston forms a fourth part and the peseta a fifth. The old copper coins called cuartos are puzzling beyond measure, and nothing will make them pair evenly with the new. Forty-two of them equal a toston, and thirtyfour a peseta. Not content with coins in the flesh, there are several of the imagination as well. The peso is three shillings, but has no equivalent in money; and the real de plata, which is fourpence-halfpenny, is likewise only a shadow. When a countryman tells you that what you have bought costs a peso and five reales de plata, and you bring out of your pocket tostones, pesetas, reales de vellon, fiscas, centimos, and cuartos, besides dollars and half-dollars, the result is an utter collapse of the mind to grasp the amount. Many foreigners who have lived in the islands for years, not having travelled therein, confess that they do not yet know the coinage.

We ate with zest our dinner, consisting of excellent sopa de arroz (rice soup) and puchero, the national dish. It was a pleasant situation for a camp. We were on a promontory, or hillock, whose three sides next the town were steep and care

* I took a number of these coins to the coin-room in the British Museum, and after a careful examination, the authorities there decided that they were stamped when in this shape, and were not whole coins cut after being stamped. They have none of these coins in the Museum.

fully terraced.

Towards the north-the side by which we had entered the ground sloped gently until it ended abruptly in the bluff on which we had pitched. Two fine specimens of the Canary pine, one of them hollow, like gigantic sentinels, guard the footpath which runs between them, westward of our tent. Down at our feet lies the little village of Vilaflor, so immediately beneath us that we can see its streets. Our men save themselves journeys by standing on the brink of the rock overhanging the town, and shouting their wants to any passing inhabitant in the streets below. Vilaflor is the name of the village, and Chasna is the district. The town is delightfully situated, enclosed on the north, east, and west by mountains, whilst southward the land slopes away until it meets the sea some miles off. The town itself is clean and peaceful-looking, the walls white, and the roofs of red tiles. The plaza and a church with an open belfry, in which hang two bells, are its principal features. Scarcely a soul is visible. The views around are of a bird's-eye nature; we do not seem to be 4,000 feet above the sea. Yet the atmosphere is decidedly cooler, and we could imagine no better resort during the summer for the inhabitants of the towns than this pretty village. Those who long for a wintry climate can get it in Chasna, where in winter the snow lies as it does in an old-fashioned English winter. A mineral spring, the only one in Tenerife, is here, pine woods and the Cañadas are within walk or ride, whilst the paths are not of that stony nature which renders the former unpleasant and the latter dangerous. The fruits of the temperate zone come to perfection in this district, and an Englishman might pluck apples in his orchard, regardless of the fact that the latitude is 28° 10'.

Further discussions as to our guides followed. Two contended for the honour-or the money-and we could not decide which was the better. The best guide—a man called Ramon-was absent, unfortunately, and the man we chose turned out very indifferent indeed. The two came and sat or stood by our fire or hung round us all day, while we tried to get information about them and their capabilities, and failed utterly. The only clue we had was that one was known to the alcalde, so we chose him.