"No; most plantations are in the ravines, between the hills. The sugar-cane requires heat. As soon as we are on the summit of this next hill we shall descend to it."
In half an hour they arrived at the end of their journey, when they stopped at an extensive range of low buildings, situated at the head of the valley, which descended to the sea,—now for the first time presented to their view since they had quitted Bridgetown. The owner of the estate was at the door to receive them. He was a tall, spare man, dressed in nankeen jacket and trousers, with a large-brimmed straw hat upon his head.
"Welcome, gentlemen, welcome. Kingston, how are you?" said he, as they stopped. "Now dismount, gentlemen; the boys will take the mules. Boy Jack, where are you? Where's Baby, and where's Bulky? Come here, you lazy rascals, and take the mules. Now then, gentlemen, I'll show you the way. I ordered breakfast on the table, as I saw you coming down the hill."
So saying, the old gentleman led the way through a portico. At the sight of strangers, the windows underneath were crowded with faces of various degrees of colour—eyes and mouths wide open, the latter displaying rows of teeth, so even and so brilliantly white, that they might cause a sensation of envy to many an English belle.
The party were ushered into a spacious and cool apartment on the ground-floor, where a table was covered with all the varieties of a tropical breakfast, consisting of fried fish, curries, devilled poultry, salt meats, and everything which could tend to stimulate an enfeebled appetite.
"Now, gentlemen, let me recommend you to take a white jacket; you'll be more at your ease, and there is no ceremony here. Boy Jack, where's the sangoree? This is a fine climate, Captain Berecroft; all you have to attend to is—to be temperate, and not to check the perspiration."
Boy Jack who, par parenthèse, was a stout, well-looking negro, of about forty years of age, now made his appearance with the sangoree. This was a beverage composed of half a bottle of brandy and two bottles of Madeira, to which were added a proportion of sugar, lime-juice, and nutmeg, with water ad lib. It was contained in a glass bowl, capable of holding two gallons, standing upon a single stalk, and bearing the appearance of a Brobdingnag rummer. Boy Jack brought it with both hands, and placed it before his master.
"Now, sir, will you drink?" said the planter, addressing Mr Berecroft.
"Thank you," replied Mr Berecroft, "I never drink so early in the morning."
"Drink! why this is nothing but swizzle. Here's your health, sir, I'll show you the way."