As regards the animal world, the Mauritius is fortunate in possessing neither beasts of prey nor poisonous reptiles. The centipedes and scorpions found here are small; their sting is painful, but not dangerous. Ants are also not so numerous here as in India and South America. I could sometimes leave the insects I had collected for half a day together on the table, and the ants did not get at them, while in other hot countries these depredators would be devouring their prey within a few minutes. The musquitoes are troublesome enough, and sometimes drive strangers to desperation. Those who have been resident here for some years are said, like the natives, to enjoy a comparative immunity from their attacks.
The disagreeable kakerlak sometimes plays his pranks here, but is far less obnoxious than in other countries. They say that very exciting combats sometimes takes place between the kakerlak and the beautiful green fly called Sphex viridi-cyanea. I was not fortunate enough to witness such a fight, but only read the account of one in the “Voyages of Monsieur Bory de St. Vincent.” The fly flutters round the kakerlak until the latter becomes motionless, as if magnetized; then she seizes him, drags him to a hole already selected for the purpose, lays eggs in his body, stops up the hole with a kind of cement, and leaves her victim to his enforced companions, by whom he is quickly devoured.
I had almost forgotten to mention an object of interest in the district of Pamplemousse—a tomb, in remembrance of the pretty story of “Paul and Virginia,” the scene of which Bernardin de St. Pierre has laid in this island.
The month of April was already coming round, and, excepting in my excursions in the district of Pamplemousse and a few drives in and about Mocca, I had seen nothing of the Mauritius. I was loth to quit the island without at least visiting the most interesting points, but how to manage this was the question. The friendly judge, Mr. Satis, invited me to an excursion to the Tamarin waterfall. On the way we passed the country house of Mr. Moon, who had been invited by Mr. Satis to join our party.
We soon came to the waterfall, distant scarcely an English mile from Mr. Moon’s country house; and just opposite to the cascade, under some shady trees, Mr. Satis had taken care to have a good luncheon ready for us.
A more beautiful spot could scarcely have been chosen. We encamped on an elevated plateau, 1160 feet above the level of the sea; on one side was a gorge 800 feet deep, and at least 500 broad at its top, but narrowing toward the sea. Into this gorge the stream leaps headlong, forming seven beautiful waterfalls, two of them more than 100 feet in depth. It rushes, foaming in headlong haste, through a region clothed with the richest verdure, and closes in the neighboring sea its short but troubled course. The appearance of the fall is said to be much more majestic after long rains, when the smaller cascades become absorbed into one great fall, and the whole mass of water rushes down into its deep bed in only two leaps.
This delightful day will be always a bright spot in my memory, not only for the beautiful spectacle I saw, but for the pleasure I derived from my acquaintance with the amiable Moon family. I became as friendly with Mrs. Moon as if I had known her a long time, and very glad was I when she heartily invited me to stay some time in her house. Unhappily, the time fixed for my departure for Madagascar was at hand, and I could only spend three days with the family—three happy days, which made amends for many previous disappointments.
In Mrs. Moon I not only made the acquaintance of a very amiable but of a very accomplished lady; her talent for painting is quite remarkable. At the request of the directors of the British Museum she has made colored drawings of all the 120 different kinds of mangoes, and also of the medicinal plants found in the Mauritius.
Mr. and Mrs. Moon, and their equally obliging relative, Mr. Caldwell, were at once eager to show me the “lions” of their island, and the next day they took me to “Mont Orgueil,” from which the best view of the country and of the mountains can be had. On one side appears the “Morne Brabant,” a mountain extending far out into the sea, and connected with the main land only by a narrow tongue of earth; not far from this rises the “Piton de la Rivière Noire,” the highest mountain in the island, 2564 feet. In another direction the “Tamarin” and “Rempart” rear their heads; and in a fourth is to be seen a mountain with three tops, called “Les Trois Mammelles.” Very near these summits there opens a deep caldron, two of whose sides have almost completely fallen in, while the remaining two rise high and steep. Besides these mountains there are the “Corps de Garde du Port Louis de Mocca;” “Le Pouce,” with its narrow top rising suddenly up out of a little mountain plateau, like a thumb or finger; and the marvelous “Peter Booth.” This mountain takes its name from the first man who ascended to its summit, which was long regarded as inaccessible. Peter Booth managed to do this by shooting an arrow, with a strong twine thereto attached, over the summit. Luckily, the arrow fell upon an accessible spot on the other side of the mountain. To this twine a strong rope was fastened, which was thus drawn over the mountain-top and secured on both sides; and Peter Booth hauled himself up by it, and attained at once the summit and the honor of immortalizing his name. The last of the mountains seen from this point is the “Nouvelle Découverte.”
The mountains of this island are remarkable for their manifold and beautiful shapes. Some are in the form of broad perpendicular walls; others rise like pyramids; some are covered to their summits with rich forests, while others are only covered to half their height, and their high rocky points rise abruptly, smooth and bald, from amid the green sea of leaves. Beautiful valleys and deep gorges lie between, and above appears a cloudless sky. I could scarcely tear myself away from the charming picture, and the longer I gazed upon it, the greater the beauties I discovered.