Then we began to tackle other lines; but, you see, nearly all the boats come from New Zealand or the Cape, and this is the favourite time for going home; also there is the attraction of the Paris Exhibition. So I cannot tell you on how many ships we have applied for berths, and always in the end received the news, "Every berth full."
Personally I did not mind, as I enjoyed every day on the island; but it was awkward for some things, and eventually we had to decide to sail on board a small cargo steamer that calls at Orotava instead of at Santa Cruz, and carries a few passengers home at a leisurely speed. But before I tell you of the voyage, I must tell you a little about our last few days on the island.
One day we drove over to Icod, a pretty little village about two hours' drive from Orotava. Much coffee is grown at Icod, and also plenty of fruit--oranges, lemons, figs, &c. We rode from there to Gerachico (a pretty ride along the shore), where a whole village was engulfed when the Peak last erupted; but it is now again built over, and we could not see much of interest remaining.
Señora Carolina reigns at the small Icod hotel, and made us very comfortable. But neither she, nor any one we met in the place, spoke any English; so it was good practice for us, and our Spanish came off better than I thought it would.
We decided not to climb the Peak, as you cannot do it from Orotava without spending a night somewhere up the mountain; but one day M. and I joined a party for a day on the Cañadas--the range from which the Peak rises. We mounted our ponies at 7 A.M. in brilliant sunshine, and at different points picked up our friends, till we were a party of ten, with a crowd of attendant boys to carry our lunch, &c. The first part of the ride was easy and pleasant; then, as we got higher, it became more of a scramble over loose stones, that any English pony would have said were only fit for a goat to be asked to walk over. Just as the path was becoming really steep we left the sunshine, and found ourselves in a thick bank of clouds, cold and damp, and had to go very cautiously, in single file. The chattering pony-boys were very silent (their spirits are easily damped), and said it was "_mucha frio_." Soon we emerged above the clouds into a scorching sun, and, finding a piece of fairly level ground, some of us took a little canter to try to get warm; but we came to a sandy place, and there Leaña took it into her head to lie down and roll. I saw what she was up to, and managed to roll out of her way; so my saddle was more damaged than I was. But as my clothes were very wet with the mist, the sand adhered!