There are two sorts of cane: the _criolla_ or native cane, which, I was told, was first imported from the Canaries by Columbus on his second voyage. It is considered the least excellent in quality, and is not largely cultivated by the planters. They leave it to the negroes, who consume vast quantities of molasses--when they get the chance. The _Otahite_ is the finest cane. It is very thick, and grows to a height of from six to sixteen feet. As in the case of all the cane family, the stem is divided into angular joints, which vary in length as the cane tapers upwards. The moist, soft pith contains the sweet juice, which, when pressed out by machinery, is converted into sugar. The sugar harvest commences late in January, and ends in May, the planting season taking place during the breaks in the wet season, which lasts from June to the end of November. The cane is not grown from seed, as is generally stated, but from slips taken from the top of the plant, the lower leaves of which are stripped off. When stuck in the ground at regular intervals, to a depth of about two inches, the cane slips soon take root, and in about six months grow to maturity, sometimes, but very rarely, attaining a height of twenty feet. The field we first visited was a very large one, the ripe canes, of a pale green turning to grey, undulating over it to a considerable distance. There must have been some thirty or forty men, women, and children working in this plot, under the supervision of a mounted over-seer. The men cut the cane with a small hatchet, the women gathered it together and tied it into bundles, whilst some of the negroes and most of the children peeled off the leaves, which are good for fodder, or hoisted it on to the high-wheeled carts, each drawn by four prodigiously long-horned oxen, of the breed so dear to the Roman art student. The sky above was hazy, almost an English grey, and everything was subdued to its tone, whereby for once we avoided that glare which, in warm climates, so often destroys the effect of those soft and fleeting tints of "middle distance." Some dozen carts piled with the silver-grey canes filed off in a slow procession down the white-sanded road towards the _hacienda_, the noble-looking oxen occasionally lifting their heads to give vent to their feelings, and express their opinion of things in general, by a prolonged bellow. Each team was led by a negro, with a wide straw hat on his head, and wearing only a pair of white drawers. Bobbing up and down among the uncut canes we could see the bright turbans of the negresses, and occasionally a little ebony imp would turn an impossible somersault right in front of us, and then drop on his knees in the expectation, promptly realised, of a liberal donation, as the price of his queer antic.