The most striking trees in appearance are the tall, dark pines, of which there are several kinds. Then there are tangled masses of prickly pear (the common cactus). The prickly pear is a perfect weed. It grows anywhere and everywhere, and once it has taken root, it is almost impossible to kill it. If a leaf be broken off and allowed to fall to the ground, it takes root where it falls and starts a new plant. It is used for making hedges, and the boldest boy would think twice before he tried to make his way through its numerous thorns and poisonous bristles. Some of the spines are so strong that they can be used as pins, and a certain writer[D] says that a friend of his “used to save the buying of pins on the part of the ladies of his family by going out to gather the spines of the most prickly variety of cactus.” [D] Barry. CHAPTER XI THE VENDETTA We know that in very early times, when a man felt himself injured, he took the law into his own hands and punished the offender--that is, if he were strong enough. Later on, when men got more civilized, this was not permitted, but offenders were punished by being fined. The fine was paid to the injured person or to his family--so much for an eye, so much for a leg, and so much for a life. Thus we read in the laws of Ethelbert: “If one man strike another with the fist on the nose--three shillings. If the eye be struck out, let boot (_i.e._, amends) be made with forty shillings.” So in due time law took the place of private vengeance, and now, throughout almost the whole of Europe, if a man is wronged, he seeks redress in the public courts of law. This, however, is not yet the case in Corsica. There many people carry out their own punishments in their own way, or, in other words, they shoot their foes. Hence murders are common. At one period of Corsican history it is said that there were 28,000 murders in thirty years. Things are not nearly so bad as that now. The practice of taking private revenge is called the _vendetta_. [Illustration: MULES DRAWING TIMBER. _Page 75._] The Corsicans are quarrelsome by nature, and often, when excited by wine or by losses at cards, they will stab and shoot each other. Then they are rather fanciful about what they consider insults. If a neighbour’s dog strayed into a garden and rooted up the cabbages, this might perhaps be considered as a personal insult, especially if the neighbour were not friendly, and the owner of the dog would be in fear of his life. The offended one would hide behind a rock or a tree, and when a favourable opportunity occurred he would put a bullet through his enemy.