Owing to the mountainous character of the country traversed, the scenery on this road is splendid. The speed attained by the trains would not alarm a nervous wreck, for though the length of the road is about 41 miles, the ascent from Puerto Plata to Santiago takes almost six hours and the return trip from Santiago five, in which the slow engines, the steep grades, the former rack-road section and the numerous long stops have equal shares of responsibility. The roadbed is very rough and the passengers are considerably shaken up, but the memory of what used to be helps to mitigate the discomfort. On one of my trips over the road, when a fellow-passenger made a remark about the severe jolting that almost shook us off our seats, an elderly Dominican gentleman observed: "My friend, you evidently never took a trip from Santiago to Puerto Plata before the railroad was built. Compared with travel then, this mode of conveyance is like being carried in angels' arms." As on the Samana-Santiago Road, the regular trains are mixed trains, that is, a freight and passenger together, usually looking like a freight train with a small passenger car attached. Except in unusually dull periods there is one daily train each way. The city of Santiago is about 600 feet above the level of the sea; from here the course is over a rich plain among tobacco farms and meadows full of cattle, for a distance of about twelve miles, until the foothills are reached and the ascent of the coast range is begun. Higher and higher along the mountainside, through country wilder and wilder, the train winds its way to the highest point of the road, 1580 feet above sea-level and 20 miles from Santiago, where a short tunnel pierces the mountain. The mountain pass at this point is 1720 feet above sea-level and is the lowest one in twenty miles. At the station on the other side of the mountain a fifteen minute stop is made for lunch. Then begins a rapid descent along a deep valley, on the wooded slopes of which little houses peer out between the trees. The town of Altamira, on a knob in the middle of the valley, is passed, and further down, near Bajabonico, a small sugar plantation. Another ascent, on which is the old rack-road section, is now reached; a powerful mountain engine is placed before the train and slowly works its way up. From the top of the ridge the scene is magnificent. Below, in the far distance, Puerto Plata is seen, a miniature city with tiny bright-colored houses, nestling at the foot of the great verdure-covered cone, Mt. Isabel de Torres; before it lies its almost circular harbor with what look like toy ships riding at anchor; the foam of the breakers on the reefs at the harbor entrance gleams in the sunlight; and beyond, in vast immensity extends the blue expanse of the ocean. On the final descent quicker time is made than anywhere else on the road.