One notices, in the tangled undergrowth in the forests, in the ever-brilliant foliage of the wooded heights and green valleys, a something that one had not noticed in the other islands. The place is indescribably foreign. It is not like the countries we have already seen, yet it is not unlike them. Trinidad is a West Indian island, but in appearance it more closely resembles the South American mainland than any of its sister-lands in the Caribbean group. Naturally so, since the salt-water isthmus that separates the land from Venezuela at one point only measures seven miles. Save for that seven miles of blue sea, Trinidad would be a part of the romantic continent whose imprint and [Illustration: NEVIS] nature is written in vivid colours throughout the island’s tangled forests and deep, still lakes. The enchanting island has a history brimming with romance. Its story contains the names of Columbus, its discoverer; Raleigh, who visited the place in search of a gold mine, and many of our famous old British sea-dogs. Trinidad started of course by being annexed to Spain; then France took the place and held it until just over one hundred years ago, when England claimed it as her own. The white inhabitants to-day are members of these three European races. The coloured people are pure negroes, Indian coolies, and Spanish, French and English half-breeds. The latter element is particularly strong. Consequently, in Trinidad there are many political agitators. Visitors will land from their mail steamer at Port of Spain and find themselves in a foreign-looking British West Indian capital, in an atmosphere of tramways, telephones, suffocating heat, negroes, and spasmodic bustle and noise. It is a town containing buildings reminiscent of its Spanish, French, and British periods of Government. Houses in all the styles of each nationality will be found on every side. Each particular style of architecture has of course been West-Indianised--altered for comfort’s sake, and so stage-managed, as it were, that it is converted into style suitable for a living place in the fearful heat of the hottest island in the Indies. The tourist will find the market-place and a few interesting churches. He will feel that he has been landed into a hothouse. The atmosphere of Trinidad is like that of an English hothouse on a scorching summer-day. The brilliant foliage and the constant banks of gaudy blossoms will help to support the illusion. He will pant for breath and speedily seek the cool shelter of a heavy verandah. It may be that at first he will wish that he had not landed. But after an hour or two he will have become accustomed to the curiously-suffocating heat, and the beauty of the place will evidence to him the wisdom of his coming.