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"Entre le ciel qui brûle et la mer qui moutonne, Au somnolent soleil d'un midi monotone, Tu songes, O guerrière, aux vieux conquistadors; Et dans l'énervement des nuits chaudes et calmes, Berçant ta gloire éteinte, O cité, tu t'endors Sous les palmiers, au long frémissement des palmes."
We arrived in Esquimault Harbor, three miles from Victoria, on the evening of the fourth day, and drove to the town through a magnificent forest of Douglas spruce, with an undergrowth in open spots of oak, madrone, hazel, dogwood, alder, spiraea, willow, and wild rose, and around many an upswelling moutonne rock, freshly glaciated and furred with yellow mosses and lichens.
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