He gestured at a spiny, thin tree with needles growing at an angle and quoted a proverb. "Every lizard knows which trees to climb." This is the gui-gui palm, which lizards stay clear of. "Some people are spinier than others." The moral: Approach different people differently.

Throughout these islands, there's a wide variety of medicinal and other uses for forest products. In Dominica, the Caribs plant about 300 types of medicinal herbs around their houses: something called zombie tobacco, which they make into a tea to treat colds; wild tannier, used to cure headaches; a local mint called ti diten, used to combat gas. Here, the Rastafarians make shampoo out of hibiscus flowers and also from grated cocoa pods. The gommier tree has a highly flammable resin; both wood and resin are very strong and are used in boatmaking. St. Lucia parrots favor this tree for nesting, since it often has a hollow trunk and the parrots can protect their clutch by hiding the nest three-quarters of the way down. Farther along the trail, we saw a barrel filled with a black liquid that the native craftsmen use to boil vines, which strips them of their bark; they are then made into baskets and other handicrafts.

We passed an abandoned handcart along the trail, now overgrown with moss—the unnatural gradually taken over by nature. Then, Rhikkie grabbed some long, trailing vines and disappeared over the cliff, doing his Tarzan imitation as he swung out and back. In the middle of the path was the massive trunk of a dead tree, pocked with tiny passageways and covered with ferns, a work of art that would not be out of place in a New York City living room. It was the remnant of a laurier canelle, harder than mahogany. "The bark, made into a tea, is known for its tremendous potential in the enhancement of male prowess," explained Rhikkie, winking.

Rich with lore as the rain forest is, there is a danger that the new generation may no longer be interested in hearing its stories. St. Lucia is struggling to balance development with the need to sustain its environment. When the Jalousie Hilton was built in the early 1990s, a number of St. Lucians, including Nobel laureate Derek Walcott, protested against it, uneasy at the prospect of mass tourism. But there is an entrepreneurial energy here now that keeps the roads humming with traffic. With the cricket World Cup coming for fifteen days in 2007, the island is in a building frenzy. The government is giving tax incentives to encourage the construction of hotel rooms to accommodate the anticipated visitors; even my taxi driver said that he was building ten rooms to rent out to the cricket-mad guests. Though large parts of the island have been declared nature preserves, the effect of this building boom on the St. Lucian environment remains to be seen.

I went the next morning to the International Pony Club, which rents horses—mostly a Creole-Thoroughbred mix. I rode one on a gentle amble through dry forest, low shrubbery, and cactus, onto a pleasantly uncrowded stretch of beach called Cas-en-Bas. I went with a group; we rode in single file. A faithful guide dog accompanied us all the way. There were some St. Lucians on this Easter Sunday, picnicking on salted mackerel. Just to the north is a secret beach, accessible by horse or four-wheel drive. It sounded inviting, but my gaze kept straying toward the hills that I had been walking the last couple of days. Green, in the eastern Caribbean, is a better reason to visit than blue.