—— . SSeS see =e = nS: SS sa Ss = CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY FROM A FUND RECEIVED BY BEQUEST OF WILLARD FISKE 1831-1904 FIRST LIBRARIAN OF THIS UNIVERSITY : 1868-1883 maa olin ine oe ‘ 2) a 4 re AN re ° 9 Q Oy fi 3° a Zz re q n _ a a MS CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES: THE ADVENTURES OF A NATURALIST IN THE LESSER ANTILLES. BY FREDERICK A. OBER. “‘To-morrow I sail for those cinnamon groves, Where nightly the ghost of the Caribbee roves.’” | EDINBURGH: DAVID DOUGLAS 1880 AS09455 TO NATHANIEL H. BISHOP, AUTHOR OF ‘“‘A THOUSAND MILES’ WALK,” ‘‘VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE,” ETC., This Book is Dedicuted BY HIS FRIEND, THE AUTHOR. PREFACE. —108{00——— TuE islands to which reference is made in the fol- lowing chapters are those known as the Caribbees, or Lesser Antilles, extending over eight degrees of latitude, between Porto Rico and Trinidad, connect- ing the Greater Antilles with the continent of South America. This archipelago, containing the loveliest islands in the western hemisphere, with settlements ante-dating Jamestown and Plymouth, with structure and physi- cal features interesting to men of science the world over, has yet remained, as at the period of discovery, almost an unknown field to the naturalist. In 1876, under the auspices of the Smithsonian In- stitution, I undertook the exploration of these islands with the especial view of bringing to light their ornithological treasures. The investigation covered a space of nearly two years, during which time I visited mountains, forests, and people, that few, if any, tourists ever reached before. It was only by leaving the beaten path of travel, and taking to the woods, that I was enabled to accomplish what I did Vv v1 PREFACE. in the way of discovery ; for which the curious reader is referred to the Appendix, and to the various cat- alogues of new birds discovered, published by the National Museum. While around the borders of each island there is a cleared belt of fertile land, sometimes densely popu- lated, and on the coast are often large villages and even Cities, the interior is generally one vast forest, covering hills and mountains so wild and forbidding of aspect that few clearings are made in them save the “provision grounds” of the negroes and Indians. Many tourists and writers have visited these islands, have stopped a while in the towns, have interviewed the natives, and then have hastened off to England or the States, and written books about them. Several naturalists of note have likewise visited the shores of these interesting isles, but, Jike the writers afore- mentioned, have never penetrated beyond the line of civilization. Conjecturing that the public have had enough of descriptions at second hand, from writers’ who are more ears than eyes, I have hastened away from town and city, and sought an early opportunity for taking my readers to the forest, where everything reposes in nearly the same primitive simplicity and freshness as when discovered by Columbus, nearly four centuries ago. I took my camera with me, and whenever a new bit of scenery presented itself, a beautiful tree, or cas- PREFACE. vil cade, or a composition peculiarly tropical, I photo- graphed it; and my publishers have used as subjects for illustration’ only these photographs from nature, which have never been presented before. As with the illustrations, so with the sketches in type. I have but photographed the scenes I visited and the people I saw and lived among. Now and then, in follow- ing a thread of history that connects these islands and people with an almost forgotten past, I have availed myself of the language of the historian, but in rare instances. My only claim is, that these sketches are original, and fresh from new fields — new, yet old in American history, — and that they are accurate, so far as my power of description extends. They have not, like the engravings, had the benefit of touches from more skillful hands, and they may be crude and unfinished, and lack the delicate shadings and half- tones a more cunning artist could have given them; but they are, at least, true to nature. Though the voyage to and from these islands was fraught with incident, there was little that did not savor of the ordinary sea-voyage, hence it has been left out, and the narrative begins and ends in the Caribbees. Beside this, there yet remains much material which has not been drawn upon, comprising more of pure adventure, which, should public and publishers pass a favorable verdict upon this, may form a volume for another year. BEVERLY, Mass., October, 1879. CONTENTS. ae CHAPTER I. DOMINICA. The Mysterious Ocean Current. — Dominica and Columbus. — Roseau and Anthony Trollope. — A West-Indian Town. — Introduction to Tropical Scenes. —The Mountains. — The First:Camp ss gs 6 s & @ HoH Je ee oe wm a CHAPTER II. CAMP LIFE IN THE TROPICS. A March Morning. — Matin Music. —Jean Baptiste. — Sonny. —Breakfast in the Mountains. — Queer Customs. — De- lightful Temperature for March. — The Hunt for Birds. —A Day’s Duties. — Strange Birds and Scenery. — The “ Trem- bleur.”— A Precipice.— An Organ-Bird, the ‘‘ Mountain Whistler.” — Bird Notes. —My Chasseurs. — Land Crabs. — Ardent Assistants. — Twilight . eh ae a ey ah CHAPTER III. IN AND ABOUT MY FIRST CAMP. The Caribbean Sea, its Deceptive Appearance and Placidity. — My Neighbors, the Mountaineers, their Sayings and Wise Saws. —A French Missionary needed. — The Iguana and its Flesh. — Glimpses of Mrs. Grundy. — A Work of Art. — Cruising for Crustaceans. — The ‘‘ Grives.” — Marie. — * Long-Tailed Decapods. —‘‘ Where Crabs grow.” — ‘“‘ Wait 1X PAGE 12 x CONTENTS. there, Monsieur.” — Astonished.— Shocked. — The River. — Drenched. — A Naiad. —A Victim to Science. — Food for the Godsie~ ne it a! eee ee ee oe Ga Reese CHAPTER IV. THE SUNSET-BIRD. — HUMMING-BIRDS. The Crater-Tarn.— Temporary Camps. — The “Soleil Cou- cher.” — ‘Hear the Sunset.”— A Bird possessed of the Devil. — The Capture.—A Species New to the World. — Four Species of Humming-Birds. — The Garnet-Throat and Gilt-Crested. — Dan, the Hunter. — Catching Birds with Bread-Fruit Juice. —In Captivity. — Death. — Their Food. — Methods of Capture. — The Humming-Bird Gun. — The Aerial Dance. «6 1. 1 ee ee ee ee ee CHAPTER V. THE BOILING LAKE OF DOMINICA. A Wild Cat.— Tree-Ferns.— Mountain Palms.—A Rare Hum- ming-Bird. — The Valley of Desolation. — Misled by a Bot- tle. — Boiling Springs. — Hot Streams. — Sulphur Baths. — The Solfatara. — Building the es — Cooking Breakfast ina Boiling Spring. . .. . iS a ae BOS CHAPTER VI. AMONG THE CARIBS. Their Peaceful Life. — Fruits and Food. — The Second Voyage of Columbus. — Discovery of the Caribs.—Fierce Nature and Intelligence of the ‘‘ Cannibal Pagans.” — Unlike the Natives of the Greater Antilles. — The Carib Reservation in Dominica. —My Camp in Carib Country. — Two Sov- ereigns. — The Village. —The Houses. — Catching a Cook. —A Torchlight Procession. — Lighting a Room with Fire- Flies. — ‘‘ Look ze Cook.” — Labor. — Domestic Relations. — A Drunken Indian. — Wild Men and Naked Children. — Carib Panniers. — The only Art preserved from their An- cestors 2. 2 6 6 ee ee ww te CONTENTS. X1 CHAPTER VII. SOCIAL LIFE, APPEARANCE, AND LANGUAGE OF THE CARIBS. Happy Children. — Cleanliness. — Primitive Innocence. —A Modest Maiden. — Dress. — Face and Figure. — Flattening the Forehead. — Ugly Men and Women. — Carib Hospital- ity. — The Basket-Weaver. — Tropic Noontide. — Religion. — The Dying Woman. — A Lost Skeleton. — Burial of the Dead. — The Wake. — St. Vincent Caribs. — Two Dialects. —The Arowaks. —An Agreeable Tongue. — Vocabulary. — Caliban a Carib, and Crusoe’s Man Friday. — Cru- soe’s Island. — Black Caribs. — Weapons and Utensils of Stone. — ‘* Thunderbolts.” — Carib Sculpture. — A Sacri- ficial Stone. — Whence came They ? — Their Northern Limit. —A Southern Origin. —Their Lost Arts. —A Dying People . 0+ 6 6 6 ee ee ee ee te ee QO CHAPTER VIII. HOW I CAPTURED THE IMPERIAL PARROT. Meyong. — My Hut. — A Mixed-up Language. — Departure for the Forest. — Pannier and Cutlass. — Wood-Pigeons. — The Startled Savages. —The Bath. — A Gloomy Gorge. — ‘‘Palmiste Montagne.”—-In the Haunts of the Parrot. — Immense Trees. — Parasites and Lianes. — Wood for Canoes and Gum for Incense. — The ‘‘ Bois Diable.” — Construct- ing the Camp.— Palm-Spathes. — A Bonne Bouche, the Beetle Grub. — Nocturnal Noises. — Comical Frogs. — A Blacksmith in a Tree. — The First Shot.— The Humming- Bird’s Nest. — The Parrot. — An Excited Guide. — An Acci- dent. — Wild Hogs.— The ‘Little Devil”. - . + + + 112 CHAPTER IX. A DAY IN THE DEEP WOODS. The Bee-Tree. — Enveloped in Plants.— Ascending the Giant Tree. — Smoking Out the Bees. —Vegetable Ropes. — Honey ad libitum. — A Bite. — A Howl. — The Bee-Eaters. — Carib Xii CONTENTS. Perversity. — Sweet Content. — How to draw a Bee-Line. — The Palm Troughs. —A Bamboo Cup. —A Stroll and an ~Alarm. — The Carib Ghost. — Traditions. —The March re- sumed. — An Army of Crabs. — Crabs that Migrate. — Deli- cious Food. — The Mountain Peak. — Hunting the ‘ Dia- blotin.” —Is it a Myth? — Caught in a Storm. — The Carib Castle. — The Captive’s Cave. — Vampires.— The Forest Spirit. © 6 0. 6 8 ee ee ee ee ee ee 130 CHAPTER X. A MIDNIGHT MARCH, AND WHAT CAME OF IT. The Apparition. —The Lost Chief. — A Forgotten Language. — The March by Torchlight. — Strange and Distorted Forms. — The Forest Wilderness. — A Mysterious Sound — ‘A Tree felled by God.” — Virgin, protect Us! — Cook- ing by Steam. —The Rosewood Cabin. — The Chief Dis- appears. —Is it Gold? —A Small Boa Constrictor.— A Carib Basilisk. — The Biggest Bug in the World. — It comes in Search of the Naturalist. — The Hercules Beetle. — Centipedes. — Scorpions. — An Unnamed Palm with Edi- ble Seeds. — A Priestess of Obeah. — African Witchcraft. — Its Stronghold. —Prostrated by the Heat.— Fever . . . 147 CHAPTER XI. A CRUISE IN THE HURRICANE SEASON. An Experiment in Coffee Culture. —The Pest of the Cof- fee Plant. — Disease. — Gathering in the Sick. — Down the Caribbean Coast. — The Flame-Tree. — The Orchard of Limes. — Profits of Lime Culture. — The Maroon Party. — The Stam- pede. — Farewell to Dominica. — Coral Islands. — An Im- mense Game Preserve. — ‘‘ The Doctor.” — The Jiggers. — New Birds. —A Weary Voyage. — Seasons of the Tropics. — Tempests, — Calms. — Provisions Exhausted. — Turkey or Jackass. — Shark. — Odors of Spices. — The Tornado. — Hurricane Birds. — Pitons of St. Lucia. — St. Vincent. — Palm Avenue. — The Spa. — Hospitable People. — Basaltic Cliffs. — Richmond Vale. — Falls of Balleine. — The Water- SPOUEs 6 6% 6 we we we ew ee ee Hw} 6 162 CONTENTS. xili CHAPTER XII. A CAMP IN A CRATER. The Last of the Volcanoes. —The Soufriére of St. Vincent. — The ‘Invisible Bird.” — Ascending the Volcano. — The “Dry River.” — Bird's-Eye View of St. Vincent. — The Old Crater. — The New Crater. — The Lake in the Bowels of the Earth.—In the Cave. — Sunset. — Preparing for the Night.— Toby. — Five Days and Nights of Misery. — Fauna of a Mountain-Top. — Exploring the Crater-Brim. — Yuccas and Wild Pines. —Toby in the Cave’s Mouth. — A Terror- stricken African. —Jacob’s Well. — Snakes and Pitfalls. — Toby’s ‘Stock.”— The Soufriére-Bird.—A Mysterious Song- ster. — Unavailing Attempts to Procure it. Sought for a Century. A Dream. — Nasal Blasts. — Searching for the Bird. — The Carib Bird-Call. — The Capture. — A New Bird. —A Plunge into Darkness. — Scared by a Snake. ~ Toby Desperate. — Departure for Carib Country . . . . . . 184 CHAPTER XIiil. TRADITIONAL LORE.—A MISADVENTURE. Carib Country. — Sandy Bay. — Captain George. — Captain George’s Family. — His Superstitions. — A Carib Romance. —A Love Test. — Courtship and Marriage. — Preparing Cas- sava.— Farine.—An Indian Invention.— The Obeah Charm. — The Carib Wars. — A Brave Coward. — The Caribs Cap- tured.— Sent to Coast of Honduras.— The Survivors.— The Seminoles. — A Parallel. — Carib Song. — Captain George's Treasure. — A Misadventure. — Balliceaux. — A Search for Skulls. — Battowia. — The ‘‘Moses Boat.”— The Monster Iguana. — The Cave. — The Tortoise. — A Relic of a Fast Age. — Tropic Birds. — Our Boat Smashed. — A Night on the Beach. — The Southern Cross. — Paul and Virginia. — Church Island . . 2 1 we ee we we wt we ww 208 CHAPTER XIV. A MONTH ON A SUGAR ESTATE. Out of the Forest.— Into a Sick-Bed. —My Good Angel. — Convalescence. — Rutland Vale. — The Happy Valley. — Nocturnal Neighbors. —The Labor Question.—A Plant- XIV CONTENTS. er’s Trials. — Coolie: Immigration. — The Negro, returning to Savagery. — A Self-appointed Physician. —Government House. — Trees of the Tropics. — Bread-Fruit and Cocoa- Palm. — First Experience with Bread-Fruit. — Its Appear- ance. — Taste. — History of its Introduction. — Abundance in St. Vincent. — The Palms, their Great Beauty and Util- ity.— Cocoa-Palm, Palmiste, Groo-groo and Gris-gris, Areca and Mountain Palms. — The Vine with Perforated Leaves. —The Indian Maiden . . ~~. - 7 1 ee ee + 2 229 CHAPTER XV. GRENADA AND THE GRENADINES. Bequia. — Contented Islanders. — The ‘ Bequia Sweet.” — Carib Anecdote. — Union Island. — Canouan. — An Ener- getic Patriarch. — Cariacou.— On the Ancient Contiguity of the Lesser Antilles. — The Fost Atlantis. — ‘‘ What if these Reefs were her Monument?” — A Glance at the Map. — An Isolated Geographical and Zo@logical Province. — Grenada. — St. George’s. — More Craters. — The Carenage. — The Forts. — The Lagoon. — The “ Eurydice.”— Iguanas. — Their Habits. — Iguana-Shooting. —Oysters growing on Trees. — Columbus and his Pearls. — Lizards. — A Mission- ary’s Grief. — Food of the Iguana. — The Mangrove. — Cacao. — Its Discovery. — Present Range. — Its Cultivation. — Cacao River. — Cocoa and Cacao. — The Tree. — The Fruit. — The Flower. — Idle Negroes, — Chocolate. — For- est Rats. — Monkeys. — Their Depredations.— An Insult . 245 CHAPTER XVI. A MONKEY HUNT IN THE MOUNTAINS. Zones of Vegetation. — Naked Negroes. — The Road to the Mountains. — The Grand Etang. — Quadrupeds of the Lesser Antilles, Extinct and Living. «The Alco. — Pec- cary. — Agouti. — Manacou. — Armadillo. — Raccoon. —A Visit to the ‘‘Tatouay Traps.”— The Forest surrounding the Mountain Lake. — ‘‘ Haginamah”: Is it a Carib Word? — ‘*Hog-in-armor,” not a Carib Word. — ‘*Le Morne des Sauteurs.”— The Plantain Swamp. — Signs of Monkeys. — The Monkeys’ Ladder. — Habits of Wild Monkeys. — The CONTENTS. XV Mammie Apple. —In Ambush. — Feathered Companions. — The Bete Rouge. — An Aged Monkey. — His Caution. — Descending the Ladder.— Monkeys, giddy and graye.— , Counting his Flock.— The Monkey recognizes a Brother. — Shoot! Shoot!”—A Free Circus. —A Man, and a Brother. — The Monkey-Mamma. — Her Terror. — An Im- politic. Tmpre - mm she we Gp wae we EF CHAPTER XVII. SOME SUMMER DAYS IN MARTINIQUE. From Crusoe’s Island, North. — Frowning Cliffs. — Golden Sands. — Birth of a Rainbow. — St. Pierre.— The Volcano. — Our Consul. — ‘Old Farmer’s Almanack,” good for any Latitude. — French Breakfasts. — ‘‘ Long Toms.” — The Widow and her Weed.— Patois. — Costumes.— Good Claret. — Poor Calico. — Market-Women and Washer-Women. — Gaudy Garments. — Profusion of Ornaments. — Jardin des Plantes. — The Shrine and the Traveler’s Tree. — Creole Dueling-Ground. — Palm Avenues. — The Cascade. — Sago and Areca Palins. — The Lake. — Land-Snails. — Lizards.— Tarantulas. — The Lance-Head Snake. — Venomous and Vengeful. — The Mountain, Region. — Hot Springs. — An Extinct Volcano. — A Holy City. — Sabbath in the Coun- try. — Warned of Snakes. — Have Alligator Boots. — The Humble Shrine.— A Shriek.— Narrow Escape.— The Crafty Serpent. 2 6 6 6 6 see ew we we ew ew tw 280 CHAPTER XVIII. THE BIRTHPLACE OF THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. Fort de France. — The Park. — Tamarinds and Mangos. — Statue of Josephine. — The Trois Pitons. — Historic Hills. — Coronation. — Inscription.— An Earthquake.— Terror. — Parents of Josephine. — Her Grandmother. — Alexander de Beauharnais. — A Valuable Document. — Marriage Register of Josephine’s Parents. — Bungling Biographers. — Musty Memoirs. — Fort Royal Bay.— The Passage-Boat ‘‘ John.”— Trois-Ilets. —The Boulanger. —A Festive Father. — A Din- ner in Jeopardy. — A Low Couch. — A High Bill. — Church in which Josephine was Baptized. — A Tablet to her Moth- Xvi CONTENTS. er’s Memory. — La Pagerie, Birthplace of Josephine. — The Hurricane. — The Roof that Sheltered an Empress. — - Ground her Feet had Pressed. — Youth of Josephine. — Another Shock. — The Negro Barracks. — The Empress’ Bath. — One Hundred Years ago!— The Sibyl. — The Humming-Bird. —In Peril from a Serpent. —A Peaceful Scene. — A Rude Awakening. — The River Comes Down. — Earthquake again. —Rags and Melancholy ... . . « 298 CHAPTER XIX. ASCENT OF THE GUADELOUPE SOUFRIERE. Point a Pitre. — The Rivitre Salée. — Usines. — Earthquake, Fire, and Hurricane. — A Living Bulwark. — The Caravels of Columbus. — Our Lady of Guadeloupe. — The Caribs. — Basse Terre. — Le Pére Labat. — Orphans. — The Cholera Plague. — A Permis de Chasse. — Mixed. — A Horse with Points. — Government Square. — The Convent. — A Sum- mer Retreat. — Matouba. — My Thatched Hut. — Doctor Colardeau. — The Coolie. — The Coffee Plantation. — First Coffee in the West Indies. — Its Cultivation. — Temperature of the Coffee Region. — Blossoms and Fruit. — Picking and Preparing. — The High-Woods. — Their Grandeur. — Giant Trees. — Huge Buttresses. — Lianas, Ropes, and Cables. ~ Epiphytes and Parasites. — Aerial Gardens. — The Sulphur Stream.— The Cone.— The Summit. — The Portal.— Blasts of Hot Air. — Nature’s Arcana. — Sulphur Crystals. — Erup- tions.—A Grand View.—Impenetrable Forests.—An Extinct Bird. —Juan Ponce de Leon. — The Fountain of Youth. — The Descent intoGloom. . . . 6... 1 ee 6 6 322 ILLUSTRATIONS, ———-0b9g00-—_ ENGRAVED BY JoHN ANDREW, FROM THE AUTHOR’S —— W700 THE IsLany oF CocoA PALMS... ROSEAU as Ss ue Bee: & ee Ss ee Tue First CAMP ......... Marig£, THE NAIAD ....... HumMMING-Birp HUNTERS ..... Bortinc LAKE oF DomINICA .. . Tue Tropic STREAM ....... Aw INDIAN KITCHEN ....... Carisp GIRL. ....- 2.5. 2s eee ANCIENT CARIBS .......4- THe SACRIFICIAL STONE ..... THe HuNTER’s BATH .....-. AN “AJOUPA” «2 6 ee ee eo An ARMY OF CRABS ....... LAND CRAB 4 6 6 Ge oe % Se ee 8 THe BicGest BuG IN THE WoRLD A Group oF GAMINS......- PHOTOGRAPHS AND SKETCHES. PAGE - . . Frontispiece. eee we we ee ew ~ 107 SS ee ee ee Se Ty Se ele: Be eA ek 39) fd ee wwe ee TAG Bea, eiswat Sa Go) SS ao GD wl ea ge po ZS XV111 ILLUSTRATIONS. Votcano AND Lava RIVER oF ST. VINCENT .... +--+ 184 SPOBM 1 Aleta Gy Geneon a as ae GEL EL Sue eae FER ea a SO A Famity Group OF INDIANS. . «2 6 6 6 ee ee ee ee QE THe INDIAN ZEMI 2.1 we ee ee tt eh tte tt 223 BREAD-FRUIT AND COCOA-PALM .. - 6 e+ 6 6 © ee ee + 237 THE GrRoo-GROO PALM .. 4-1 ee te ee ee ww ww 242 Saint GEorRGE’s, CAPITAL OF GRENADA... . «2 - + + + 253 Tue LAKE IN A CRATER «1 ee eee ee ee ee ee ee 265 PALMISTE — GLORY OF THE MOUNTAINS. ... 1. + e+ + 279 CREOLE Costumes AND HEAD-DRESS ........-... 286 A Marxer WomAN.... 2... ee eee ee ee Oe 287 THe WAYSIDE SHRINE «6 ee eee ee tee ee ee ee 289 Tue Wipow AND HER WEED .. «we ee ee ee ee ee 295 BIRTHPLACE OF JOSEPHINE .. - 1 ee ee eee ee ee 302 THe Earty Home of AN EMPRESS .....-.-..-.- + 313 Point A PITRE, GUADELOUPE .. ~~... 6 ee ee ee ee 323 THe GUADELOUPE SOUFRIERE .. 1... ee ee eee eee B4L CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. —__<—__ CHAPTER I. DOMINICA. THE MYSTERIOUS OCEAN CURRENT. — DOMINICA AND COLUM- BUS.— ROSEAU AND ANTHONY TROLLOPE. — A WEST-INDIAN TOWN. — INTRODUCTION TO TROPICAL SCENES.— THE MOUN- TAINS. — THE FIRST CAMP. LONG the entire group of the Caribbee Isles, sweeping their western shores, flows a strange, mysterious current. Not subject, apparently, to the laws that govern the winds and tides of this region, it for years puzzled and baffled the ablest navigators and oldest sailors. Among the northernmost of these islands large ships were often sunk, carried by the force of this unseen and unsuspected stream upon sunken reefs or barren rocks. Even so long-ago as when Columbus was making his voyages, we have on record that he was detained by this very current among these same islands. It was not known until a comparatively recent period that it was the outflow of a mighty river—no less than the great Orinoco—that caused all this dis- turbance of waters, and that dependent upon its dif- 2 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. ferent stages was the force of this river through the sea. Though my first experience with this current was in January, when the Orinoco was at its lowest,. and the consequent marine flow at its weakest stage, I yet had sufficient proof of its strength to understand how it was that vessels of all sizes were sometimes many days in making ports but few miles apart. We left the port of St. Pierre, Martinique, for that of Roseau, Dominica, the distance being less than thirty- five miles, and the channel separating the islands but twenty in width. Late in the afternoon we hoisted sail, taking a fair land-breeze from the mountains and getting a fresh blow from the trade-winds draw- ing through the channel, and at midnight were close under the southern point of Doniinica, with a fair prospect, when I went below, of landing early in the morning. The captain, a good fellow, had given up to me,*as the only white man on board the sloop, the only berth the cabin afforded. Into that I crawled, with a lurk- ing fear of centipedes and scorpions, and fell asleep. Soon the wheezy pumps awoke me, and a stream of water trickling through the uncalked deck gave assurance that the water in the hold was being pumped out. As this process was repeated every. half-hour, my sleep was not so sound that I did not frequently visit the deck, and at each succeeding visit note with alarm that the land line grew dimmer. Daylight revealed that we were much farther away from shore than at midnight, surely drifting to the north-west, with sail flapping idly and rudder useless. The sun was late in showing himself, for he had to climb well up the heavens ere he could look over the DOMINICA. 3 crest of the mountain-ridge that showed in the dis- tance cool and misty; but as day advanced, and the hour of noon arrived, the cool hours of morning were more than compensated for by the intensity of the -heat radiated from the glassy sea, —a heat that made itself felt with a glare that caused every one on board to seek earnestly a shady spot. And this was the “tropic sea” on-which we were drifting, —the sea so often sung by the poet, the sea we had often contemplated in our fanciful dreaming in more northern climes. Like many afi object of the poet’s adoration, it is far pleasanter to look upon through his eyes than through visual ergans of your own. Though the sun and sea made it painful to look abroad, there was nothing offensively new and glaring about the little sloop, that wearied the eye with bright colors. The prevailing color, in fact, was that of the wood of which it was built, the native wood of the island. The knees were of the natural twist and bend of the native trees; the deck planking and sheathing were likewise of the native wood; the mast, the boom, and the bowsprit were of the native woods of the island; and captain and crew, doubt- less, also from the woods, — natives fresh from the native woods of Dominica. There were more than twenty people of color lounging in various attitudes about the deck. They seemed wholly indifferent to the fact that the vessel was drifting with them away from the island; and when I suggested to the cap- tain that he utilize this material at the oars, there was a general howl of indignation. The captain also gazed at me like one who had heard informa- tion of a character novel and startling, and informed 4 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. me that what I proposed was not only useless, but impossible. Struggle against the current of the mighty Orinoco ! Attempt to baffle the wiles of a power unseen, that always had acted in just such a manner, and had carried him over the same course every voyage he had made! It would be preposterous! At night, the land-breeze would come down from the mountains, and he would claw in-shore without any trouble what- ever. Late in the afternoon, however, we descried a speck dancing on the waves, which speck was, of course, a boat; and in that boat, when it reached us, I engaged passage for the shore, my unhappy companions drift- ing about until the next afternoon, sometimes in sight, sometimes lost to view for a long time. As we neared shore I had time to examine the character of the scenery of the western coast, as one object after another was unfolded, and the mass of green and blue resolved itself into wooded hills, narrow valleys, and misty mountain-tops that reached the clouds. A planter’s house gleamed white in a valley; a pebbly beach stretched between high bluffs, with a grove of cocoa palms half hiding a village of rude cabins along its border. I was approaching an island of historic interest and scenic beauty, of which the events of one and the elements of the other are little known to the world at large. It is the first island upon which Columbus landed on his second voyage. Having been first seen on Sunday, it was called by him Domznica, and this event dates from the 3d of November; 1493. Blest isle of the Sabbath day! Many changes has it known DOMINICA. 5 since the great navigator first saw its blue mountains and landed upon its fragrant strand. Does it not read like a fairy tale, this second voyage of Columbus? With three ships and fourteen cara- vels, containing fifteen hundred persons, he set sail from Cadiz, touched at the Canary Isles, and then shaped his course for the islands of the Caribs, of whose prowess and fierce nature he had heard many stories from the mild people of Hispaniola. “At the dawn of day, November 3d, a lofty island was descried to the west. As the ships moved gently onward, other islands rose to sight, one after another, covered with forests and enlivened by flights of parrots and other tropical birds, while the whole air was sweetened by the fragrance of the breezes which passed over them.” Dominica is but thirty miles in length by eleven in breadth, yet presents a greater surface and more ob- stacles to travel to the square mile than any island of similar size in the West Indies. Well did Columbus illustrate its crumpled and uneven surface, when, in answer to his queen’s inquiry regarding its appear- ance, he crushed a sheet of paper in his hand and threw it upon the table. In no other way could he better convey an idea of the furrowed hills and moun- tains, deeply cut and rent into ravines and hollowed into valleys. “To my mind,” says Anthony Trollope, “ Dominica, as seen from the sea, is by far the most picturesque of all these islands. Indeed, it would be hard to beat it either in color or grouping. It fills one with an ardent desire to be off and rambling among these mountains—as if one could ramble through such wild 6 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. bush country, or ramble at all with the thermometer at eighty-five degrees. But when one has only to think of such things, without any idea of doing them, neither the bushes nor the thermometer are consid- ered.” In this, as in all his sketches, Mr. Trollope is right so far as he goes; but he does not go far enough. “Filled with an ardent desire,” he should have given those woods and mountains the months of camp-life that I did; then would the world be richer in pictures of forest-life and mountain scenery that my poor pen so feebly tries to portray. As one writer, an intelligent geologist, once remarked: “No island in these seas is bolder in its general aspects, more picturesque and more beautiful in the detail of its scenery — indeed, one might be tempted to say, con- sidering .its fortunes, that it has the fatal gift of beauty !” At five o’clock, the gun in the fort starts off the bell in the cathedral spire. It 1s an hour before daylight, and even at six the mists of the valleys cover all, even to the mountain-tops. The sun climbs steadily, though it is eight o’clock before he has shown his face to Roseau, and darts over the mountain-tops to windward his scorching rays. It is interesting to watch the changes that come over the mountain sides and valleys as the sun dissipates the morning mists. Lake Mountain, four thousand feet in height, towers black against the sky; five miles it is from town, yet seems so close as to overshadow it. Its head is veiled more than half the time in mist. Stretching away. north and south is a long line of hills, an isolated peak jutting up at intervals. Their summits are blue and purple in the distance. Within this line is a cordon DOMINICA. 7 of hills, with valleys deep and dark behind, half en- circling the town. These hills are broken and ragged, seamed and furrowed and scarred, yet are covered with a luxuriant vegetation of every shade of green: purple of mango and cacao, golden of cane and lime, orange and citron. Palms crown their ridges, culti- vated grounds infrequently gleam golden-brown on their slopes, and dense clouds come pouring over their crests from the Atlantic. North and south this bulwark of hills ends in huge cliffs plunged into the sea. Roseau is seated at the mouth of a valley formed by a river. From the centre of this valley there rises a hill—a mountain it is called here— Morne Bruce. From its smoothly-turfed crown the view of town and sea is superb, especially at sunset, when the sun sinks beyond the Caribbean Sea, and the cool even- ing breeze plays through the trees. From it we look upon the town; many palm-trees, few houses, a rush- ing, roaring river that meets the sea in a surf-line like a northern snowdrift, a picturesque fort, the jail, the government house, and the Catholic cathedral—a building of stone, with arched windows and door- ways, short, though shapely spire — with a palm tall and slender, to lend grace and beauty; westward, beyond the shore-line, the Caribbean Sea, its bosom, which glowed so fierily in the sunlight, now cool and inviting in its stillness. Looking eastward, one can see far into the Roseau Valley, to the wall of mountains, from which dashes out a great waterfall, dwindled to a mere silver thread in the distance. The Roseau River emerges into a plain beneath, a valley filled with cane, containing in its centre a planter’s house and buildings palm-sur- 8 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. rounded, dashes over its rocky bed with a roar that reaches our ears even at this height of several hun- dred feet, and runs at the foot of a high white cliff across another plantation into the sea, peaceful enough at the end. The streets of Roseau are straight, paved with rough stone, and they never echo to the sound of wheels. They cross at right angles and dwindle down to three bridle-paths leading out of the town, one north and one south, along the coast, and one, narrow and tortuous, over the mountains to the eastward. Most of the houses are one-storied boxes of wood, with bonnet roofs, sixteen by twenty feet; many in a state of de- cay, with tattered sides, bald spaces without shingles, and dragging doors and shutters. Every street, how- ever, is highly picturesque with this rough architect- ure, and with cocoa palms Jining and terminating the vistas. The town is green with fruit-trees, and over broken roofs and garden walls of roughest masonry hang many strange fruits. Conspicuous are the mango, orange, lime, pawpaw, plantain, banana, and tamarind. Over all tower the cocoa palms, their long leaves quivering, their dense clusters of gold-green nuts drooping with their weight. From the mountains, from the “ Sweet River,” comes the purest of water, led in pipes through all the streets, and gushing out in never-ceasing flow from the sea wall on the shore. The market, near the south end of the town, a small square surrounded by stores, is the centre of attraction on Saturdays, when it is dense- ly packed with country people, black and yellow, who come, some of them, from points a dozen miles dis- tant, each with his bunch of plantains, or tray of DOMINICA. 9 bread-fruit. All are chattering, so that there is avery babel of sounds. Little stalls, temporarily erected, contain most villainous salt fish, ancient and vile- smelling, and every few feet is a table, presided over by a contented wench, who has for sale cakes and sweetmeats of her own manufacture. POSEAU. Near the market is the fort, a low stone structure, pierced with loopholes, commanding from its high bluff the roadstead, in which, save the trading-vessels and the weekly steamer, there are seldom any craft besides the sugar-vessels. Near the fort is the Eng- lish church, with a clock in its face, and four magnifi- cent palmistes to guard its entrance. Adjoining is the Io CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. government house in a garden of flowers; and near, the court-house, of stone, yellow and low. Opposite, on a bluff overlooking the sea, is the public garden, neatly enclosed, tastefully ornamented; a few large trees, many roses, humming-birds, butterflies, and a grand view of the sea. The road leads by a broad green savane, near which is a ruined cemetery, down between long rows of lowly cabins, its bed green and grassy, within a stone’s throw of the surf on the pebbly beach. ; This is Roseau, which I left one March morning for the mountains. Early came the women, who were sent by a kind friend to carry my luggage: heavy boxes and bales they had engaged to carry to the mountains on their heads. It was all the way as- cending, but they faithfully performed their duties, nor once complained. Astride an island colt, the loan of another friend, and accompanied by still another, whom I had met a few days before, I left behind me the town, and set my face to the moun- tains. Down the street, past the jail, across the river over an excellent bridge, under the cliffs of St. Aromant, into the banana and citron groves that lie at the moun- tain’s base; then up higher and higher, the path grow- ing rocky and slippery, past the lovely valley of Shawford, where the house of my friend Stedman, built upon a small plateau, surrounded by hills, em- bowered in limes and plantains, overlooks a tropical garden. A mile above, we entered a deep ravine, where are the first perfect tree-ferns on the trail; the gorge is filled with them, and the banks along the path are covered with smaller ones, infinitely beautiful. DOMINICA. II Here I first heard the melody of the “ solitaire.” Long since, the air of the town, hot and parching, had given place to cool and delicious breezes. We went out under the shade of trees, passing many a trickling stream, until an elevation of nearly two thousand feet was reached, when we heard voices, and suddenly came upon a party of mountaineers (half Carib, half negro), naked to the waist, hatless, and armed each with his machete, or “ cutlass,” over two feet in length. They saluted us politely, however, and we passed on until near the “high woods,” when we turned to the right and rode down a narrow trail under large trees, and reached finally a narrow gate of bars in a tall hedge of oleander. Descending rapidly from the forest was an open space of a hundred acres, perhaps, sloping westward, green as a sward of guinea-grass could make it. Over this were scattered volcanic rocks and clumps of trees. This slope terminated abruptly in a cliff so steep that the people living here could not descend except by a long detour. Over this cliff fell the water- fall we saw in coming up. Deep ravines seamed it at intervals, all trending toward the valley wall, and on all sides but this were nothing but forest and hills. From one of the mountaineers I secured a cabin, one of the seven comprising this little hamlet, and before nightfall had comfortably established myself. My companion then left me alone to what proved but , the first of many camps in tropical forests. 12 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. CHAPTER II. CAMP LIFE IN THE TROPICS. A MARCH MORNING. —MATIN MUSIC. — JEAN BAPTISTE. — SONNY. — BREAKFAST IN THE MOUNTAINS. — QUEER CUSTOMS. — DE- LIGHTFUL TEMPERATURE FOR MARCH. — THE HUNT FOR BIRDS, —A DAY’S DUTIES.—STRANGE BIRDS AND SCENERY.— THE “TREMBLEUR.” — A PRECIPICE. — AN ORGAN-BIRD, THE “ MOUN- TAIN WHISTLER.” — BIRD NOTES.— MY. CHASSEURS.— LAND CRABS. — ARDENT ASSISTANTS. — TWILIGHT. T is a bright March morning. As I throw open the shutters of my shanty and let in the light of early day, I look out upon a scene of loveliness that it were worth many a day’s journey to enjoy. From beyond the mountains, east, the sun has climbed a little way until he peers through a defile in the hills, and a rift in the cloud masses, and floods only a narrow pathway down the surrounding hills, their northern slopes, a bit of the gloomy valley miles below, and bursts upon the calm Caribbean Sea with concentrated glory. A sail, floating on that sea, drifted hither and thither by strong, unaccountable currents, —which came, perchance, from Martinique or Bar- bados to the south, or from Guadeloupe or Montserrat to the north, —is ablaze with light, which gives it the appearance of being on fire. No sound comes up from the valley below, nor from the surrounding mountain sides; even the rain frogs and the nocturnal CAMP LIFE IN THE TROPICS. 13 cicade@ have closed their concerts and have left it to the birds to usher in the matin hour; and they are singing in low, sweet strains far down in the gloomy ravines below, and in the thickets bordering distant glades. My first duty is to examine my thermometer. It registers sixty-eight degrees. That recorded, I step out and refresh myself with such ablution as can be enjoyed from a small calabash of rain-water. Soon, a little colored maiden appears bearing a tray with my coffee, and perhaps a cup of milk — oftener without. A cup of coffee anda slice of bread or a couple of crackers, is my only refreshment until noon, when I return from my tramp in the forest. , When I first came to this mountain valley I brought with me a bright, colored boy as aid, fondly hop- ing he would be of much assistance in preparing my birds, as well as in the culinary line. But, alas! in either profession he was singularly deficient, and save in the preservation of cooked provisions, — in other words, “to keep food from spoiling,” — he was of no use whatever. After three days passed in his society, we parted. There was also a question between him and Jean Baptiste (the proprietor of my humble cot), relat- ing to a few small articles that one night disappeared. Now, he was highly incensed that such a thing should happen within the limits of his jurisdiction, and made such a row about it that I concluded that it were best that “ Sonny ” and I should part,,— with no regrets on my part, none expressed on his, — for the laboring class of the West Indies accept stoically whatever fate drops to them as their share. The salary I was pay- ing him was princely, being sixpencea day and “ found,” while the usual remuneration for such service as he 14 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. afforded me was three pence, and if “found,” it was usually after a long search. Baptiste accepted the ex- pression of confidence that this act of mine implied, and took me at once under his protection and care; hence it is that the little maiden aforesaid appears in the morning with my coffee; at noon, when IJ return weary from the hunt, with a dish of eggs fried in oil and yam sauvage, and at dusk with the same, varied with a plate of mountain-cabbage, or salad, from the little wattle-enclosed garden on the hillside. The cabin of Bap- tiste is not far from mine, and my wants are promptly supplied when the hour ar- rives for meals, even almost anticipated. But there are many things connected with the attendance of my little cook and waiter that, in the light of my early education in New England, seem, to say the least, queer. For instance, when the knives and forks require clean- ing, their surplus coating is removed Tus First (ame, by being brought in close contact with the skirts of her garment. I say garment, and use the word in the singular advisedly. CAMP LIFE IN THE TROPICS. 15 The spoons also are cleaned in the same way, and were it not that my eyes had beheld the process of polishing, I should not believe, as they nestled inno- cently together on the rough table, but that they had been subjected to the treatment customary in more civil- ized communities. My tin camp-cup, which has accom- panied me in all my camp-life, was often the object of her attention, and at that time it was doubtful to me whether she was washing the cup with her fingers or rinsing her fingers in the cup. At any rate, it shows a laudable desire to have my table furniture in good order, and I do not murmur; but there is a cake of soap and a towel that I keep concealed from her sharp eyes, that, when not observed, I bring into frequent use on those same objects of her devotion. One day I was incautious enough to peer into the culinary department —a palm-thatched structure, black and grimy with smoke which escaped from the fire on the ground, as best it could, through the roof. Only once! I did not wish again to view those ancient pots and kettles, the refuse of preceding feasts, nor to fight my way through the drove of hogs that trooped about the open door. Occasionally the thought obtrudes itself, “They do not have things like this in the States.” This often makes me sad, but I raise my eyes, perhaps, and look out over the green slope, down upon the valley burst- ing with palms, and beyond the hills to the peaceful sea smiling in sunshine; and I exult in the thought that these enjoyments far outweigh the little annoy- ances that I have described. And I take down the thermometer and find that it records, if morning, six- ty-eight to seventy degrees; if noon, seventy-six de- grees; if evening, seventy degrees. And I again 16 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. reflect, “ They can’t show all these in the States —in March.” But effectually to escape the train of thought that these observations might give rise to, I take my gun, ammunition, game-basket and note-book, and plunge into one of the lateral ravines that feed the huge gorge below. Itis morning. The bread-fruit, mango, and limes that thickly stud the slope above are glistening with dew, and the low shrubs that line the ravine, as well as the taller trees that darken its recesses, are dropping copious showers. I am following the dry bed of a stream that shows, by huge rocks dislodged and excavated banks, what must have been its size and force in the rainy season. Ferns, lycopodiums, and matted and tangled roots conceal the earth and make every footstep a doubtful one, and the loose stones and rocks, with dark holes beneath and beside them, sug- gest most forcibly the possibility of the presence of snakes. But I am looking for birds (and snakes also, if they come in my way), and do not give them the attention that once I thought I should, when hear- ing tales of their abundance and venomous character in these islands. As this is a search for birds, the snakes shall be left for some future chapter. It is well known that each species of bird has its own peculiar haunt, where it feeds, sings, and sports itself. It has also a different haunt for different por- tions of the day, and the birds of the morning which we find in the ravine may be, in the evening, feeding or singing on the borders of open glades, or higher up the mountain sides. At mid-day you will find all under cover of the densest shade, and silent. It is in the morning that they may be found in localities char- CAMP LIFE IN THE TROPICS. 17 acteristic of them. The first bird that greets me on the edge of the ravine is the humming-bird, as he dashes here and there from flower to flower, scatter- ing the dew-drops in tiny showers, and reflecting al- most prismatic hues from breast and back. There are three kinds here in this mountain valley, the smallest of which has a lovely crest of metallic green; the largest, with a length of five inches, and stretch of wing of seven and a half, has a gorgeous garnet throat, purple back and wings, and tail of green, reflecting most delightful hues. The prevailing hue of the other species is green, with a throat sometimes green, some- times blue. I leave the humming-birds to my little chasseurs, who with bird-lime catch for me all I want. Of them more anon; let us plunge into the ravine. A move- ment in the branches of a tall, slender tree claims at- tention. I look up; see nothing. The broad, glossy leaves vibrate again, and I discern above the lower branches a bird the size and shape of our brown thrush ; he has a long, stout beak, a yellow eye, and a glossy, brown coat. He hops from twig to twig, feeding upon the coffee-like berries of this strange tree, silent, engaged in the gleaning of his morning meal. But however intent upon securing those white berries, the husks of which he drops almost upon my head, he does not forget to stop every few seconds and shake his wings and jerk his tail in a most comical manner. A hop, a quiver of wings and tail; a skip, with accompanying shake all over; a jump, with a convulsive shake, quivering and spasmodic twitching of head, wings, and tail. As I watch this inter- esting bird I am conscious of the presence of an- 2 18 ‘CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. other, and of several others also, which when they meet go through the most laughable series of bows, quivering of wings and caudatory vibrations. Well has this bird earned the title — universal, I believe, throughout the West Indies — of Zremdbleur. And now, the trembleurs having been attended to, I push on till I reach the brink of a precipice. A little stream that falls musically over the rocks and stones suddenly loses itself over the brow of this wall of green, on the summit of which I stand. Cautiously clinging to the trunk of a tree, I look down into the . valley. The sight nearly makes me dizzy, for there, five hundred feet beneath me, I see tall trees as little shrubs, bananas and plantains as small plants, and huge boulders as pebbles. The roots I am standing on overhang the precipice, and the tree shoots out far over the dizzy height. Above the sighing of the wind in the tree-tops, and the music of the birds, and creak- ing of branches, is a roaring of water falling from im- mense height — a roar that drowns every other noise, and deafens the ear to every other sensation. Wend- ing my way along the brink, clinging to roots and trees, I soon reach a point where I can see, half-way down the perpendicular cliff, a sheet of foam; a hun- dred yards farther another, falling from a lesser height, yet neither less than one hundred and fifty feet — the higher over two hundred. They are lost in a sea of green, reappearing far- ther on as a united stream, which rushes and roars over rocks, through gorges and at the base of mountains, through gardens of figs and plantains, beneath tower- ing, feathery palms, through green fields of cane, at last to reach the sea. CAMP LIFE IN THE TROPICS. 19 It is while carefully balancing myself on my shak- ing support of matted roots, that a sound comes to my ear through the roar of a waterfall — a sound strange- ly sweet, solemn, and impressive; a mellow, organ- like note, clearer than any flute-tone, more thrilling than the solemn chant of sacred song in groined cathe- dral. Itis repeated. I stand entranced, listening to melody that had never fallen on my ears before. The cause I cannot at first ascertain, for the notes seem ventriloquial ; and indeed they are so, for I search high and low, the leafy branches above my head, the densely clustered ferns at my feet, and the shrubs at my back, for many minutes, before I find the source of this mysterious music. Balanced airily on a lance-like bamboo that shot twenty feet beyond the brink of the cliff, poised in mid-air, with half a thou- sand feet of space between him and solid earth, is a daintily-shaped bird, clad in sober drab, save a dash of rouge beneath his throat, and of white here and there. Unconscious of surrounding things, animate and inanimate, he was devoting his powers to the pro- duction of that wonderful music. In the short space I here allot to myself I cannot describe the different notes; surely no flute ever produced such mellow, liquid tones. It was music of unearthly sweetness, that, once heard, would never be forgotten — between the notes a long pause, that made them most im- pressive. It was not a song—though I discovered later that the little bird had a song— but simply the utterance of a few notes. Soon it ceased, and the bird flew into the near forest, where I soon discovered it 20 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. busily feeding upon the berries of a tall shrub, to the pendant branches of which it was clinging, now and then dashing at a fugitive bunch, apparently as ab- sorbed in this occupation as in his melodious lay of a few minutes before. Soon he ceased feeding, and commenced preening himself upon a naked limb; then, after smoothing himself out, as it were, and drawing in and stretching out his neck, he suddenly dashed at a single berry, swallowed it to clear his throat, and recommenced to trill. He had uttered but a few notes when he silently flew to a dead branch ; afew more and he winged his way to a swinging “liane,” where he hung suspended above a little ravine, in which is sunk a tiny stream, whose tinkling waters made music, though not so sweet and liquid as his. Then he disappeared in the dark recesses of the forest, where it would be useless to follow him, but whence came at intervals the ventriloquial music that seemed to float over my head and around me, though the bird was afar. This bird is called by my mountaineer friends, who have a name, and an applicable one, for everything in the forest, the “Szfleur Montagne,” or “ Mountain Whistler.” I afterwards had one in captivity for several weeks, and notes on his behavior, song, and food would fill a column that my readers might think could be put to better use, but which would be val- uable to the ornithologist as the first records of an intimate acquaintance with this species. But let us goon. I will leave the deep valley be- hind me, with the roar of the waterfall gradually fall- ing, first to a monotonous hum, then ceasing entirely, ‘and climb the bed of another water-course, now dry, CAMP LIFE IN THE TROPICS. 21 waiting for the summer rains. Soon I emerge into a grassy glade, surrounded by mango, coffee-trees, and trees resembling the live-oak. The mangos are bris- tling with spikes of blossoms — white with them — but not a bird nor a butterfly is hovering above them, though the surrounding trees and shrubs are alive with them. This is a fact I have long noticed, that the mango is ever deserted, though adjacent trees may be vocal with bird-music. But, flitting across this green glade, now bright under the rays of an ever-brightening sun, are many birds; that is, many for this island, for it is not abundant in species, nor in numbers either, save of the humming-bird. There is a tree full of warblers of strange species—of Sucrzer, or sugar-bird —a bird resembling our yellow warbler ; several of the more strictly fly-catching birds, and a few sparrows, grosbecs, and blackbirds. The three species of humming-bird are well represented, and dash hither and thither seeking their favorite food, indulging in mimic battles and amorous caresses. I push on, after an hour’s stop, perhaps, over a rugged trail made by the half-wild cattle as they travel from glade to glade, and crossing another stream, climbing a hill, and descending into a ravine, I climb the steep slopes of the hill on which my cabin is perched. Every- thing is as I left it five hours before. The door, which is merely kept fastened by a stick braced against it, has not been opened; but I find on the floor a clus- ter of oranges, a branch of fragrant lime-flowers for my humming-birds, and a tastefully arranged bunch of roses from 8ne of the girls. While I am putting the finishing touches to my bird- notes, the girl comes in with my lunch, and my little 22 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. chasseurs arrive with their collection of humming-birds. They only hunt at certain times of the day, when I can be near to attend to the little captives, according to my instructions, for they have a cruel way of tying them together if they keep them long. They are find- ing some new things every day, and as they have got the idea that I am collecting everything in shape of bird, beast, insect, and reptile, they bring me the result of each day’s “find.” Sometimes it is a snail, a fat caterpillar hideous in its slimy skin, a butterfly, a beetle, or a spider. At one time, from an incautious remark that I made to the effect that I would like a specimen of the curious land-crab which abounds in the ravines and rivulet banks, they conceived the idea of supplying me with the crustacean just mentioned. Each boy and girl on the place resolved to be the first to furnish me with the coveted crab. The consequence was that my place was soon overrun with shell-fish — ugly red and yellow crabs — as large as a man’s hand, and from that to the most diminutive. One of the girls in a mischievous mood brought in a crab with a family of little ones, over a hundred, just large enough to be seen, and let them loose on the floor. Through some open window, while I was absent, some giant crab would be dropped on the floor to await my arrival. This was not done in a spirit of mischief, but from an earnest desire to aid me in my labors. For a week after I could not stir without coming in contact with a shelly creature. I could not put my foot out of bed without a shudder of apprehension. Of nights I would be awakened by a rattlin§ of ale-bottles, and arising would discover that some crab had got thirsty during the night, and had inserted a claw which CAMP LIFE IN THE TROPICS. 23 had caught in the neck of a bottle. Or, as one other night, when my slumbers were broken by a mysterious rattling, and I awoke (thinking that, as Jean Baptiste had prophesied, the “jumbies ” had come for me, as they come for everybody who sleeps alone in a strange house), to find another crab vexing his soul in vain en- deavors to shin the broom-handle. It may be surmised that I soon informed my corps of naturalists that I could dispense with their services, and now. I am againa lone investigator dependent upon his sole endeavors. In the afternoon I sit down by the loophole that serves as window, (where by raising my eyes I can at any time look off upon the peaceful Caribbean Sea, ) gather my birds about me, and, after noting their measurements and other data necessary to aid in their identification, proceed to skin and preserve them pre- paratory to their long journey to the“ States.” It is near sunset when this is finished, and after supper I climb into my hammock, or sit on my threshold, watching the sun go down behind the mountains. If I were a little further to the north I could see him down clear to the sea; and, in fact, I often climb a spur of a near hill, where are buried the ancestors of the present res- idents of Laudat, and watch the sun as he dips below the sea, just gilding with his parting rays the rude crosses that mark the last resting-place of those buried beneath them. But what I have been most disappointed in as the sun sets, is the absence of that prolonged twilight, which makes our evenings of early summer in the north so delightful ; when, after the sun goes down, there re- mains that blissful lingering of day with night, when the softened light fades so gradually away that we 24 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. cannot tell at what precise moment, or how, it left us ; and when the song of the robin fills the air with mel- ody that many other of our birds keep up in the fields and orchards till late at night. There is none of that here. More than once I have said to myself, as the sun hid his face behind the dark ridge of mountain, leaving the trees sharply outlined against the clear sky — more than once I have repeated, “Now I will sit in the doorway and enjoy the twilight.” But I had scarcely found and filled my pipe, and settled myself comfortably in doorway or hammock, when twilight was gone, and the fast-gathering darkness had hid the valleys, and was climbing the western slopes of the mountains. The stars, already out, shine with a liquid brilliancy that causes you to forget the absence of dusk, and you give yourself up to the contempla- tion of the lighted heavens, losing yourself in thought, wandering perhaps in meditation back to the land you have left, over which the same sky stretches and stars gleam ; but not with the clearness of the one, nor the soft brilliancy of the other — at least not at this present season. MY FIRST CAMP. 25 ® CHAPTER III. IN AND ABOUT MY FIRST CAMP. THE CARIBBEAN SEA, ITS DECEPTIVE APPEARANCE AND PLA- CIDITY. — MY NEIGHBORS, THE MOUNTAINEERS, THEIR SAY- INGS AND WISE SAWS.—A FRENCH MISSIONARY NEEDED. — THE IGUANA AND ITS FLESH. — GLIMPSES OF MRS. GRUNDY. — A WORK OF ART.— CRUISING FOR CRUSTACEANS. — THE “GRIVES.” — MARIE. — LONG-TAILED DECAPODS. — ‘ WHERE CRABS GROW.” — “ WAIT THERE, MONSIEUR.” — ASTONISHED. — SHOCKED. — THE RIVER, — DRENCHED. —- A NAIAD. — A VIC- TIM TO SCIENCE. — FOOD FOR THE GODS. HE pictures seen from my cabin door are beau- tiful, but.all suggest alike the sea. Detached peaks rise to the eastward and southward, connected by a continuous chain of hills to the sea. Their line is irregular, and very shapely are those mountain- peaks, clothed with verdure to their summits. The broken slope in front of my cabin slants rapidly to the precipice that borders the valley containing the river which hastens to the sea. Outlined against its silvery surface are dark green mountains; a loosely branched tree stands out against it as against the sky ; palms, with gracefully spreading foliage, show dark against it. It spreads so far and wide, and seems to climb so high to meet the sky, that it is hardly pos- sible to tell where sea leaves off and sky begins. Every day I am puzzled to ascertain the horizon line. 26 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. Every day it blends into sky so softly that all seems sky, or all may be sea. Is the sky blue, so is the sea; is it smoky pearl, the sea is dim, and hides its face beneath a hazy cloud. A cloudy day, with the sun shining on the water from behind the clouds, turning the sea to burnished and glistening silver, is as puz- zling as a day with sky of clearest ether, for the sun, reflected from the glowing surface of the sea, dissipates the line of demarkation in the glare of the reflection. There are times when the sea does not rise up to meet the sky, but spreads out miles and miles, until I almost fancy J can see to Aves Island — that solitary island far west in the Caribbean Sea, where a colony of birds breed on the sands. The best view is ob- tained at sunset; then, whether the bright orb dis- appears behind the mountains without a cloud, or whether he leaves a threatening array, clad in armor of gold and silver, the horizon line is well defined. At moonlight also, when mountains and valleys are but gradations in depth of shadow, the sea reposes peacefully beneath moon and stars, content to rest itself as a sea, and claiming no affinity with the vault above. It seems to me that it changes every time I look upon it — pearl-blue, silver shot with gold, hazy depths, from which no light is shown, and again a sea of deepest ether. It has never been otherwise than calm and placid, though the fierce winds that some- times sweep down from these mountains and dive into the valleys are enough to ruffle the tranquillity of any , sea. Indeed, it is a well-known fact that vessels are often becalmed under the lee of these Caribbee islands for days together, and there is not even a swell to MY FIRST CAMP. 27 break the monotony of existence on board. I can see white sails, sails of sloops, of schooners, of ships, drifting lazily over the placid sea. Sometimes the morning will reveal the sail of the evening before — the sail that I watched as I swung listlessly in my hammock. It is one of the pleasures of existence here that I can at any time have within my view the still, dreamy, beautiful sea of the Antilles. It is not always so peaceful. In the “hurricane season,” when the tempests devastate these islands, it rises in its wrath —not like the miserable Atlantic, though, always in commotion; it is disturbed only by a hurri- cane — nothing less. A century ago or thereabouts, there came to this mountain retreat, then unbroken wilderness, (as now it is, save this little clearing) that sanguine French- man, Jean Baptiste Laudat. Tradition says he came from his- native isle of Martinique or Guadeloupe, and here looked about him for a wife. It is more proba- ble, theugh, that he brought her with him as a slave, and that she was black; and that there afterwards got admixed a soupgon of Carib blood is manifest in the color of these, his descendants. They are not yellow, or bright olive like the Carib, but of a rich brown, with long hair, black and wavy. That the air of these mountains is conducive to health, their size, plumpness and activity prove. There are but five families, ruled over by the present Jean Baptiste, who inherits his power from his deceased grandfather, as eldest son. With him lives his mother, a yellow-skinned old lady of eighty, who hobbles about with a cane, and is a fre- quent visitor at the door of my hut. Now, this old 28 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. lady and her Jean can speak what they flatter them- selves passes for English, but their native tongue is the perverted French of their white ancestor. Toa Parisian, their perversion of the French verb /azre would be sufficient to drive him crazy. For instance, the old lady strives to make intelligible the number of her grandchildren and their respective parents: “My zon, Jean, he make ze enfans seex; Ma fille, he make huit, and ¢out les enfans make seexty.” She passed my door one afternoon as I was busy preparing my collections for preservation, and told me confidently that she was going to “ make petit walk,” but a wail from the house of her eldest son caused her to hurry her old limbs to soothe the child “zat make ze cry.” “Me make my sleep,” is a com- mon expression. Jean B. is full of wise sayings, and gives vent to some very strange expressions. One day I returned from a long hunt in a heavy rain, and my worthy friend was greatly exercised that I did not immediate- ly change my clothing. “ Who drink ze watah,” said he. “It is youselfs feet;” meaning that the moisture had been absorbed into my system. “White man next to God (ze Mon Dieu).” “White man not like colored, he no eat ze bones of ze poule.” “I tank ze Mon Dieu ef I speaks ze Engleesh.” He exercised a sort of paternal sovereignty over me, as the first white man who had honored his little hamlet with his pres- ence, and many a day has he staid from his labor in the mountains to procure something for my table, or some new bird. One day he brought to my door an iguana, nearly five feet in length, and very ugly. He had seen it MY FIRST CAMP. 29 basking on a limb beneath the cliff, and had pinned it with a long bamboo, while his brother secured it with a noose made from a liane. I expressed a desire to obtain its skin, and hastened to do so, but a woman was already scorching the scales, which she afterward scraped off in water. It looked quite repulsive, but a piece which they later sent me I ate, finding it sweet, tender, and white, not unlike chicken. This is the season (March and April) when the iguana leaves the rocks and precipices, and takes to the trees. He lives on grass and leaves, principally, if not solely, and only frequents the trees, they say, during the dry season; then he is hunted. During the wet season he lives in his hole, or if he comes out he is hard to find. The dogs of Laudat are trained to hunt this lizard. I always held that for darning, pure and simple, our good old grandmothers of the good old times held rank par excellence. This was conclusively proven one day, when, having made a long rent in the leg of an old pair of trowsers, I took them to Mrs. Jean Bap- tiste to be repaired. As I turned to go I was arrested by an exclamation, and looking back found her at- tentively examining them. Now, they were very old; how they got mixed up with the rest of my wardrobe I do not know; but as they were there I made use of them in the woods, intending to leave them there, peradventure they survived. Years before they had been patched by my grand- mother ; that maternal relative had a passion for darn- ing perfectly unaccountable. Like Alexander, she would shed tears when there were no more conquests to make in her world of darning, and a new pair of pantaloons, or a coat without a rent, was to her a 30 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. source of grief. How eagerly she would seize upon a garment that showed signs of dissolution ! Jabbering a few hurried words in patois to a gargon who quickly departed, Mrs. Jean Baptiste sat down with the garment in her hands to await the arrival, as I soon found, of the adult female population of Laudat. When they had all arrived she arose and displayed to their united view the broadest part of my inoffensive nether habiliments. At first they were speechless with admiration, but soon broke forth into a chorus of Mon Dieus ! each one reaching forward for a closer inspec- tion. The simple explanation of this is, they recognized the work of a master-hand. Had some connoisseur of paintings found in a garret — as some one is con- stantly finding in a garret —a painting that, the dust being removed, disclosed a Murillo or a Van Dyke, he could not have been more delighted and surprised. I say delighted, but sober reflection convinced them that such handiwork should not be shown their lords and masters; and they grew troubled lest they should see this masterpiece, and becoming dissatisfied with their spouses’ needlework, eventually sue for divorce on grounds of incompetency, or some kindred cause. Then they desired I should teach them; but I pro- tested that I never had taken lessons in that science, and that unless they could puzzle it out for themselves, the art, as an art, must be a lost one to them. Mine host heard of it, however, and to him I gave the garment. And it is said that he has caused to be preserved (by framing or some other way) that design in darning, and, having lopped off the legs for his youngest son, regards the remainder as an art treasure of the highest MY FIRST CAMP. 31 Mariz. value. If his wife gets refractory he has but to point with warning gesture at that specimen of needlework, and she at once subsides. Even in this wild island, in the depths of the deepest forest, there exists that fear of Mrs. Grundy that smoul- ders in the human breast in town and city. Though the young people of the mountains go about for days and weeks with nothing on but a single gown or rag- ged shirt, when the time comes for going to town they must carry with them all they possess in the way of a wardrobe; and they will carry on their heads a large 32 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. Indian pannier, or basket, with nothing in it but their best clothes. When they reach the banks of the last stream nearest town they don their finery, and cram their unwilling feet into unaccustomed shoes, and then limp painfully into the metropolis, conscious that they are objects of envy and admiration. They are really prettier in the more becoming cos- tume of the mountains—a simple dress gathered about the hips, reaching to the knees; and men and boys handsomer in merely cotton pants, with broad breast and muscular arms exposed. I have seen the policemen, when in secluded country districts, walk- ing with their shoes held carefully under their arm. Though improvident of time, these people are very careful of their clothing. Jean Baptiste came in one day with a bunch of “ grives,” or large thrushes, which are excellent eating and desirable specimens. At my request he went down into the woods and showed me the tree on which, morning and afternoon, they could be found feeding. It was then noon, and I could not find any; but next morning I started out with the intention of bagging a few. Heavy showers came down every half-hour, but J donned my rubber poncho, and waded on through the wet forest, with my gun securely covered.” My course lay down the south ravine. On the hill to the right was a tall f#guzer tree, the fruit of which is liked by the birds. This fruit resembles in shape, size and color, a cranberry, and is attached to the twigs in clusters of two and three. Now, I could have sworn to the exact position of that tree; yet, having tramped doggedly through the rain for more than half an hour without seeing any MY FIRST CAMP. 33 familiar tree or shrub, I began to look about me sharply. Though I had noted the direction in my mind’s eye when shown the tree, I overshot it in my search and got farther down. A_ group of tree-ferns I remembered; farther on, across a brook, was a large rock — all right; but where was the ants’ nest in a dead tree that I had especially noted? ‘To understand why all my landmarks were small and insignificant, the reader must be informed that in these woods the trees are so large and shoot up so high that their crowns afford no means of identi- fying them; and all their trunks are so much alike, enveloped in masses of vines and ferns, that other ob- jects must be chosen to guide the hunter in his rambles here. Under thick. foliage I went, until the roar of the large waterfall came up to me, and I knew I ‘must retrace my steps, as the tree was on the ridge between the two streams. At once I wag stopped by seeing on the ground be- fore me-scattered shreds of fguzer fruit, and looking up, saw the tree above me. As I had approached from the side opposite to that of my first visit, its sur- roundings had seemed changed. The rain came down in torrents, but glanced harmlessly from my poncho. It was tiresome waiting, but I secured all I wanted of the grives and went back to the main trail leading to the Boiling Lake, and sat down on a rock in a more open part of the forest, to try to secure a few humming-birds. The rain had ceased, and the sun was shining outside. Yielding to the overpowering influence of silence and solitude, I was indulging in a day-dream, when a voice awoke me: 3 34 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. “ Bon jour, monsieur !” I looked up, and saw two brown-skinned maidens. One was a little mulattress, about ten years old; the other was Marie — light-hearted, sunny Marie — in whose veins flowed the blood of three races. The blood of the African showed in her wavy hair and full lips, and told what was the original stock with which that of the Carib was mingled; and that of the jovial Frenchman, who had wandered to these wilds years and years ago, gave the roundness and suppleness of limb, the quick merry eye, the oval cheek, and little hands and feet. “ Bon jour, Mademoiselle Marie: where are you going?” * Pour chercher les écrevisse” —To look for cray- fish. Crayfish! Why, just what I wanted; for I had promised one of the professors in Washington to make collections of these very animals. I glaficed up through a hole in the leafy roof above me and judged it was about ten o’clock, unless the sun’s rays were refracted in coming through. “Have you anything for me to eat, Marie?” “Yes, monsieur.” “Then I will go with you.” “Tt gives.me much /azs¢y, monsieur.” “Well, lead the way.” Reader, if you look in a work on natural history for information regarding the crayfish, you will find it there given as a “long-tailed decapod;” and, pur- suing the subject still farther, you will see that it is also crustacean — a “ decapod crustacean.” And thus you might follow the author up to the branch articu- MY FIRST CAMP. 35 data, and back again through all its divisions and ramifications, and all you will know about it will be that it is a long-tailed decapod, and inhabits fresh- water streams. Long-tailed decapod, forsooth ! Come with me, reader, and I will show you more of crayfish and their ways than you can learn in a week of books. Follow in my wake, or, as the path is slippery, take good hold of my hand. The way leads up hill and over rocks, wet and smooth, for perhaps a mile. Don’t mind the wet leaves that continually flap in your face, or the vines and creeping ferns that vex your feet. Take a good grip and come along. In the language of the immortal bard (who, by the way, never knew of crayfish like these) : “T prithee, let me bring thee where crabs grow.” We may have completed a mile, when Marie stopped: “Stay here, monsieur.” I staid, while she went behind a large rock and removed her shoes. Then I was allowed to follow on until the path was left, and we entered the deeper woods to descend to the river. Opposite another huge rock she stopped again. “Wait there, monsieur.” Behind this rock she darted with her little companion, and shortly re- appeared. Satyrs and wood-nymphs! I thought these girls about as thinly clad as possible when they disap- peared behind the rock, but I declare in all serious- ness, they had left a large bundle of clothes behind. What a mysterious combination is woman! And there they stood, laughing and blushing, in a single dress each, loosely gathered at the shoulders, and at 36 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. the waist by a girdle. This was becoming serious. If there were any more rocks in our path, I felt morally certain they would dodge behind them. And then how would they appear? My hair began to bristle. I was resolved to stop it at all hazards. * Look here, Marie!” “Yes, monsieur.” “Don’t do that any more.” * What, monsieur? ” “Don’t go behind any more rocks ; don’t take off any more garments.” “ Why no, monsieur ; it is impossible !” No amount of italicizing or exclamation-points can render the astonishment in her tone as she thus as- sured me; and feeling that I could then safely proceed, I gave the order to go on. We reached the river — the stream that flows out of the mountain lake — broad and with gravelly beach, with immense bowlders as islands, and a wall of vegetation on either side that rose straight up a hundred feet. Here my guides left me to my own devices and waded into the stream in search of crayfish. I saw a bird I had not seen before, and pursued it along the shore until stopped by a cascade. It was within shot, however, and at the report of my gun it fell into a little pool. The rocks were smooth as glass, and my great boots, though good protection from the vines and thorns, were but poor aids in clambering over these rocks. The result was that I unexpectedly sat down upon a rock, and very sud- denly I came down, too. There was a stream of water rushing over that rock six inches in depth, so that my fall did not hurt me; but the rapid-flowing sheet struck my back with great force, and climbed MY FIRST CAMP. 37 up over my coat-collar so rapidly that I was im- mediately as bloated as a bull-frog. The rain had long ago drenched me, but, though wet before, I did not care to get wet behind. My half-smothered yells brought Marie to my as- sistance, and she rescued me and the bird, and then suggested I could wade better with my boots off. Happy thought! The boots were removed. I need not detail, to any one who has had the experience, the pleasure of wading barefoot over stones and rocks for the first time in years. A little torture was enough for me, and in half an hour I was quietly seated, dry- ing in the sun, watching the girls at their work. The stream was broad, with deep pools, and in these pools the crayfish lurked, looking like miniature lobsters through the clear water. I could see only the small ones, but Marie assured me there were large ones out of sight beneath the cascades. I was glad of that, for several severe nips from these small ones had given me enough of crayfish, and I did not care whether my friends in America ever got a specimen. Erect upon the rock she stood a moment, then plunged head-foremost into a foaming pool, disap- pearing from sight. A moment later, rising bubbles preceded a round little head, from which hung long, limp tresses; a pair of shoulders brown and bare, and round arms and little hands reaching out for a support. She had a crayfish in each hand, and another, with wriggling legs, in her mouth. These she handed to the little girl on the rock near me, and then climbed out and stood erect, with heaving bosom and parted lips, and nonchalantly gathered up her dripping skirts and wrung from them the water. Outlined 38 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. against that wonderful background of tropical leaves, with its depths of shade and gleams of light, with the water dashing against the rock upon which she stood, and parting in sheets of foam, what a charming naiad she appeared! Naiad she may have been, but she could hardly have been called a Dry-ad, as the water had caused her garment to cling closely to her shapely figure, and was pouring from it. Once, breathless and excited, she arose, and came to me with an ugly water scorpion between her fingers, one of which was red and swollen, where the venom- ous thing had bitten it. Thus we went on up the stream until near the mountain lake, when our way was stopped by a jam of broken limbs. Then we turned down again until halted by a series of wells, worn from the rock by the action of the water, twenty feet deep, into which the flood plunged wildly, ever descending, on its way to the grand leap of two hundred feet into the valley below. While my companions searched a side stream I remained on the banks by the trail. Daylight waned and they came not; the gathering gloom urged me to be up and on my way home; but the trail was obscured, and I was not sure of reaching my hut in the dark without a guide. So I waited, perforce. Everything living seemed to have left the river's banks, and the only companion to my solitude was a gayly-colored lizard, which lay upon a branch and watched me. In the interest of science — but against my better feelings —I held a bottle before his nose, and he walked into it. Then I put in the cork, and later he was having his fill of rum; not the first victim of the bottle — and of science. Voices reached me not long after, and none too MY FIRST CAMP. 39 soon, for we had hardly light enough to reach the main path. Late as it was, however, Marie prepared some of the fish when she reached her mother’s house, and sent them to me with some fragrant limes and a spicy pepper. The delicate flesh as far surpasses that of the coarse, garbage-feeding lobster in flavor, as a “saddle-rock” does a coon oyster. With a drip- ping of lime-juice and a dash of West India pepper, some Peak & Freans’ biscuit and a bottle of Tennant’s pale ale, I supped so delightfully that all my mishaps were forgotten. I even queried whether crayfish- hunting, with a dusky maiden of sixteen, who ex- tended a helping hand when you slipped, laughed merrily when you fell, talked musical patois as she pattered along, were not better than hunting through musty books. ‘ 40 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. CHAPTER IV. THE SUNSET-BIRD.— HUMMING-BIRDS. THE CRATER-TARN. — TEMPORARY CAMPS.— THE “SOLEIL COU- CHER.” — ‘‘HEAR THE SUNSET.” — A BIRD POSSESSED. OF THE DEVIL. — THE CAPTURE.— A SPECIES NEW TO THE WORLD. — FOUR SPECIES OF HUMMING-BIRDS.— THE GARNET-THROAT AND GILT-CRESTED.— DAN, THE HUNTER. — CATCHING BIRDS WITH BREAD-FRUIT JUICE.—IN CAPTIVITY. — DEATH.— THEIR FOOD.— METHODS OF CAPTURE.— THE HUMMING-BIRD GUN.— THE AERIAL DANCE. N all the Caribbee Islands there are volcanoes, many of them still at work, ejecting, not lava, but steam and sulphur fumes. In the mountains one finds numerous tarns of clear, cold water, filling these ex- tinct craters to the brim, and pouring their surplus flood down the mountain sides to form rivers in the valleys below. How came they there, these lakes of unknown depth? Are they fed by subterranean streams, or have the craters become choked, and, in- stead of vomiting forth water, and gases generated in the center of the earth, become merely receptacles for the drainage of surrounding mountains? Who knows? We only know that we cannot sound their depths with plummet-line, and that the water is pure and tasteless. Ages and ages have they existed here, and he must be more than geologist, and acquainted with the plans of a great Creator, who would answer these questions. THE SUNSET-BIRD. 41 Such an one was the little lake above my first camp in the mountains. Twenty-three hundred feet above the sea, right in thecrest of the mountain-ridge, sur- rounded by the most wonderful vegetation ever be- held by man, it reposed in solitude. On all sides but one the hills rose above it, dipping toward it and forming a hollow through which rushed the trade- winds from the Atlantic to the Caribbean Sea. The trail leading from sea to ocean passed near it, and a cave, hollowed from a clayey bank, gave shelter from rains to the passers-by and to the people from the coast who sometimes came marooning here. A tree-fern, between path and lake, arose above the matted carpet of wild plants beneath. From my permanent camp I frequently went out into the forest for days, taking with me a young Indian as porter and guide. Leaving this mountain lake, one day, we took a little-used trail along the ridge to the northward. Late in the afternoon we came to another solitary lake, ringed round with giant trees. To my surprise, my guide at once made prepa- rations for a camp, or an ajoupa, as he called the primitive structure hastily erected every night to shel- ter us from the damp. . Darkness settles swiftly in these tropic forests. No sooner is the sun down than night is upon you; con- sequently we always camped as soon as the sun had set, for traveling after dark in these wilds is a thing impossible. I objected to camping then, thinking we had at least another hour of daylight, though I could not tell, the forest was so dense, when he quickly de- manded: “ What! you no hear the sunset?” | 42 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. I was astonished. “Hear the sunset! No, cer- tainly not!” * Ah, monsieur, me no mean the great sun, /e grand soled, but the bird called the ‘Sunset-bird,’ ‘Le Sodez? Coucher.’” Here was a mystery, an object worthy of investi- gation —a bird that acted as the forester’s clock, that . told him the time to go to bed. At once I proposed to go in search of it; but my guide piteously pro- tested, declaring that it was a “ jumbie-bird,” — a bird possessed of the devil, — and that to kill it would not only endanger my life, but bring death to the settle- ment. Half an hour before sunset it utters its pecu- liar cry, and half an hour before sunrise; during the day it is silent. “Listen!” said my guide. Ina few minutes there rang through the forest a cry weird and mournful, yet having in its notes a resemblance to the words soled? coucher—the equivalent in patois for sunset. It was repeated by another bird and another, all around the lake, one answering another. In less than half an hour darkness had covered us, and the cries had ceased. Grand old trees towered above me, their branches matted together and hung with cable-like vines. In the morning, I listened eagerly for a repetition of the sounds of the night before, and was out and away down to the lake-border with my gun, before my guide was awake, or daylight had made it safe to walk abroad. I was rewarded —“solecl coucher!” right over my head. Eagerly I gazed, but saw noth- ing. The sound was repeated, and by other birds. In the darkness it was impossible to distinguish any- thing, though never so near. THE SUNSET-BIRD. 43 Impatiently I awaited the coming of dawn, which with its first indications rewarded my search. I saw a dusky body, a bird so small that I concluded it could not be the author of so loud a cry. But ina few minutes I noted it in the very act; and almost before it had finished its note, and while the final cadence was quavering on the air, the sound of my gun announced to my guide that the deed was done, and it was now too late to avert the vengeance of the evil spirits. Regardless of his lamentations, I stood absorbed in the contemplation of the bird now in my hand. That it was a zew bird I felt certain, and im- mediately —as soon as my agitation had subsided — I wrote a description of it. In shape and size it resembles the “king-bird,” so familiar to dwellers of the north; it is eight and one-half inches in length; its upper plumage is dark brown; quills brownish-black; under the wings pale yellow; throat and upper parts of breast and sides clear bluish-gray; portion of breast and under parts pale yellow; bill broad and thin, and black like the feet.* Six months later this bird reposed in the Museum at Washington, and I received from the ornithologists (as I was then at work in a distant island) a notifi- cation to the effect that it was a mew species, and had been named the AM/yzarchus Obert. Though I after- ward discovered many new birds, there was not one with which it would have given me greater satisfac- tion to have my name identified. * The reader is referred, for farther information upon the birds captured by the author, to the list of Birds of the Lesser Antilles, in the Appendix. 44 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. Standing there by that silent lake, the morning mist enshrouding me, that strange bird in my hand, I fell at once into a train of musing suggested by the thought that this might prove a species new to the world. There is something in such a thought inexpressibly thrilling : to feel that to you alone has been vouchsafed the first glance at a being that has existed for ages undiscov- ered and unknown; has lived and breathed and sung, generation after generation of the same type; and that you, who now hold its breathless form in your hand, are the first to look upon it! At this age of the world, when man has searched the remotest confines of the globe, to find an animal so high in the scale as this — that has heart and lungs, and in whose veins the blood courses warm and red —is considered an event worthy of chronicling in annals that endure forfmore than a single generation. Like these were my reflections that morning, — meditations that caused me to ignore the superstition of my ignorant friend, whose uneasiness regarding | the lives of those whom he considered I had placed in jeopardy, was not soon allayed. Four species of humming-birds greeted me in my first camp in the tropics. They fairly lit up the val- ley with their gleaming ceats; not a bush or tree in flower that did not have one or more hovering above: it from morning till night. Until the New World was discovered, the humming- bird was not known to Europe. Though roaming from the Arctic Circle to the Antarctic, it is ever American, and never extends its migrations beyond the limits of » the Western continents. Of all the creations of bird-life HUMMING-BIRDS. 45 this is the most beautiful, the most minute. Depend- ing upon no single feature for attraction, — upon no one plume or tuft of feathers, like the bird of para- dise, upon no broad-spread, glaring colors, like the parrot, —it is, in fact, the gem of the feathered world. So often have poet and naturalist compared it, in the brilliance of its flashing colors, to the gems of the min- eral kingdom, that they have left little to be said, and I can but repeat that it is now a topaz, now an em- erald, a turquoise, or a ruby. East of the Mississippi and north of Florida there is but one species that can be called a regular visitor ; this is the well-known ruby-throated humming-bird of the North. As we go south we find them increasing, both in species and in number, until the region of greatest abundance is reached near the Equator. In Dominica, half-way down the Antilles, and six- teen degrees north of the Equator, I found four spe- cies to replace the single one visiting the North, the smallest of which were as large as the ruby-throat, and the largest two inches longer. This latter is called the garnet-throated hummer, and is five and one-half inches in length, and seven in stretch of wing. It is the most abundant, as well as the most beautiful, and loves the mountain valleys, where are gardens of plantains and fragrant flowers. Its bill and feet are black ; a brilliant gorget of garnet extends from beak to breast, each feather of which is semicircular, and of the deepest crimson with gold reflections. It should be seen poised in air hovering above a flower, or preening itself upon a dry branch, with the full blaze of a tropic sunshine glancing from its throat, for one to form an adequate conception of 46 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. its beauty. The back is black with a blue shade, like blue-black velvet; wing and tail-coverts rich green with bronze reflections; all the feathers, be it noticed, changing with every light that falls upon them. There are two species that measure an inch less in length, that have the crimson or garnet throat replaced by metallic green and violet, and with backs of green instead of blue-black. The fourth, and smallest, is a little fellow, found everywhere, from coast to mountain- top, in the gardens of the town and over the barren hills. From his eccentric motions, he is called the “fou-fou,” or crazy-crazy, for he darts hither, thither, up, down, round and round, with seemingly aimless purpose. He is sober in hue, and has only a little pointed crest to give him beauty. But this little hel- met of metallic green, now shining golden, now pur- ple even, and steel-blue, flashes every ray of the sun from its bright surface. His head is generally carried with the beak pointing downward, so that the crest is always seen to the best advantage. . There were three little chasseurs who used to sup- ply me with every bug and bird within their reach. It takes a boy, especially a boy of the woods, to find out the haunts of the denizens of the forest; and but for these little collectors, my specimens would have been fewer in number. Let us follow little Dan, the eldest and sharpest of the humming-bird hunters, as he goes out for birds. First he goes to a tree called the mountain palm, which replaces the cocoa palm in the mountains, the latter growing only along the coast. Beneath the tree are some fallen leaves, fif- teen feet in length; these he seizes and strips, leav- ing the mid-rib bare, a long, slender stem, tapering HUMMING-BIRDS. 47 isi to a point. Upon ’ this tip he places a lump of bird-lime, to make which he had collected the inspissated juice of the bread-fruit, and chewed FIUMMING-BIRD fiUNTERS. it‘ to the consistency of soft wax. Scattered over the savanna are many clumps of flowering bushes, over whose crimson and snowy blossoms humming- birds are dashing, inserting their beaks in the hon- eyed corollas; after active forays, resting upon some bare twig, pruning and preening their feathers. Cau- tiously creeping toward a bush upon which one of these little beauties is resting, the hunter extends the palm-rib, with its treacherous coating of gum. The bird eyes it curiously, but fearlessly, as it approaches his resting-place, even pecking at it; but the next mo- ment he is dangling helplessly, beating the air with 48 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. buzzing wings in vain efforts to escape the clutches of that tenacious gum. The humming-birds brought me alive, I would place in a large gauze-covered box; but they seldom sur- vived many days, notwithstanding great care. If exposed to the light, they kept up a constant flutter- ing until the muscles of their wings became so stiff they could not close them, and they expired with wings wide outstretched. Some would take their cap- tivity quietly, and though flitting now and then to the front of the box when light was admitted, would sit upright upon the perch, giving an occasional chirp, and dressing their feathers as serenely as if in the open air. They would seem happy and cheerful ; but the fact is, they are creatures of light and sun- shine, and cannot exist without it. You may give them their favorite food of honey and insects, fresh flowers every day, with the morning dew yet drip- ping from them, and yet, despite your tenderest care, they will droop and die. It is touching to witness the death of one of these innocent beings. Though I have caused more than one to lose-its life, I never did it without a pang, as though I were committing a great wrong. To shoot a bird at a distance, and have him fall at a distance without a struggle, is not the same as to see him die in your hand. To watch the feeble fluttering of the stiffening wings, the expiring glance of the fast-dim- ming eye, the painful pulsations of the gentle heart, the last quiver when all is over,—ah! how often has my conscience reproached me when looking upon such a scene. Again and again I have almost re- solved never to kill another bird, and only the thought HUMMING-BIRDS. 49 that I was doing this work in the interest of science kept me to my purpose. The little crested sprite bears confinement less easily than the others, and rarely survives two or three days. Every morning I would introduce a bough of fragrant lime-blossoms, at which they would all dash instantly, diving into the flowers with great eagerness. Sugar dissolved in water, and diluted honey, was their favor- ite food, and they would sip it greedily. Holding them by their feet, I would place their beaks in a bottle of syrup, when they would rapidly eject their tongues and withdraw them, repeating this operation until satisfied. The long slender tube, at that time, looks like the tongue of a serpent, it is so deeply cleft, or bifurcated. They never displayed fear, but would readily alight on my finger and glance fearlessly up at me, watching an opportunity, however, for escape. In some of the islands, Martinique especially, the boys shoot the small birds with pellets of clay or hard, round seeds, through hollow canes lined with zinc or glass. They kill a great many in this way. The week before leaving America for the West Indies I was the guest of a friend, who one day came in with an odd-looking cane in his hand, and said: “This is a gun I am going to give you to use in the West Indies. It is for shooting humming-birds. And you will value it all the more highly when I tell you that it once belonged to Dr. Bryant, who used it in his numerous excursions in the Bahamas.” Dr. Bryant, a naturalist of note, and donor to the Boston Society of Natural History of the unsurpassed La Fresnaye collection of birds, spent many years in the West Indies previous to his death, and contributed much 4 50 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. to our knowledge of the ornithology of those islands. The gun looked, as I said, like a cane. The bar- rel was slender, and painted to resemble a stick of mahogany ; the stock unscrewed, and could be put in the pocket; and as the ramrod went inside the barrel, where it was secured by a tompion, and hammer and trigger shut down out of sight, this gun made a very convenient walking-stick. Doubly valued by me. on account of having belonged to my friend and to a natu- ralist whom all the world knew, this gun accompanied me in all my wanderings. It was an excellent arm, and I have shot more than five hundred birds with it alone. Not only on humming-birds, but on larger game, did I try its shooting qualities. For hummers it needed but a taste of powder and a thimbleful of dust shot. Not for the collecting of specimens merely was my mission; I was to obtain all the information possible of the habits of the birds — of their Zome life. It was in this study of them in their forest retreats that I took keen delight, and considered the shooting of them as a necessary evil to procure their identification. In one of my daily rambles for this purpose, I en- tered a gloomy glen in the deep forest. Soon as my eyes became accustomed to the gloom, I espied a humming-bird dancing in the air. There was not a flower in sight, and he did not fly as when in pur- suit of nectar-bearing flowers, but hovered more on suspended wing, darting sidewise, backward and for- ward, with the body in an almost erect position. If through the deep shade a sunbeam slanted athwart ' the glen, his throat gleamed like a ruby. Now, this fantastic dance was not for pleasure, but for food. I ascertained that at such times they are in pursuit of e HUMMING-BIRDS. 51 insects; have seen the insect swarms, and so long as there remain any in sight—and even long’ after they have disappeared from my view—the bird darts hither and thither, snapping them up with great rapid- ity. At such times he does not content himself with a sip here and there and then alight upon some twig or liane, as when gathering honey, but evidently con- siders the fleeting nature of the prey he is pursuing, and shoots from one hunting-ground to another till he has obtained his fill. Beneath me, lining the walls of a deep gorge in whose depths a little rivulet tinkled, was a broad area of the plant called by the natives dal/szer, or wild plantain. The leaves of this plant are about six feet in length, broad and green, like the leaves of a banana. From the bases of these leaves shoot up long spikes of crimson and yellow cups, arranged like the flowers of the gladiolus. They are boat- shaped and about three inches in length, and their bright colors lighted up this shady spot like sunshine. Above their broad silken leaves Garnet-throat hov- ered a moment to scan the interior of these flowers, perchance he might see an insect for him there. A sudden desire came over me to possess the bird, and quick as the thought was formed my gun was at my shoulder, and its sharp report echoed through the silent woods. High and low I searched, but could not find him, until, looking down upon the spot for a final glance, I caught sight of his gleaming throat which a stray sunbeam had lighted on. He lay en- | shrined in one of those golden caskets, leg uplifted and wings loose spread, eclipsing even those bright tints of orange and crimson in the vivid glow of his gorget. 52 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. CHAPTER V. THE BOILING LAKE OF DOMINICA. A WILD CAT.—TREE-FERNS.— MOUNTAIN PALMS.—A RARE HUMMING-BIRD. — THE VALLEY OF DESOLATION. — MISLED BY A BOTTLE.— BOILING SPRINGS.—HOT STREAMS. — SULPHUR BATHS. — THE SOLFATARA.— BUILDING THE AJOUPA.— COOK- ING BREAKFAST IN A BOILING SPRING. Dominica’s fire-cleft summits Rise from bluest of blue oceans ; Dominica’s palms and plantains Feel the trade-wind’s mighty motions, Swaying with impetuous stress The West Indian wilderness. Dominica’s crater-caldron Seethes against its lava-beaches ; Boils in misty desolation ; — Seldom foot its border reaches ; Seldom any traveler’s eye Penetrates its barriers high. Lucy Larcom. HE record of the weather fora month: showery, cool and delightful. On the coast it was ten degrees hotter; but in this elevated valley, two thou- sand feet above the sea, the eastern peaks caught the flying clouds from the “trades” and precipitated their burden of moisture. JHE BOILING PAKE, BOILING LAKE OF DOMINICA. 53 For two weeks I had been awaiting a change of the moon that was expected to bring a drier season, and one night my friend Jean Baptiste came to my hut with the welcome news, “To-morrow make weddah.” As he predicted, the weather cleared. There came to me the sons and nephews of Jean Baptiste (four in num- ber), who were laden, and departed one after the other. Frangois had a large Carib pannier filled with yams, coffee and eggs, a blanket, his never- absent cutlass, and a gun; Michael took my camera, a bag of provisions, cutlass and gun; Joseph, my dark box with photographic chemicals, cutlass and gun; Seeyohl, a large sack of yams and plantains, cut- lass and gun. With my game-basket and humming- bird gun, I followed immediately after my guides. We crossed the three streams hurrying from the mountain to the precipice, where they are compressed into two magnificent waterfalls, and climbed the hills beyond, over a path of interlaced roots, from among which the earth had been washed, leaving a perfect ladder, which served us both in ascending and de- scending. Past one of the little “ provision grounds,” where, among fallen and decayed trees, were growing lusty plantains, bananas, yams and tanniers; across another stream and up farther to the crown of the ridge, where the path led through cool and open “high woods,” where the sun “can’t come,” and where Zer- drix, or mountain doves, sprang up from all about us, and ramizers, or wood-pigeons, dashed in and out of the tall tree-crowns. At eleven o’clock we reached “La Riviére Déjefiner,” where we breakfasted upon boiled eggs and yams, with clear cold water for drink. Our dogs (we had four curs trained to hunt the 54 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. agout7) left us ia the middle of our meal and darted into the forest with loud yelps. Frangois followed them, encouraging them with peculiar cries; for these mountaineers have.a sympathetic understanding with all animate objects about them, and can guide hie on and recall their dogs simply by varying their voice. Frangois urged them on, but in a few minutes they came to a stand-still, and their excited yelps assured us that whatever they were pursuing was brought to bay. We thought they had an agout7—a small ani- mal, in size between a rabbit and a woodchuck — but the execrations of Frangois a little later, which pre- ceded his appearance from the deep shade, prepared us for the unwonted sight, in these wilds, of a wild cat. It was nota wild cat in the true sense of the word—nota Lynx rufus — being only a“ chat maron” —a cat of the domesticated species run wild. It was gray in color, striped with black, and larger and more strongly made than the cats of the coast, who do not have to forage for a living; showing how, in time, a new species might be possibly the result of this change of life. It lives in the deep woods, preying upon small birds, lizards and crabs, and is as savage and untamable as any specimen of the genus to be found in American back-woods. My men skinned it at my request and wrapped the skin in a plantain leaf, to be hung up until our return. The most weird thing about this animal was the eye; the iris yellow, chang- ing to green, but seen glowering from darkness it was red — blood-red — red as fire, that glaring, glassy red which I have seen in the panther, and which makes the wild_fe/de so terrible to face in their lairs. We had here to climb the sides of a steep gorge, the BOILING LAKE OF DOMINICA. 55 walls of which were almost perpendicular, where slip- pery roots and hanging lianes only, enabled us to accomplish the ascent. One portion of our route was through a bowl-shaped depression containing a few acres, in which seemed concentrated all the glorious vegetation indigenous to these tropical forests. Hun- dreds and thousands of plants of strange and beauti- ful shapes were massed together in prodigal confusion. Conspicuous among them was the grand tree-fern. Those who have seen in glass-house or garden of acclimatization, only, the stunted specimens of this plant, can form hardly a conception of the grandeur of these arborescent ferns in their native homes. They are rarely found in perfect development at a lesser al- titude than one thousand feet above the sea, and it is in the “ high-woods” belt alone that they attain their greatest height and perfect symmetry. They love cool and moist situations, revel in shade and delight in solitude. “If,” says Humboldt, “they descend to- ward the sea coast, it is only under cover of thick shade.” I have seen them in these mountains, in the vegetable zone most favorable for their growth — that between fifteen hundred and twenty-five hundred feet above the sea — of a height of thirty or thirty-five feet. Then, truly, were they impressive in their combination of delicately traced leaves and slender stems ; essential- ly children of the tropics. There is sublimity in their expression. There is a suggestiveness of a benedic- tion in those lace-like leaves, which are spread above the head of the observer like outstretched hands, and which only move gently and tremulously, ever pulsat- ing to the slightest breath of air. The light that filters through the cocoa-palm leaves is wonderfully lambent 56 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. and golden, but cannot compare with the chastened sunbeams that reach one standing. beneath this queen of the mountain solitudes ; perchance the sun can per- etrate toit. There are several species, one of which, with unusually prickly stem (the Cyathea Imrayana), is named for Doctor Imray, a resident botanist of the island. Though the ferns replace, in a measure, the palms, in the ascent from coast to mountain-top, yet there is one species that climbs to as high an altitude as the fern, and is found everywhere on the mountain side until the sub-alpine vegetation is reached. This is the mountain palm, the “ palmiste montagne,” the “ moun- tain cabbage,” Euterpe montana. Euterpe, goddess of lyric poetry; no tree of the forest more fitly sym- bolizes the realm of song over which she presides. In every curve and movement is grace and feeling, whether the long leaves wave gently to the mid-day breeze, or whether they beat wildly their sustaining trunks in the violence of the hurricane. It is not tall for a palm, but is slender and has a lovely crown, and ministers to the wants of the mountaineers in many ways, as will be seen farther on. Inhabiting the same region with the tree-fern and loving the same cool, solitary shades, it accompanies it in its march up the mountains, and ceases with it at the upper edge of the high-woods belt. Two such creations were enough to give these forests world-wide fame; but there area thousand others which I cannot describe for want of knowledge, nor if I could, for lack of space. We passed streams every half-mile large enough to turn a mill in the rainy season, but which were then low. Up their rocky beds the trail pursued its way ; BOILING LAKE OF DOMINICA. ‘54 rough, slippery work it was, with many watery escapades and some falls — waterfalls. Through dense groups of callas, and other water plants, we were obliged to force our way. At a jam of trees which I was painfully climbing, I saw a humming- bird poised above a flower. I had been sufficiently long in these mountains, I thought, to procure every species; but this was different from any I had shot, and consequently he was at once added to my other victims, and was picked up below by one of my guides, as he floated like a golden leaf upon the stream. It proved to be a rare species, found heretofore only at the mouth of the Amazon, and rare even there; (the Thalurania wagler?) ; and it now rests in Washing- ton, one of the many types of West Indian birds I had the pleasure of sending to our National Museum. Leaving the stream, we climbed another steep hill- side, and traveled along a ridge, on either side of which are valleys leading tothe seaand ocean. Per- drix and grzves, or thrushes, started up at intervals. The “ seffeur montagne” (the “ mountain whistler ”) sent up liquid melody from every ravine; warblers were few, and humming-birds the only ones abundant. These, and even insects, grew rare and finally ceased entirely as the lake valley was reached, and the sul- phur fumes, ever increasing in volume, were borne to us in dense clouds. We made a detour and again took the stream, now lessened to a trickling run, where everything was decaying, reeking with moisture, and slippery with confervoid growth. No snakes appeared now, not even a lizard; animal life was absent in this approach to the infernal regions. The trail was bar- ricaded by fallen trees, detached rocks, tangled lia- 58 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. nas; flowers were few, the crimson cups of the wild plantain were alone conspicuous. After three hours of hard scrambling we were re- warded by a view of the first sulphur valley contain- ing the“ petzte soufriére,” from which steam ascended in clouds. It is a basin several hundred feet deep, one side of which is broken down, surrounded by steep hills, the valley walls of which, mostly denuded by land-slides, are covered elsewhere by a sparse growth of vegetation. Seeing an opening in the trees, I prepared to descend, though the trail was faint and ‘appeared old. But, being in advance and impatient to get at the wonder below, I ventured alone, and had proceeded but a few rods when I was assured by the sight of a familiar object —a bottle—on a stick. I am not sure but that a sight of it caused me to depart from the beaten path;. at any rate, I was di- verted, though the bottle was in-verted. A shout from above halted me just as I had reached the brink of a _ precipitous bank, the earth of which was beginning to crumble beneath my feet. Dejectedly I retraced my steps, my faith in the goodness of mankind some- what shaken. Months later, while conversing with a good friend — Dr. Nicholls, of Roseau — it came out that he was the culprit; that he had placed the bottle there in the kindness of his heart, as the good Indian is said to have set up a stake in every bog in which he got bemired, as a warning to others. A warning! In this thirsty land a bottle is as necessary to one’s existence as a loaf of bread; and I have met with those who held it more directly essential to the preservation of life than the generally recog- nized “ staff.” BOILING LAKE OF DOMINICA. 59 JHE JRopic STREAM, Nearly half an hour’s careful work was necessary to descend that steep wall, clinging to roots and stems of small trees, at the end of which we reached a gentle slope facing south, covered with trees of goodly size. Here were the remains of an old encamp- ment, empty bottles and sulphur specimens. A stream trickled near by, which we followed to the sulphur basin, whence sulphuretted fumes ascended that would have choked out the stench of a thousand rotten eggs. This was but the beginning of the valley of wonders, the portal to the enchanted land of mysteries. The 60 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. basin was covered with rocks and earth, white and yellow, perforated like the bottom of a colander, whence issued steam and vapor and sulphur fumes, hot air and fetid gases. There was a full head of steam on, puffing through these vents with the noise of a dozen engines. There were spouting springs of hot water; some were boiling over the surface, some sending up a hot spray, some puffing like high-pressure steamers. Clouds of steam drifted across this small valley, now obscuring every rock and hole, now lifting a few feet, only to settle again. The silver in my pockets and the brass mountings of my camera were soon discolored to a blue-black hue. Several streams ran out and down, uniting in a com- mon torrent: streams hot, impregnated with sulphur ; streams cold, clear and sparkling, only a yard apart; water of ail colors, from blue and green to yellow and milk-white. The heat of a West Indian noon was made tenfold oppressive by the hot, moisture-laden atmosphere. My foot sHpped, as we groped our way through the clouds of vapor, and got slightly scalded by breaking through the thin crust that covered the boiling caldron beneath. We descended between huge white rocks and bleached and dying trees to a stream of marvelous beauty, pick- ing our way among volcanic bowlders. At once the scene changed; we entered a ravine through which flowed the streams from above, now mingled in one tepid torrent, along whose banks grew, rank and lux- uriant, plants of such tropic loveliness as made me hold my breath in delight and surprise. Everywhere plashed and tinkled musical waterfalls and cascades ; from all sides little streams came pouring in their trib- BOILING LAKE OF DOMINICA. 61 ute; here acold and sparkling stream, there another boiling hot, its track betokened by a wreath of steam. There were tree-ferns, wild plantains, palms, orchids and wild pines, tropical vines, lianas, strange flowers, gay epiphytes. Up and down and across stretched the lianas, forming a net-work which my guides were obliged to sever repeatedly with their great cutlasses. Along the bank of this stream and through the water we walked in delight—at least I did — for it seemed a very tropical Eden. And yet on all sides of us was barrenness and desolation; these beautiful forms were all created by the action of hot water upon the scanty soil. Climbing, slipping, scrambling, we at last reached a steep hill-side, where trees of different kinds were growing ; and here we rested, for here was the spot selected for our camp. But there yet remained the Lake, to which all these strange sights were but preparatory scenes. It was but a twenty-minutes’ walk, or climb, to the basin. We could hear it roaring behind the hill. Leaving superfluous luggage, and two men to make camp, I started on again with nothing but gun and photo- graphic apparatus. We reached another river, which was tumbling noisily over blanched tree-trunks and sulphur-encrusted rocks, and came out of a large mound of scoriz# and pumice white as snow. Its water was milk-white from the quantity of magnesia held in solution, and steaming hot. Into it poured minor streams of every shade, from white to ochreous, and one black as ink. Up over large rocks, covered with soft sphagnum, green and white in color; up, over and through rapids and around falls, passing feeding streamlets of hot, 62 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. cold, mineral and pure water by turns, into a basin (at the immediate base of a high mountain), with heaps of sulphur-stones scattered over a smooth floor of bi- tumen, with a jet of steam escaping here and there from a hole or fissure in its quaking crust; up the banks of a little stream of sulphur water, subterranean at times, leaving the rivers behind us, and having a steep bank before us, which we quickly scaled, and there revealed to our gaze, lay the Lake. My first feeling was that of disappointment, for the surface of the lake, usually so turbulent, was placid, save in the center a slight movement — more from the escape of gas than from ebullition — disturbed it, and sent ever-expanding wavelets to the shore. It is sunk in a huge basin, which it has hollowed out for itself. Undoubtedly, it was once a spring, or geyser, which, by the volume and violence of its flow, increased and deepened the aperture through which it escaped, until it reached its present dimensions. The height of its surrounding walls I estimate at from eighty to one hundred feet, and its di- ameter at from three hundred to four hundred. As there have been no accurate measurements — indeed, the total number of white men who have looked upon it is not a score—its area will long be a matter of speculation only. The banks are of ferruginous earth, with stones and rocks imbedded, as nearly perpendic- ular as their consistency will allow, and constantly caving and falling in. Two streams of cold water fall into the lake on the north, above which rise high hills. Down the bed of one of these we found a place to leap. .My apparatus was passed down, and I at once proceeded to secure a BOILING LAKE OF DOMINICA. 63 picture of the lake. It was then four o’clock, and the sun had dropped very near the margin of the western hills, and just lingered sufficiently to allow me to secure the first photograph ever made in these moun- tains. Well for me the lake was ina state of qui- escence. Well for the success.of my picture that the water was not in a wild fury of ebullition, and that its basin was not filled with steam, as it had ever been found before. Directly opposite the stream in which I stood was the rent in the wall through which flowed the overflow from the lake, when it was at its work, through which at such times poured a stream of sulphur-water that formed a torrent and descended to the coast below. Through this gap I could look away south, across and over green mountains to the shores of Martinique gleaming through the mist in the waning sunlight, twenty miles away, yet seemingly within an hour’s row of yonder ridge. This rent is from thirty to forty feet in width at the top, and perhaps fifty in depth. I descended to the lake margin. The rim of recent subsidence was clearly defined: a belt of black, yellow and gray deposit, some three feet wide. It was narrower on the second day, and the ebullition had much increased, showing that, though I was the first to discover it in repose, it must be intermittent in character, and was then preparing to boil forth again. For this effect I waited long, much desiring to see it in that state, but was not gratified, though the dis- turbance and noises continued to increase and the water to rise. The temperature of the water, as far out as I could reach my thermometer, was ninety-six degrees; of 64 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. the air at the same time, sixty-seven degrees; of the streams falling into the lake, sixty-five degrees, Fahr- enheit. Some months previously, Dr. Nicholls, one of the original exploring party who discovered this lake, found it at a temperature of one hundred and ninety-six degrees; and Mr. Prestoe, of the Botanic Gardens of Trinidad, recorded from one hundred and eighty to one hundred and ninety degrees. They also found it fiercely boiling, the whole crater filled with steam, and could obtain only occasionally a glimpse of the water and surrounding walls. They found no bottom with a line one hundred and ninety- five feet long, ten feet from the water’s edge. With Mr. Prestoe, I conclude that this solfatara, by widen- ing and deepening its outlet, will eventually lose its lake character and become merely a geyser. From the high bank above the lake, near the gap through which the waters find egress, is a fine view of the whole northern wall, with the streams falling down from the background of mountain, the hollows and miniature valleys and peaks beyond. The river-bed below is dry and yellow; but huge rocks, tons in weight, that the waters have moved from their beds, attest the force of the current when the lake is at its height. From the north, coming down into another desolate valley, are small streams— yellow, white, green, blue. A spring boils up through a hole three feet across, overtopping the surface eight inches or more. The main volume of hot water comes from higher up the mountains, and there is, I think, another source as large as this, which at present is unknown. The mountains around are green with low shrubs, and from the bank above the lake I secured a giant BOILING LAKE OF DOMINICA. 65 lycopodium, which is not found elsewhere in any abundance. We retraced our steps about an hour before sun- set, and found on the hillside a comfortable camp, constructed by Frangois and Joseph during our ab- sence. The ajoupa, or camp constructed in haste, is a peculiarity of these forests. Regarding the etymology of the word, I am in doubt. Humboldt speaks of the ajupas, or kings’ houses, among the Caribs of South America, which were used as houses of enter- tainment for travelers. Whatever the origin of the term, it is now fixed in the patois of the mountain- eers to designate a hut thrown up hastily for tem- porary occupation — what we, in America, would call a“camp.” My men first constructed a framework of light poles, tied together with roots and vines, and covered it with the broad leaves of the daliszer, or wild plantain (Heliconda behia). This plant, which grows everywhere in shade and moisture, is one of the attractive features of the vegetation here. Its leaf is like an elongated banana-leaf, but not so wide, and with greater strength and toughness. Like the palm, this plant serves a great variety of uses. Its root is boiled and fed to hogs, I believe; the mid-rib of the leaf is stripped and split and woven into baskets; the leaves are used for the thatching of huts, as substitutes for table-cloths and plates in the woods, as envelopes in which to wrap anything of soft nature, as butter or honey, —in fact, as wrap- ping for everything portable, the tissue is so fine and flexible. The, young leaves are our substitute for drinking-cups; and it is more convenient to twist off an overhanging leaf and throw it away when done, - 2 66 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. than to bear about with you a clumsy cup. Its utility, then, is second only to that of the cocoa palm. They had brought up huge bundles of the leaves from the river below. Slicing the under side of the mid-rib half-way through with a diagonal cut, leaving a barb by which to attach it to the cross-pole, Fran- gois handed the leaves to Joseph, who rapidly placed them in position, attached to the pole and kept in place by the projecting point, one row overlapping the other. In a short time they had made a thick roof, completely impervious to water, which was good for a week, so long as the leaves remained green and were not split and shrunken by the sun. A raised platform of poles, all cut with the cutlass, was covered with a good layer of leaves, and upon this I spread my blanket and reposed quietly all night, my faithful boys stretched upon the ground, lulled to sleep by the rushing of the waterfalls. “La belle,” the firefly, illumined our camp in the evening, and an odorous fire of the gum of the flam- beau-tree gave both light and fragrant incense. Over this, Joseph, in his French patois and broken Eng- lish, told the story of the discovery of the lake by Mr. Watt, the one who first surmised its existence, in 1875. This gentleman, a magistrate in the colony, was prone to wander in the mountains in search of adventure. One day he had penetrated farther than usual, by following a valley that led up into the inte- rior, and noticed in the air distinct and powerful sul- phur fumes. Later, he set out to ascertain the cause, taking with him two negroes as guides, but, through the pusillanimity of his men, who abandoned him, was lost in the forest for several days. Let Joseph tell the story: \ BOILING LAKE OF DOMINICA. 67 “Monsieur Watt he walk, walk, walk, pour tree day; he lose hees clo’s, hees pant cut off, he make nozing pour manger but root; no knife, no nozing; hees guide was neegah [the mountaineers, though some of them negroes themselves, have great con- tempt for town negroes]; zey was town neegah, and leab him and loss him. He come to black man’s house in ze wood, and ze black man zink he joméze, and he run; when he come back wiz some mo’ men, for look for jomdze, Monsieur Watt he make coople of sign, he have to lost hees voice and was not speak, and zey deescover heem.” At daybreak we were stirring. I descended the bank and waded up the stream to take my morning bath. There were two streams, one hot, one cold, which ran in near channels, meeting below. Fol- lowing the warm one, stepping from pool to pool, I reached a fall about twelve feet in height, surrounded by a wealth of tropical plants, from the depths of which it suddenly appeared. And it was hot—or just as hot as skin could bear —as I sidled under it, first a hand, then an arm, then a shoulder, until the whole volume of warm water fell squarely upon my head. Ah! it was the perfection of luxurious sensa- tions. I essayed to shout aloud in my delight, but the falling water drowned my voice, and I paddled in the pool in silent ecstasy, drawing in long breaths, and allowing the rushing of the water, the delicious warmth of the bath, the flying spray, to lull me to repose. I think I should have fallen asleep had I not been warned, by slipping from the rock on which I sat, that I was becoming unconscious. It was too blissful to leave, too soothing, and I stepped from un- 68 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. der the warm douche only to return again and again. Reaching out my hand, I placed it in a stream of cold water, sulphur water at that, while I sat in this tepid bath. What benefits might be derived by those unfor- tunates afflicted with rheumatism and kindred com- plaints, from a dip in these healing waters! They would need a balloon, though, as means of convey- ance, for only travel-toughened backs and sturdy limbs can accomplish this journey at present. My guides boiled coffee, and, that imbibed, we shouldered our traps and marched back on the home- ward trail. We reached the first Soufriére — the val- ley of desolation — and halted, to allow me to take a few photographs, and to cook our breakfast. The sulphur fumes were so strong as to form a coating of sulphide of silver on my negatives, but not to an ex- tent to injure them. The largest boiling spring is five feet across. As some of these seemingly boiling springs are not in complete ebullition, but have their waters agitated from escape of gases, I took care to plunge my ther- mometer into all. Several registered two hundred and eight degrees —the lake is more than two thou- sand feet above sea-level — and many one hundred and forty and one hundred and sixty degrees. One unfortunate experimenter, later in the season, plunged a “store” thermometer into one of these springs, and burst it, as its capacity was not equal to such high temperature. Perforating the broad fields of calcined stones are little holes, whence issue steam and hot air; very few are inactive. Some, on the hillside, are large BOILING LAKE OF DOMINICA 69 as an open grate, and have that shape. Into these you can look deep down into black holes, sulphur crystals in beautiful golden needles lining throat and flue. It required great care not to break through the crust in many places. My guide was constantly warning me: “Have attention where you make you feets |” While I was preparing chemicals and collecting minerals, my boys were busily cooking our break- fast; and they prepared it without fire, too, and so expeditiously as to cause me wonder. In the forest they had found some wild yams; Frangois had shot a few giant thrushes; there were a few eggs remain- ing of those we had brought with us. Curiously I watched them at their work. Tying the yams in a bit of cloth, and tying that to the end of a stick, Joseph thrust them into the large boiling spring. A few minutes later—I do not know just how many—he drew them out completely boiled. The eggs were treated in like manner, and lastly the birds. Then we withdrew to the shade of a near clump of balisiers, on the bank of a clear spring, plucked a few leaves for plates, for cups, for napkins, for protection from the damp earth as we sat down, sprinkled our curiously-cooked food with pepper and salt, and feasted merrily, though half strangled by the sulphur fumes. In watching this cooking process, I could not but think of our own wonderful geysers in the Yellowstone, where explorers caught trout in a stream and cooked them in a boiling spring, without removing the fish from the hook or changing their own positions. Then we turned our backs upon this valley of won- - 4oO CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. ders — this collection of craters within a crater long ago inactive. My guides placed their loads upon their heads, and we climbed the hills, keeping time to the rhythmic pulsations of a steam-vent, which ejected its vapor with regular puffs, the din of which rang through the forest. I cannot but feel how poor and meagre is this description of that wonderful Boiling Lake, hid in the bosom of those solitary mountains in that tropical island. The time may come—and it will be better for Americans if it were speedily to come — when the great attractions of these islands will be better known, and I may not be able to say, as I say now with truth, I am the only American who has seen Dominica’s Boiling Lake. We reached Riviére Déjetiner just at dark. I was ahead. And here let me explain how I acquired a reputation as.a pedestrian, and why, if you speak of the writer to‘ one of these mountaineers, he will shrug his shoulders and exclaim, “Ah! Monsieur Fred, he walk like ze debbil!” Here is a statement of the reason; and I leave it to any sane person if, he would not have done the same under similar cir- stances: Each member of our party had a gun— my four men and myself. In going up and down those cliffs, the guns carried by my guides were sure to point at me, no matter how I would try to dodge them. If I lagged behind, I was confronted by a black muzzle; if I went ahead, two or more pointed at my exposed back. Now, I have carried a gun ever since I could well use one, and for two years have had one constantly by my side; but I never allow one to be pointed at me, © BOILING LAKE OF DOMINICA. WI if I am aware of it. Going homeward, I stretched my legs to their utmost, and kept ahead, scrambling over rocks and tree-trunks, and swinging myself down steep banks by the roots of trees. My trowsers were torn into shreds; the perspiration started, legs shook, and arms trembled. But I was determined to keep out of range of those dreaded guns; and I did, ar- riving at my cabin full half an hour ahead of my guides, who had supposed me lost and had detailed two of their number to look me up. Jean Baptiste, my host and forager-for-food, stood in the doorway with a candle, and inside there stood a welcome table with a good supper—yams and eggs and ‘tender mountain cabbage. Speaking of my hot bath to Jean Baptiste, that jewel instantly exclaimed that he had forgotten to show me the best in the island, situated only a gun- shot from my hut. Next day we visited it. Beneath tall gommier trees stretching down lianes forty feet long, shaded by broad-leaved plantains, was a pool twenty feet across, made by damming a little brooklet with volcanic rock. Its bottom was stone and gravel. A tree-trunk had fallen across the stream, on which I threw my clothes. The runlet was tepid, the pool a little warmer. Suddenly my foot grew hot, as though stung by a scorpion, and I became aware that the pool was heated from below by small jets of hot water forced up through crevices in the rocky crust. How thick was that crust? Down the hillside, into the bath, trickled warm water. A grotto had been hollowed out by the action of these streams, and from this water was spouted in hot spray and jets, heating the bath for a square yard around. This grotto was lined with 42 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. crystals of sulphur, lime, and magnesia, and in places was green like chalcedony —a most beautiful minia- ture.of some cave I have seen, where stalagmites of every shape were colored by salts of iron. Floating in this healing pool, in an element delight- fully warm, I resigned myself to the unalloyed delight that dripping water, tropical plants, and trees, and balmy atmosphere, all contribute to induce. Floating thus in dreamy sensuousness, I wondered vaguely why this free life of the forest, untrammeled by care or desire of gain, could not always exist for me. It was too irksome to even think an answer; impossible to give it utterance; and it remains unanswered to this day. AMONG THE CARIBS. 93 CHAPTER VI. AMONG THE CARIBS. THEIR PEACEFUL LIFE.— FRUITS AND FOOD. — THE SECOND VOY- AGE OF COLUMBUS. — DISCOVERY OF THE CARIBS. — FIERCE NATURE AND INTELLIGENCE OF THE “CANNIBAL PAGANS.” — UNLIKE THE NATIVES OF THE GREATER ANTILLES, — THE CARIB RESERVATION IN DOMINICA. — MY CAMP IN CARIB COUNTRY. — TWO SOVEREIGNS. — THE VILLAGE. — THE HOUSES. — CATCHING A COOK.— A TORCHLIGHT PROCESSION. — LIGHT- ING A ROOM WITH FIRE-FLIES. — “LOOK ZE COOK.” — LABOR. — DOMESTIC RELATIONS. — A DRUNKEN INDIAN. — WILD MEN AND NAKED CHILDREN. —CARIB PANNIERS. -—- THE ONLY ART PRESERVED FROM THEIR ANCESTORS. N two of the smaller islands of the Caribbean Sea lives a vestige of a once powerful people. A people with a history; an unwritten and forgotten history, running back unnumbered ages, farther than we can trace it; but beginning to be known to civil- ized man when the existence of America was first be- coming evident to his awakened senses. Peaceful and gentle, singularly mild and affectionate, they dwell happily in their rude houses of thatch, draw- ing their sustenance from mother earth with occasional forays upon the sea. Bananas, plantains, yams, and tanniers are the crops they cultivate, and altogether rely upon. The bread-fruit grows about their cabins, and the mango 74 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. and cocoa palm, embowering their dwellings in per- petual shade; and the calabash (furnishing nearly all their vessels for culinary use) spreads its gnarled branches, with a wealth of useful products, at their doors. Guavas grow wild, and the berries and buds of the mountain palm, with many other fruits and nuts of the forest, furnish them with food. The many rivers yield to them delicious crayfish, water snails, and limpets. If they can get rum, now and then, they drink it and are happy—they are happy any way, even without this occasional luxury. In a land that is theirs by right; beneath a sky ever genial, though not always smiling ; able to satisfy hunger by little toil in the garden, or exertion upon the sea, or in the river, it is not strange that they should be content with the bounties of the present, nor care to question the precarious prospects of the future. In the morning the coolness of the bath provokes one to linger, and later the warmth of the sun seems to warn one from much exertion, while the heat of mid-day positively forbids it. The increased coolness of the afternoon, when the sun dips down behind the mountain ridge, leaving two good hours of dreamy shadow, tempts one to give one’s self over to the enjoy- ment of mere existence. Thus the days pass away in this delightful clime. And now, that you, reader, may better understand who are these people whom I would describe in the following pages, allow me to go back a few centuries; let me turn, in fact, to the first page in American history, and let the same great navi- gator who opened the way for the discovery of our continent, relate the story of the finding of the Caribs. Columbus sailed away from Cadiz, on his second AMONG THE CARIBS. 95 voyage, with a large fleet, fully equipped, September 25, 1493. On the second day of November he first sighted land, and in exploring the shores of the island — Guadeloupe — he found the people of whom he was in search. “Here the Spaniards first saw the @nana, or pine-apple, the flavor and fragrance of which astonished and delighted them. But what struck them with horror was the sight of human bones, vestiges, as they supposed, of unnatural repasts, and skulls apparently used as vases and other household utensils. These dismal objects convinced them that they were now in the abodes of the Cannibals, or Caribs, whose predatory expeditions and ruthless char- acter rendered them the terror of these seas. “In several hamlets they met with proofs of the cannibal propensities of the natives. Human limbs were suspended to the beams of the houses as if curing for provisions; the head of a young man, recently killed, was yet bleeding ; some parts of his body were roasting before the fire, others boiling with the flesh of geese and parrots.” On the following day the boats landed and suc- ceeded in taking and bringing off a boy and several women. From them Columbus learned that the in- habitants of this island were in league with two neigh- boring islands, but made war upon all the rest. They even went on predatory enterprises, in canoes made from the hollowed trunks of trees, to the distance of one hundred and fifty leagues. Their arms were bows and arrows, pointed with the bones of fishes or shells of tortoise, and poisoned with the juice of a certain herb. They made descents upon the islands, ravaged the villages, carried off the + 76 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. youngest and handsomest of the women, and made prisoners of the men, to be killed and eaten. “The admiral learned from them that most of the men of the island were absent, the king having sailed some time before, with ten canoes and three hundred war- riors, on a cruise in quest of prisoners and booty. When the men went forth on these expeditions, the women remained to defend their shores from inva- sion.” This island of Guadeloupe was their northernmost stronghold. Continuing his cruise northward, to- ward Haspaniola, and coasting the islands, Columbus discovered the last resident Caribs at Santa Cruz. Here a boat’s crew of Spaniards attacked an Indian canoe containing several men and women. The fight was long and desperate. Even after the canoe was overturned the Indians fought in the water, “discharg- ing their arrows while swimming, as dexterously as though they had been upon firm land; and the women fought as fiercely as the men.” “The hair of these savages was long and coarse; their eyes were encircled with paint, so as to give them a hideous expression; and bands of cotton were bound firmly above and below the muscular parts of the arms and legs, so as to cause them to swell to a disproportioned size.” Humboldt makes mention of this custom, in vogue among the Caribs of South America, in the early part of the present century. . “The warlike and unyielding character of these people, so different from that of the pusillanimous nations around them, and the wide scope of their en- terprises and wanderings, like those of the nomad tribes of the Old World, entitle them to distinguished AMONG THE CARIBS. "7 attention. They were trained to war from their in- fancy. As soon as they could walk, their intrepid mothers put in their hands the bow and arrow, and prepared them to take an early part in the hardy enterprises of their fathers. Their distant roamings by sea made them observant and intelligent. The natives of the other islands only knew how to divide time by day and night, by the sun and moon; whereas these had acquired some knowledge of the stars, by which to calculate the times and seasons.” This is the account, drawn mainly from Irving, of the discovery and condition of the first cannibals ever beheld by white men. This second voyage of Colum- bus commenced under flattering auspices: to find at the outset a new people, a new fruit; to add to the language at least two new words — Carzd and Can- nibal, — this were enough to satisfy any explorer. But Columbus was in search of gold. He could not brook delay in a country where the precious metal did not exist; and though the forests were filled with countless trees possessing spicy gums and rare virtues, he could not stop to put them to the test. He sailed away north after capturing some women and children. The mind of the great admiral was keenly alive to any opportunity for serving his sovereigns and himself. Finding no gold, he looked about for some means of making it. He sent the captive Caribs home to Spain to be sold as slaves. And this is how the great and good Columbus proposed to reimburse his sovereigns for their outlay, and to furnish the colony with live- stock. “In this way the peaceful islanders would be freed from warlike and inhuman neighbors; the royal revenue would be greatly enriched, and a vast number 48 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. of souls would be snatched from perdition, and carried, as it were, by main force to heaven.” Though the gentle and humane Isabella would not listen to this monstrous scheme, there is little likeli- hood that it would have succeeded with the Caribs ; for those old conguzstadores, though valiant inquisi- tors, rarely measured swords with these antagonists who loved to fight. Although, a matter of history, the followers of Columbus murdered more than a mil- lion of the peaceful inhabitants of the larger islands — Cuba, Haiti, Jamaica, Porto Rico— who were dis- covered in a state of happiness and innocence, they always evaded encounters with the “ Pagan Cannibals.” Thus to the prowess of their ancestors are the Caribs of the present day indebted for their existence, when not a vestige remains of the more numerous but peace- ful tribes north of them. But I did not intend, in digressing, to follow the voyages of Columbus; to describe how he converted these fair islands, teeming with happy life, into hells of misery, and left behind him and his monsters a trail of blood and fire. It was merely to begin at the be- ginning, to bring before you the Carib as he was when found, nearly four centuries ago, and to show, by con- trast with his present life, how he has been almost civilized out of existence. . I had been a month in the interior of Dominica, living in the woods, hunting new birds, and enjoying the novel experiences of camp life in tropical moun- tains. From time to time came reports from the Carib country, that only strengthened the determination I had formed of penetrating to their stronghold. That they lived secluded from the world, held no intercourse AMONG THE CARIBS. 79 with other people; naked they wandered at will in the forest; without houses, they slept on the ground on beds of leaves. Sending my collections of birds to the coast and ordering thence a fresh supply of provis- ions and ammunition, I left the Caribbean side of the island and marched over the mountains toward the Atlantic, with three stout girls and a man laden with my effects. The journey was to occupy two days, as the rivers were swollen. They had “come down,” in the language of the country; but when a river is “down” in the West Indies it is wf — having rushed down from the mountains, swollen by some heavy rain, and flooded the lowlands. The Carib reservation in Dominica extends from Mahoe River to Crayfish River, a distance of about three miles along the Atlantic coast, and away back into the mountains as far as they please to cultivate. Though each family has a little garden adjacent to the dwelling, any individual can select an un- occupied piece of ground on the feighboring hills, or mountain sides, for cultivation. All their provision grounds (as are called the mountain gardens where the staple fruits and vegetables* are grown) are ata distance from the house, some even two miles away, solitary openings made in the depths of the high woods. As the soil in general is very thin, and does not support a crop for many successive years, these gardens are being constantly made afresh. As I rode along, every house seemed deserted; no face appeared, and I met no one save the ancient * These are, the Yam (Dioscorea sativa and D. alata); the Sweet Potato (Batatas edulis); the Cassava (Fatropha manihot and ¥. janipha); Banana (usa paradistaca); Plantain (Alusa sapientum), and Tannier (Caladium sagittefoltum). 80 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. king, old George, who was named for King George the Third, tottering toward the plantations, to spend for rum some money he had earned. There were two sovereigns, in fact, for the Carib chief held in his hand a golden one, of English coinage. The houses are low and thatched deeply with calumet grass tied in bundles and lashed tightly upon frame-works of poles. Some of them were open at the sides, though a few were built up at sides and ends, with wooden doors and shutters. Near each hut is the cook-house, a roof of thatch supported upon four poles; or again, merely a “lean-to,” the roof slanting up from the ground with just room enough for the cook to squat under while attending the fire. Beneath this roof, on a few stones which support the cooking-utensils, is usually an old iron pot, which serves a variety of uses. Twice a day it is brought into requisition for the household; at other times it is open to the inspection of hogs and strangers. The rudest cabins, but at the same time the most pictu- resque, were those composed wholly of grass and reeds with wattled sides, looking like the huge stacks of grass one sees on marshes and meadows in America. Even the doors of these huts were made of canes and flags, wattled together with reeds, while the windows were merely loop-holes. The roads, though narrow bridle-paths, are good, as the Caribs seem to take a pride in keeping them in order. Either through fear or pride they obey all the laws imposed upon them by the crown and colony, and always perform their quota of road labor without a murmur. The path turned suddenly, and at the base of the hill we came abruptly upon the Riviére Saint Marie, AMONG THE CARIBS. «Br ;AN ]NDIAN KITCHEN, where, sporting in the water, were several naked children, and a girl and woman washing clothes. Of course, there was a general stampede as I crossed the tiver ; and one could not have told, five minutes later, but for the garments drying on the rocks, that there had been a Carib near. I rode up a gentle eminence, and was introduced to the house in which I was to reside for a short time. But one family lived near, an old Carib woman with five children. The first object conveying a hint of the proximity of Salibia, the Carib village, is a cross — indicating the religion of the people and the site of a cemetery. It stands up lone and majestic, a background of hills giving it prominence, its arms stretched out gaunt 82 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. and bare, to which the continual trade-winds have given a color, gray and weather-beaten. Palm and plantain crop out on the hillsides beyond, and the formér thrusts its head up from the river ravines be- low. Behind it, hid by the swell of the knoll, are the graves—not many, yet not few, for so small a settle- ment — simply raised hillocks of earth; and some have upon them a few flowers, which seem to be occasionally renewed. Upon the graves, all the trees have fallen prostrate, or have been felled, to cover them; with limbs stretched at the foot of the cross. I have never been in a cemetery that so appealed to my feelings as this. All is still, and solitude reigns. From the slight depression of the surface here, nothing is seen evincing human occupancy of the valley, until the foot of the cross is reached. Many an evening, during my six weeks’ stay in that lonely valley, have I climbed to the base of the cross and sat there enjoying the silence and solitude. From that point one overlooks the lower half of the valley, which is shut in on three sides by high hills covered with forest, abandoned fields, and provision grounds, alter- nating. Beneath, the most prominent object is a rude chapel, a loosely-built structure, to which comes monthly a lusty priest, to care for the souls and the silver of the people. Lower still, are the four or five thatched huts comprising the village of Salibia; but one of these is occupied, and the cocoa palms rustle their leaves in a desolate place; and their rustling, with the eternal roar of the ocean, is the only sound heard from morning to night. : There are sea-grapes there in perfumed bloom, among the satin leaves of which dart humming-birds, AMONG THE CARIBS. 83 sugar-birds, and drowsy bees. This is the valley in which I became acquainted with the “Cannibal Caribs ” of Columbus, this secluded spot on the At- lantic coast of Dominica, in the month of April, 1877. As servant and guide I was fortunate in securing a half Carib, named Meyong. At least, Meyong was the nearest English equivalent for his barbarous French name. He was, as I have said, but half a Carib; the other half was black; colors so deftly mingled, so skillfully laid on, that they resulted in a rich olive brown — quite a fashionable shade. Meyong hunted with me, found for me people to do my heavy work, ate my food and drank my rum, and slept. He did everything but work; and yet he was the most faith- ful, trustworthy servant I ever had, and anything I wanted he would get, or, if too much trouble for him, induce some one to get for me. He studied my wants so closely that I had ever a retinue of willing young- sters at beck and call, all conjured up by Meyong to relieve his labors. His faithfulness and literal obedience to orders are well illustrated by the manner in which he procured for me a cook. We passed several weeks tranquilly together. My hammock swung in the breeze at night, and I was careful not to hunt in the breathless heat of noon. But there comes an end, sooner or later, to human enjoyment. Our cook, Meyong’s sister, concluded, without warning, to visit a friend on the far side of the mountain; and one day, when my guide and my- self returned hot and weary from the hunt, the sun at meridian and the parched earth radiating heat like a furnace, there was no breakfast, and no one to get it, either. 84 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. The gentleness of that animal, man, when, upon returning to his domicil, he finds a meal unprepared, is proverbial. He has been known to endure without a murmur, for at least three minutes, by the aid of the morning paper; but I had no paper — had not seen one in two months’ time — and imagine, if possible, the totality of patience necessary to endure the prepa- ration of a breakfast, while, even at the time your ap- petite is raging, and hunger gnawing at your vitals, the potatoes and plantains are slumbering on the hill- side, and the fish still disporting themselves in their watery element. It is not at all wonderful if I said to Meyong, in my placid intervals, that we must have another cook at once, even if we had to send to town for one. He acquiesced in this decision, but said nothing more, for he was as sparing of speech as of muscle, and soon afterward disappeared. Thinking he had gone in pursuit of a dove, whose mournful note I had heard above me, I retired to my cabin, after a frugal lunch, to sleep. Later in the afternoon, even after I had prepared all my speci- mens of the morning, and the shadows of the hills were drawing themselves across the valley, he came not. The sun went down, leaving the valley cool and delightful, and darkness drew swiftly near. The stars came out, and all about my cabin was silent as the grave, and dark. My boy had not returned; I sat in my doorway till late, it must have been nine o’clock, and was about retiring, when my attention was arrested by a noise. It grew louder, and then I saw a light gleam and disappear. I watched for it till again it shone out, at the top of a rising knoll, much \ AMONG THE CARIBS. 85 nearer, and I could distinguish two torches, held aloft by unsteady hands, approaching through the forest. What did it mean? The noise increased, and when the lights flashed nearer I saw there were three persons: two holding the torches, which sent up broad flame and thick smoke, supporting between them another who ap- peared unable to walk unaided. They were shouting some bacchanalian song, and their unsteady move- ments convinced me that they were intoxicated. Ina few minutes they would be at my door, as they were already at the river, and then there might be trouble ; for, though quiet enough when sober, the Carib will sometimes quarrel when drunk. Acting upon the resolution of the instant, I barri- caded door and window, slipped a couple of cartridges into my gun, and retired to my hammock. By this time they were upon me, pounding heavily at my door, and shouting, in unintelligible French, threats, entreaties, imprecations. But I kept silence, which only exasperated them the more, and at last I heard one of them say, “I will see if he is there;” and then, later, when I thought they had gone, my attention was drawn, by a slight rustling, to a crack in the walls, and I saw sailing into the room one after an- other, tiny sparks of fire, glowing with a greenish phosphorescent light. They did not drop inert, these sparks, nor did they set fire to my thatch, for they were sparks of the animal kingdom, elaters, fire- flies, two of which will give out sufficient light to read by. Would any one but an Indian, a child of the forest, have thought of this original way of lighting an apart- ment? 86 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. These little gleaming messengers increased in num- ber, and the darkness was crossed and re-crossed by fiery trails of light; and still the busy fingers of my assailants thrust them in more and more. At last it became quite light, and by an inadvertent movement I exposed myself. With a shout, they proclaimed the success of their de- vice, and demanded I should let them in. But this I would not do, and they later subsided, after howling themselves hoarse. Before the termination of the entertainment I had fallen asleep, and did not awake until early the next morning. Just beforethe river, which ran near my hut, trickles through yy the huge rocks to the farts JxPe. . ocean, it leaves sev- eral small pools, hol- lowed from the solid rock by the waves. The sun rises so quickly in that latitude, coming up hot and glaring from the waves, that a bath, to be refresh- ing, must be taken at dawn. The morning was cool and cloudy; a few birds were chirping as I stepped from my doorway. I drew back suddenly, saluted by a blast from what I thought must be an asthmatic fish-horn. Peering cautiously out, I ascertained, by Ue et yl =S AMONG THE CARIBS. 87 the rapidly increasing light, that the noise had a harmless source, though I was correct in my con- jecture that it proceeded from a horn, for it came from my Indian friends of the preceding night, who had indeed taken a horn too much. Tracing this mighty snore to its source, I saw that it was produced by the combined efforts of three individuals, who lay stretched upon the grass beneath the palms. There was my boy, and another Indian, and between them, secured by ropes of vines, a girl of about eighteen. As I was curiously regarding this group, Meyong awoke, and eying me with a look of triumph, ex- claimed : * Ah, monsieur, you no savez; look, ze cook!” It was too true; the lawless savage had made un- successful attempts to hire a cook the previous after- noon, and late, meeting this girl in the forest, had captured her with the aid of his friend. And I, think- ing these zealous friends had approached my hut with dire intent, had locked them out and gone supperless to bed. Among men and women, labor is equally divided. In the house, the woman is supposed to do all the work, but in the gardens and in the woods they work together. She prepares all the food and makes the fires; and, as there seems to exist a perfect under- standing on this point, it is not so fruitful a source of discontent as in other and less-favored climes. The women are generally well treated and loved. An old writer says, the Caribs were noted for their in- difference to their women, while the tribes of neigh- boring islands were excessively fond of their wives. Those other tribes are now extinct; but the Carib 88 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. \ character must have most wonderfully changed, for they now treat their wives well, even love them. For certain misdemeanors they claim the privilege, and exercise it, too, of beating them soundly. If a woman quarrel with another, of whom she is jealous with regard to her husband’s affections, she is generally* treated by her lord to an interview with the stick. But as a community, they dwell together in amity, loving one another, and taking affectionate interest in their children. One day, upon the solicitations of an Indian, I went to his hut to see a native dance. This man was very drunk; as he approached his hut he darted in and called for his wife. What was my astonishment to see him, instead of pounding her, throw his arm around her neck and kiss her. I had been among them two weeks before I knew there were Indians in the woods about me, other than those living along and near the road. But one after- noon, in a hunt among the hills, I discovered four huts, the inmates of which, unless suddenly surprised, hid themselves at my approach. They were dressed very meagerly: a shirt for the men, and for the women a torn skirt. In the woods and in the provision- grounds, I met children, from eight to thirteen years old, entirely naked. These people never appear to the white inhabitants; they make a few baskets which their neighbors dispose of for them, but they never leave the woods, not having overcome their original savagery. Basket-making is the only art they have preserved from the teachings of their ancestors; but in this they indeed excel. Their baskets have such a reputa- AMONG. THE CARIBS. 89 tion throughout all the islands that they command large prices, and were it not for their innate laziness, and the scarcity of the peculiar shrub of which the baskets are composed, these people might attain to a degree of affluence. These “panniers,” or baskets, are made of all sizes, some large as a common trunk. They are made, sometimes, of a reed called roseau, but the best are made from a plant called the mahoe, which is now so scarce that the basket-makers have to take long journeys into the forests to obtain it. By burying it in the ground, and using for some the juices of certain plants, they give to the plaits a variety of colors. There are two thicknesses, and between them layers of the wild plantain, which make them per- fectly water-tight. I have one which was in use nearly a year, being constantly carried on the heads of my attendants; and even yet it will, I think, hold water. All the country people desire to possess a pannier, or Carib basket, which serves them as a light and port- able trunk. go CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. CHAPTER VII. SOCIAL LIFE, APPEARANCE, AND LANGUAGE OF THE CARIBS. HAPPY CHILDREN. — CLEANLINESS. — PRIMITIVE INNOCENCE. — A MODEST MAIDEN.—DRESS.— FACE AND FIGURE. — FLAT- TENING THE FOREHEAD.— UGLY MEN AND WOMEN. — CARIB HOSPITALITY. — THE BASKET-WEAVER. — TROPIC NOONTIDE. — RELIGION.— THE DYING WOMAN.— A LOST SKELETON.— BURIAL OF THE DEAD.— THE WAKE.— ST. VINCENT CARIBS.— TWO DIA- LECTS. —— THE AROWAKS. — AN AGREEABLE TONGUE. — VOCAB- ULARY.— CALIBAN A CARIB, AND CRUSOE’S MAN FRIDAY. — CRUSOE’S ISLAND. BLACK CARIBS. — WEAPONS AND UTENSILS OF STONE. — ‘“ THUNDERBOLTS.” — CARIB SCULPTURE. — A SAC- RIFICIAL STONE. — WHENCE CAME THEY ?— THEIR NORTHERN LIMIT. — A SOUTHERN ORIGIN, — THEIR LOST ARTS.— A DYING PEOPLE. HE Carib children should be the happiest on earth. Unencumbered by clothing, they wan- der over the hills and along the shore as they feel disposed. The rocky rivers give them delightful re- treats from the sun, where they paddle in the pools, hunt for crayfish, and sleep upon the broad bosoms of the rocks. Either from habits of cleanliness or love of the water, every member of a household takes a daily bath in the river. They are consequently always clean, and, though ragged, are entirely free from those odors which make the sable brother so offensive. If their garments get soiled, they soon re- INDIAN HOME LIFE. or move them, even if they have to wash them while themselves naked, and wait in the shade while they dry inthe sun. In washing they use their hands in scrubbing the clothes, and do not belabor them with clubs, as in the more civilized districts, and in Mar- tinique, where the sound of the washing is loud in the land. The prettiest picture of Indian life I have seen was during’ a hunt in a secluded nook among the hills behind the settlement of Salibia. The Riviére Col- lette tumbles over and among great rocks, through narrow chasms shaded by tree-ferns and mountain palms. Many water plants grow in clumps, and little pools are formed among the rocks. As I was leap- ing the stones, in crossing, I heard a low murmur of song, and looking up, saw a young girl of sixteen sitting on a large bowlder, mending a handkerchief. Around her, drying’in the sun, were her clothes, which she had washed — probably all she possessed. She was so absorbed in her work, so carelessly happy in the freedom of this wild seclusion, that I had nearly crossed before she observed me, when, with maid- enly modesty, she covered her face with the handker- chief. The majority of the people go about lamentably ragged. There are few shoes and stockings in the community, and those who have them only put them on upon great occasions, when they appear ill at ease, cramped and uncomfortable. So it is with regard to dress; while, with a dress well made and fitting nicely, the women consider themselves magnificently arrayed, to me they appeared at a great disadvantage. In short frock descending to the knees, gathered about g2 CAMPS IN. THE CARIBBEES. the hips with a twist of lialine, or forest vine, their hair contained in a simple kerchief, or, better, flowing in luxuriant tresses down their backs, as they appear when going to labor in the forest, they are in perfect character. This brings me,to speak of the appearance of the Caribs, of their form and color, which make them different from people of other nationalities. Through the changes of climate and residence, and the greater .changes wrought by intermarriage with other tribes and with the negroes, the true Carib type is likely soon to be lost. Jt is, however, lighter in complexion than that of the North American Indian, — so light, that, from their peculiar cast of golden-brown, they have acquired the name of 2é//ow Indians. From my photographs it will be seen that the type is more of the Mongol than of any other. A peculiar instance came under my observation in one hamlet, where a Chinaman — pure Mongolian—had married a yellow Carib. Their progeny, a numerous family of chil- dren, could not be distinguished from the Indian chil- dren around them. One beautiful feature about them is their hair, which is abundant, long, and purple- black; it is finer than that of our Indians, though not so fine as that of the Caucasian type.* Though early losing the grace and symmetry of form of childhood, through labor in the fields, ex- posure to the sun, and a natural tendency to corpu- * “That cacique that was a stranger had his wife staying at the port where we ankored, and in all my life I have seldom seenea better favored woman. She was of good stature, with blacke eies, fat of body, of an excellent countenance, her haire almost as long as hirselfe, tied up againe in pretie knots.” — Sir W. RALEIGH’S Discovery of Guiana. INDIAN HOME LIFE. 93 lency, both men and women preserve the shapeliest of limbs. The arms of the men are extremely mus- cular, and their breasts huge knots of muscle. The head is well shaped and gracefully poised. This, as well as the straightness of the back, and backward throw of the broad shoulders, may be owing to the universal practice of carrying every kind of load upon the head. The custom of flattening the forehead by compression, which was universal until the commence- ment of the present century, is not now practiced. Let me subjoin a description of a boy and girl, made as they stood before me, in the primitive garb of innocence and virtue, two years ago. The boy, aged eleven or twelve, had a face round, with chin of good shape, and small; nose rather flat; mouth small; ears small; eyes almond-shaped, with black silken fringe; the forehead broad and prominent; hair purple-black, abundant, cut short above the eyes and flowing behind; the shoulders straight—a plumb- line dropped from the junction of cervical and dorsal vertebrze would touch the heels; back hollowed; ab- domen full; legs straight; hips not large but power- ful; breasts well rounded. The girl was an exact picture of the boy in the features above described ; the mouth was daintily cut, with thin lips; and grace and lithesome freedom were in every turn and mo- tion. It almost gave pain to think that these sprightly little beauties would develop into coarse, full-bodied men and women, like those about them. But it un- doubtedly would be so; and this little boy, though retaining longer the shapely limbs which would de- velop into muscular and brawny members, would 94 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. eventually become as wrinkled and flabby as the ugliest man in the village; and the careless little maiden, not many years later, almost as soon as her shape and limbs were rounded and perfected, would begin to acquire that grossness that mars maidenly beauty, and, if mar- ried at eighteen, at twenty-five or thirty she would be old, though vigorous, and resemble those middle-aged females about her. A writer thus de- scribes the Domin- ica Caribs in 1795: ‘¢They are of clear copper color, and have sleek, black hair; their persons are stout and well made, but they dis- : figure their faces by ANCIENT [ARIBS, flattening their fore- ; heads in infancy. They live chiefly by fishing in the rivers and the sea, or by fowling in the woods, in both which pursuits they use their arrows with wonderful dexterity. It is said they will kill the smallest bird with an arrow at a great distance, or transfix a fish at a considerable depth in the sea. They display also very great in- genuity in making curious-wrought panniers, or bas- kets, of silk-grass or the leaves and bark of trees.” INDIAN HOME LIFE. 95 None of the old writers mention the hospitality of the Carib, which at the present day is a virtue he possesses in perfection. I recall one of the many ex- cursions made through the environs of the hamlet into the forest in my search for birds. The day was hot, but a cool breeze from the ocean, which always blows from ten in the morning till ‘six in the evening, tem- pered the heat. Bordering the forest was a little open space, in the center of which, on a spur of the hills overlooking the sea, was a small thatched hut, inhabited by one of the few families of Caribs who have remained uncontaminated by negro blood. As I emerged from the forest I was met by a robust dam- sel with laughing eyes, who brought for me a wooden bench and placed it beneath the grateful shade of a mango. Then appeared her father, who welcomed me to his habitation, and then disappeared. A little later, when he re-appeared, he was driving before him a flock of fowls, and singling out the largest ‘and plumpest, he requested me to shoot it. Thinking I had not understood him, I hesitated, but, at a repe- tition of the request,’ fired and tumbled the fowl in the dust. There was an instant scattering of the others, but the old man picked up the slain one and marched off with it to his wife. Then he knocked down a few cocoa-nuts, and, clipping off the end of one, brought it to me, with its ivory chamber full of cool and re- freshing water, apologizing that he could offer me no rum or gin, which it is customary to mix with it. In an hour or so I was invited to the hut, where, on a clean table, was spread a substantial meal of bread-fruit and yam, with the chicken I had so re- cently shot. This last was a luxury the Indian sel- 96 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. dom treated himself to; and when I reflected to what extent my host had deprived himself, and upon the recent, the very recent, demise of the chicken, I could scarcely eat. My friends refused to sit at table with me, but attended upon my wants, bringing me fresh cocoanut-water, and mangos and guavas for dessert. To be sure, there was néither fork nor table-knife ; but one living in the woods is never without his pocket- knife, and a fork can be quickly whittled from a palm- rib. After the repast I retired to the shade of the mango; the father gathered about him his materials for making baskets, and the daughter wove for me a curious cone of basket-work, used by the children in their games, which, being slipped over the finger, cannot be removed so long as it is tightly drawn. The sun at noon is very powerful in that climate, and one quickly feels its somnolent influences. The people are up early, and work a little in the morning, but in the heat of the day little is done. No traveler passes; unless some one on a long journey; and no one works except the basket-maker, who can do so under the broad-spreading shade of a mango or tamarind. Even he, as noon draws nigh and breakfast is dis- posed of, stretches himself upon a board and dozes for an hour or two. Everything is hushed in uni- versal calm, and even the insects and birds feel the influence of the solar rays and are silent, drowsy, and indulging in mid-day siestas. Dolce far niente is the life these people lead; the sweet-do-nothing more than is absolutely necessary. Hospitality such as I have mentioned is not ex- ceptional. If an Indian takes a liking to you, hence- forward you are his compére; all he has is yours— NS INDIAN HOME LIFE. 97 and what you possess, also, is reckoned as his, if he want it. When he offers to you his house and all in it, it is no idle custom without meaning, for even his household furniture, if there be any, is at your disposal. The ancient -Caribs, if we may credit the statements of early writers, believed in some sort of a future _state, and also that their departed friends were secret witnesses of their conduct. “The brave had the enjoyment of supreme felicity with their wives and captives; the cowardly were doomed to everlasting banishment beyond the mountains. This was their next world. They dimly recognized a Divinity, a great creator of all things, and vaguely offered their homage and sacrifice.” It is supposed that each person had his tutelar deity ; it may have been a tree or a rock. The northern tribes, the Arowaks, had their zemes, or household gods, when discovered by the Spaniards. “The Caribs erected a rustic altar of banana leaves and rushes, whereon they placed the earliest of their fruits and choicest of their viands, as peace-offerings to incensed omnipotence. They could not be in- sensible to the existence of a great ruler, when the convulsions of nature were so great as they witnessed in the earthquake and hurricane.” In religion, at the present time, the Caribs of Do- minica are Roman Catholic, and are very observant of the rites of the church. Upon the occasion of the priest’s monthly visit, nearly all flock to hear him, even if they do not obey his injunctions; and the sick are brought, and the dying, to obtain the sacrament. At the close of service, one Sabbath, word was 7 & 98 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. brought the priest that Madame Jim, a middle-aged woman, was dying, with a request that he would -hasten to administer the last rites of the church. But the priest was anxious to be away; his house was a dozen miles distant, and half-way there, at the house of a friend, a dinner was awaiting him. With im- patience, then, he commanded that she be brought to the chapel; and the dying woman was placed ina hammock suspended between poles, and carried to the priest, over a mile of rough, steep road, patiently suffering, anxious only to receive extreme unction be- fore she passed away. The same Sabbath there was buried at the foot of the cross the oldest inhabitant of the nation, a very old Carib woman, whose death I lamented, as I was awaiting her recovery to secure from her a vocabulary of Carib words. My grief was only alleviated by the thought that an opportunity might occur for exhuming her skeleton, which would prove a valuable acquisi- tion to the Smithsonian Museum. Formerly, the Caribs buried their dead in a sitting posture, in order (as an old Indian told me) that they might be all ready to jump, when the Spirit came for them; and facing the sunrise, to see the light of morning. When the master of a house died, they buried him in the center of his hut, with his knees bent to his chin. They then left the hut and built another, some distance from it. Eight days after the death of Madame Jim,. the neighbors had a sort of wake, or “ praise”; until mid- night, the girls sang hymns. After twelve o’clock, all the younger people formed themselves in groups and played games until morning, while the wicked INDIAN HOME LIFE. 99 Meyong, and a few more of the ungodly —who had amused themselves by tickling the ears of the choris- ters with straws and palm-leaves, in vain attempt to upset their gravity — improved the hours so assiduous- ly in imbibing the new rum furnished by the husband of the departed, that the morning light saw them thoroughly fuddled. The whole settlement attended, old men and women and children, even to babes at the breast. The expense to the bereaved husband must have been great; and his reflection upon this fact, coupled with the equally saddening one that the wife of his bosom would never again labor for him in the garden, or relieve him of the burden of domestic duties, must have caused him to regret her departure. Eight months later, I was in the island of Saint Vincent, in latitude thirteen, north, two degrees and a half south of Dominica. Here reside (with those of the latter island) the only remaining Caribs north of South America. While those of Dominica speak a perverted French, these speak an equally corrupt English. The former are Roman Catholic in their faith; the latter, Church of England. Two weeks I lived with these Caribs, in a little wattled hut thatched with leaves, which was given up to me by a young colored man who had recently married a Carib wife. In St. Vincent, the Caribs made their last stand against the English, in the latter part of the last century, and there are more abundant evidences of ancient occupation, and the traditions are better pre- served than in Dominica. It was for the purpose of securing ,a vocabulary of their ancient language, to compare with one | had formed in Dominica, and to I0o CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. ascertain if any difference existed between the Indians of the two islands, that I visited them. In Dominica there are but twenty families of pure Caribs; in St. Vincent less than six; and but a few, of the older men and women, can speak the original language. In a few years—another generation — the Carib tongue, as spoken by these insular people, will be a thing of the past, of which there exists but an imperfect record, speaking which there will be no person living. The source of my information in Dominica was a woman, who had, I have reason to believe, purer speech than my informant in St. Vincent, who was a man. Humboldt observes, quoting Cicero: “The old forms of language are better preserved by women, because, by their position in society, they are less ex- posed to those vicissitudes of life, change of place and occupation, which tend to corrupt the primitive purity of language among men.” I found, however, a greater difference than the mere supposition of difference of sex, or the interval of a hundred and fifty miles between their respective habitations, would create. ‘I found, in fact, that this people spoke ¢wo dialects, ig confirmation of which my vocabulary, from which I can quote but briefly, will testify. For certain things they had two words entirely different. In the construction of sentences, though there would be close analogy, there was a dif- ference in the opening or closing words that was at once noticeable. In the following, for instance, where the woman expresses a wish for a fish for dinner: “WVo06-1z, hd-ma-gah, 06-do.” And the man: “ U-1-p1, hd-ma-ga, 06-do.” Almost invariably, a word com- INDIAN HOME LIFE. ToI menced by the man with a B, by the woman was begun with an JV. Ithough I could surmise the cause of this discrep- ancy, which in some instances was even more marked, I could not be satisfied to trust to my own inexperi- enced reasoning, but turned to the greatest authority upon any such subject in his day—the immortal Humboldt. Some light was thus afforded, for he had noticed the same peculiarity. “The contrast between the dialects of the sexes is so great that to explain it satisfactorily, we must refer to another cause (than difference in sex), and this may perhaps be found in the barbarous custom practiced by the Caribs, of kill- ing their male prisoners, and carrying the wives of the vanquished into captivity. When the Caribs made an irruption into the West Indies, they arrived there as a band of warriors, not as colonists accompanied by their families. The language of the female sex was formed by degrees, as the conquerors contracted alliances with the foreign women; it was composed of new elements, words distinct from the Carib words, which in the interior of the gyneczums were trans- mitted from generation to generation, but on which the structure, the combinations, the grammatical forms of the language of the men, exercised an influence.” Seeking farther, I found in an ancient volume, a French work published in 1658, conclusive evidence in place of what was with Humboldt mostly conjecture. It says: The Caribs have an original language peculiar to them alone, like any other nation, which they speak among themselves. The men have many peculiar expressions which the women understand very 102 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. well, but never utter; and the women have likewise their own words and phrases which the men never use except in ridicule. The savages of Dominica relate that when they came to live in these islands (the Lesser Antilles) they found them in possession of a nation of Arowaks, whom they entirely destroyed, except the women, whom they married. Thus, the women having preserved their own language, taught it to their children. Having been practiced until the present time, this language remains different in a great many respects from that of the men. But the boys, after they attain the age of five or six, although they well understand the speech of their mothers and sisters, follow their fathers and elder brothers in the formation of their language. In proof of what they relate, they allege that there is some resemblance between the language of the female Caribs and that of the Arowaks of the main-land (South America). The Caribs had also a certain form of speech which they used among themselves in their councils of war, —a gibberish very difficult to understand, of which neither the women nor children were permitted to have any knowledge; nor even the young men, until they had given some proof of their bravery, or of zeal in the common quarrels of their country against their enemies. Jt is owing to this fact that their designs were never prematurely disclosed, and their invasions of an enemy’s territory always so unexpected. They have in their native tongue few terms of abuse, and about the most offensive is: “you are no good,” or, “you are no livelier than a turtle.” Again, they have no equivalent word for virtue, which even at the present INDIAN HOME LIFE. I03 day is rare indeed. In counting, they cannot ex- press themselves above twenty, and then only by means of the fingers and toes. Among the Sem- inoles of Florida I found a system of numeration perfect up to one thousand. Their pronunciation is soft and agreeable, and their language abounds in those figurative expressions which make the speech of our aboriginal tribes so interesting. Like the northern Indians, they use the expression moon for month: xéo-z0, moon, and &d-¢7, month, meaning the same. My wife is “my heart”; a boy is a little man; an idiot, a person without light, or unillumined; the fingers are the little ones, or the babes, of the hands; the rainbow is God’s plume. To signify that a thing is lost, they say itis dead. Their first white visitors they styled “children of the sea,” because they came to them in ships from over the sea. Though different writers have sought to prove by comparative vocabularies affinity between the Carib and the Jew and the Tartar, it has not been con- clusively proven that this people descended from either. There is, however, whatever the origin of the language, a striking significance in their desig- nating appellation — Carib, or Cannibal, which are epithets referring to valor and strength. We have seen that they received this name from Columbus, or his associates, who had heard it as applied to them by the inhabitants of Hispaniola, the year previous to the discovery of the Caribbees. Humboldt relates that the Caribs of South America called themselves Carina, Calina, Callinago, Caribi; and that the name Carib is derived from Calina and 104 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. Carifoona. The word Carzfoona was given me, both by the St. Vincent and Dominica Caribs, as the ancient name of the tribe; so there can be no doubt of the origin of the latter term. In this connection, the author of “Myths of the New World” has propounded a curious and by no means improbable theory: “The mythical ancestor of the Caribs created his offspring by sowing the soil with stones, or with the fruit of the Mauritius palm, which sprouted forth into men and women; while the Yurucares, much of whose mythology was perhaps borrowed from the Peruvians, clothed this crude tenet in a somewhat more poetic form, fabling that at the beginning the first men were pegged, Ariel-like, in the knotty entrails of an enormous bole, until the god Tiri —a' second Prospero — released them by cleaving it in twain... .. It is still a mooted point whence Shakespeare drew the plot of ‘The Tempest.’ The coincidence mentioned in the text between some parts of it and South American mythology does not stand alone. Caliban, the savage and brutish native of the island, is undoubtedly the word Carzd, often spelled Caribana and Calibanz in older writers, and his ‘dam’s god, Setebos,’ was the supreme divinity of the Patagonians when first visited by Magellan.” As another curious fact, which inseparably links the Carib with our best fiction, as well as with our early history, let me mention that Robinson Crusoe’s “Man Friday” was a Carib; and the island of their adventures is not in the Pacific Ocean, but lies among the historic isles of the Caribbean Sea. It is, in fact, the island of Tobago, which I visited, and in which I had many and varied adventures. INDIAN HOME LIFE. I05 From the same old Carib who aided in enriching my vocabulary I obtained many quaint tales and tra- ditions, which, in another chapter, are related to show that the Caribs, though wanderers, robbers, and can- nibals, were not without their fireside stories and super- stitions. Like the African, like the North American Indian, the Carib is very superstitious; the woods, shore, rocks, and trees are peopled with sumbzes, or evil spirits, who can, if they please, work them harm ; the spirits of men and women who once lived among them, and who, they firmly believe, still inhabit this earth. Anything of odd shape or mysterious aspect is believed to be possessed of a jumbie. The owl, from its nocturnal habits and soft flight, its large, staring eyes and boding cry, is the chosen bird for the terrestrial abode of the spirits, and bears the appel- lation of “jumbie-bird” in every island. But a jumbie may appear in the shape of anything animate or in- animate, and it may happen that now and then an animal is wrongly accused of being possessed of a jumbie. To the ethnologist, the Caribs of St. Vincent pre- sent an attractive subject for study, for there is among them a people formed by the union of two distinct races, the American and the Ethiopian. They are called “ Black Caribs,” to distinguish them from the typical or “ Yellow Caribs.” Various reasons are as- signed for the cause of this mixture. One tradition is to the effect that the Caribs attacked and burned a Spanish ship, in the sixteenth century, and took its freight of slaves to live among them ; another version, that a slaver was wrecked near St. Vincent, and the Africans, escaping, joined the Caribs. The Yellow 106 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. Caribs received them as friends, but eventually the negroes possessed themselves of the best lands and drove their benefactors to the most worthless. Having intermarried with the Yellow Caribs, they departed from the negro type, in a few years, but sufficiently resembled the slaves, beginning to be introduced into the island by the French in 1720, as to cause them alarm, and they took to the woods and mountains, living there for quite another generation. They also adopted the Carib practice of flattening the foreheads of their children, so that succeeding generations dif- fered generally from their fathers. They now forma small community on the northwestern shore of St. Vincent, at a place called Morne Ronde. Throughout the island of St. Vincent I found traces of occupation by the ancient Caribs. These were in the shape of implements of war and utensils for de- mestic use, of the rudest description: hatchets, axes, battle-axes, gouges, Chisels, and spear-heads, of stone, generally classed under the head of “celts.” The negroes, ever superstitious, attribute to these stones, which they occasionally find in the fields, a celestial origin, declaring they are “thunderbolts,” and that they come down from the sky during thunderstorms. This they prove to their entire satisfaction, by citing the fact that they are always more abundant after a rain. This is evident from the fact that rain washes away the earth from these ancient stones which have lain so long buried. The Caribs did not possess that advancement in civilized art that enabled them to produce such sculp- tured works of intricate and beautiful design, both in stone and wood, as the Spaniards found among the INDIAN HOME LIFE. 107 . JHE PACRIFICIAL TONE. inhabitants of Cuba and Haiti at the time of their dis- covery. They confined their efforts to the production of axes for hollowing out their canoes, and the manu- facture of implements of war. They made pottery, but I doubt if the cotton found in their huts by Colum- bus was of their own weaving. It is more probable that it was taken from the Arowaks of the greater islands. In the forests there are yet more striking evi- dences of aboriginal occupation, which would tell us that there once existed here a people different from those of the present day, were there no written or tra- ditional chronicles of their existence. In a valley of the Caribbean side of St. Vincent is a large rock cov- 108 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. ered with incised figures, which are undoubtedly of great antiquity, and the lines or grooves are so nearly obliterated that I will not hazard a guess as to their meaning. The central figure, however, a face en- closed in a triangle, seems to resemble rude aboriginal representations of the sun. It is conjectured that this was a sacrificial stone used by the Caribs, or their predecessors, the Arowaks; and this statement would seem to be confirmed by the various.channels leading from the attendant satellites to the central figure. The rock at present lies with its face slanting to the south- west, owing to the excavation of the earth beneath it by a small stream that runs near. A few miles below is another and smaller rock, having carved upon it a face surrounded by scroll-work. In the island of Guadeloupe is a large rock having upon it a figure of more intricate design; and it is said that there are sculptured rocks in the island of St. John, one of the Virgin Islands. Owing to the rugged conformation of the islands chosen as their home, it is not possible to discover such evidences of their handiwork as in islands of more level surface. As the only remaining Indians between the con- tinent of South America and North America, be- tween Guiana and Florida, these Caribs possess an interest attaching to no other tribe living. Having visited the southernmost resident Indians in the United States, the Seminoles, offshoots from the Creeks, I was enabled to note more intelligently the differences between the two tribes; and, aside from these and other reasons; I-do not think the Caribs ever reached the continent of North America. This statement may be met with the counter one that the Seminoles, at a INDIAN HOME LIFE. 109 the time of Carib supremacy in the Lesser Antilles, were residents of the country north of Florida, and that a different tribe, the Yemassees, inhabited the peninsula. Very naturally arises the question, whence came this people? This must remain unanswered until our savanis have determined the origin of the entire race of which these Indians are but a fragmentary portion. They may trace them to Jew or Tartar, to Malay or Pheenician, for their remote origin; but to the ethnologist who believes in an original Amer- ican civilization, that there was for ages an emigra- tion from South America northward, a little light may be afforded by tracing the confines of the Carib. Considering the Esquimaux and the North Amer- ican Indians to be an “immigrant element” from Asia, we must look to the South for the origin of those other tribes more advanced than they in civilization. The Mound-builders of the Ohio and Mississippi valleys, and the Cliff-dwellers of Colorado and Arizona, may be traced to Mexico as the country from which they sprung. The Aztecs, in the height of their power when discovered by the Spaniards, pointed to South America as the land from which they had invaded Mexico. Those learned men are not few who trace a connection from these peoples to that wonderful race that built the aqueducts of Peru and the roads of the Incas; and who maintain further that Amer- ican civilization had its beginning in the elevated val- leys of Peru. These Caribs have no affinity with the people who built such wonderful cities and wrought such works of art as now lie scattered throughout the vast for- IIo CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. ests of Honduras and Central America; but that they originated in the same continent of South America, there seems to be abundant evidence to prove. We can trace them from South America northward, kill- ing and devouring as they went. In the time of Columbus the people of Porto Rico were beginning to feel alarm from their incursions; and the Spaniard may be consoled by the thought that if he had not murdered his millions, the Caribs would have event- ually depopulated these peaceful isles. We have seen that they had gained possession of all the Lesser An- tilles, Coming up from the south, and probably were the same who possessed Jamaica from the west, coast- ing the shore northward from Darien and crossing the intervening sea. According to the Spanish writers of the sixteenth century, the Carib nation then ex- tended over eighteen or nineteen degrees of latitude, from the Virgin Islands, east of Porto Rico, to the mouths of the Amazon. It seems, then, but a ques- tion of time when they would have possessed every island in the Caribbean Sea. It is not my purpose to attempt to trace ancient American civilization, but merely to describe the northern limits of a people contemporary with the more civilized Indians. Their warlike character and unyielding nature is fully shown in their resistance to the yoke of slavery the Spaniards sought to put upon them, when they perished fighting rather than yield to the oppressors. How changed are the Caribs of the present day! They have intermarried with the negroes to such an extent that their individuality is nearly lost. Their free mode of life, their long journeys by sea, their INDIAN HOME LIFE. IIt language even, are all things of the past. This rem- nant of a race, living so quietly in these islands, hemmed in between forest and ocean, peacefully cul- tivating their gardens and weaving baskets, quietly breathing away existence, are slowly but surely pass- ing on into the great gulf of forgetfulness. Already have they forgotten the deeds of their fathers, the dread prowess of their ancestors. The bow, the hatchet, the war-club, mighty weapons in willing hands, are lost. In all their settlements one cannot find a bow. Here, then, are people who have lost language, prestige, tradition, ambition; and it is a matter of comparatively little time ere they will have ceased to exist, and the forests and rivers, the cool, fern-shaded baths and tropic streams, no longer know their presence. 112 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. CHAPTER VIII. HOW I CAPTURED THE IMPERIAL PARROT. MEYONG. — MY HUT.—A MIXED-UP LANGUAGE. — DEPARTURE FOR THE FOREST.—PANNIER AND CUTLASS.—WOOD-PIGEONS.— THE STARTLED SAVAGES. — THE BATH. — A GLOOMY GORGE. — “PALMISTE MONTAGNE.’’—IN THE HAUNTS OF THE PARROT. — IMMENSE TREES. — PARASITES AND LIANES.— WOOD FOR CA- NOES AND GUM FOR INCENSE.—THE “BOIS DIABLE.” —CON- STRUCTING THE CAMP,—PALM-SPATHES.—A BONNE BOUCHE, THE BEETLE GRUB. — NOCTURNAL NOISES. COMICAL FROGS. — A BLACKSMITH IN A TREE. — THE FIRST SHOT.— THE HUMMING- BIRD’S NEST.-- THE PARROT.— AN EXCITED GUIDE.— AN ACCI- DENT. — WILD HOGS. —THE “LITTLE DEVIL.” “Tt was a land of rills And birds, and giant hills Rose westward ; eastward thundered the broad main.” ALLS of reeds and roof of flags, a small hole looking eastward for a window, a larger one fora door. Leaning against the door-post is a Carib youth of eighteen, a gun resting in the hollow of his arm, a coarse cotton shirt and trowsers his habili- ments. Upright, in a hammock swung from two cor- ners of the hut, sits a sleepy American, thrusting his fingers through his long hair; he is the only white man in that region. Reader, consider yourself intro- duced to my*Indian guide, to my hut, and to myself. Meyong, my faithful servant and henchman, was christened Simeon in the little chapel over the hill; THE HAUNTS OF THE PARROT. II3 but that was a name too long and savoring too much of English for these idle aborigines, and he was at once and forever rechristened. “Meyong !” “Out, monsteur.” You must pardon Meyong for frequent lapses into French, and for saying, “Ouc, monsieur,” instead of “Yes, sir.” The fact is, he has no language he can call his own. Though born a Carib, he never heard the Carib tongue, save from some very old woman or warriors. He was born under English rule, but never learned the English language. His parents spoke a degenerate French, but never owed allegiance to the French government. Meyong, then, speaks a patois, or dialect of his own, derived from the French, who once owned this island. His speech is abominable alike to cultivated Frenchman and Englishman. * Are you ready, Meyong?” “Out, monsieur.” “And Coryet?” Coryet is his inseparable com- panion, with whom he roves sea and forest. “Coryet come long time, m’sieur; he come ebry- ting.” “Very well; then bring me my coffee.” While he was preparing my coffee I drew on my boots and hastened to the river to bathe. Darkness still covered everything, but the low, uneasy twitter- ing of birds gave token of the near approach of dawn. Crickets and locusts and all the nocturnal insects had hushed their chirpings, and all the valley was wrapped in the silence that preceded the break of day. Each of my young hunters had a large pannier strapped to his shoulders, like a knapsack made of 8 -I14 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. basket-work, filled with the essentials for our jour- ney. In them they had stored yams, tanniers, and “farine” of cassada, two bottles of native rum, my blanket and rubber poncho. One of them also carried a very heavy iron kettle, and the other a large cala- bash. Why Coryet chose thus to burden himself with the heavy kettle was explained by Meyong, who said that the kettle was the only article of kitchen use owned by his friend, and that he wished to display it as much as possible in going through the Indian gar- dens. When we reached the, forests he would bury it and exhume it for exhibition on our return. Nearly everybody has some pet foible. Some display it in neck-ties, others in gloves; but Coryet’s took the shape of a pot of iron, black and battered. I forgot to add that each boy carried a great ma- chete, or cutlass, two feet and a half in length and two inches. broad. I had grown so accustomed to seeing them with this weapon that I almost consid- ered it a part of themselves. Meyong also carried his gun. There were but three things he cared for in this world more than rum and sleep—his cutlass, his gun, and his friend Coryet. Night and day they were together. He did, I think, entertain a high regard, approaching to love, for me, and he certainly feared the priest; but the consideration of other things never disturbed his soul. We climbed the hill, and had reached the ridge forming the semicircle that hemmed in our valley be- fore the sun appeared. He came up from the ocean with a bounce and darted at us hot beams; but we were then walking beneath tall trees, where he could THE HAUNTS OF THE PARROT. II5 not enter, and we laughed at him. The trail we were following was one thread of a net-work of secret paths known only to the Indians, that had extent all over the island, traversing the forests only, from shore to shore. Our path was crossed by other traNs, but my boys infallibly selected the right one, and we marched on swiftly. We were skirting the innermost of the Indian gar- dens, but soon left them and plunged into the woods, where the trail followed mainly the crest of a tortuous ridge. amzers, or wood-pigeons, were cooing all around us, and Coryet and I went for one. He saw it first, and tumbled it from its high perch among the leaves to the ground. After an hour on the ridge we began to descend. The hill was very steep, and I had to cling to roots and rocks in going down. Soon we passed through a garden owned by Indian Jim, whose wife we saw “toted” in a hammock, the week before, dying, to the village to receive extreme unction from the priest on his visit. Poor woman! her last task is finished on this earth, and never again will she look upon this solitary spot so often the scene of her daily toil. It was a dell most secluded and wild, and ground, rocks, and trees were covered with ferns. As we waded along knee-deep in ferns, a couple of perdrix, or mountain doves, got up; one alighted in the loop of a swinging liane some forty yards away, and I dropped him into the ferns, stone-dead. Me- yong saw an agouti, but too quickly he penetrated the forest of ferns for us to catch him. Suddenly I heard the music of falling water —the most liquid melody in the world—and opportunely, too, for we were 116 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. tired and thirsty. Rapidly we descended, as fast as loosened rocks and earth furrowed by the rains ‘would allow us, to a shady valley, where a foaming brook came down to join the large river that entered the sea two miles below. But another sound greeted our ears, other than that of water laughing over mossy stones; it was the rumbling of loosened rocks and rolling of stones caused by the hand of man. We stopped to listen, and then Meyong went on ahead. He beckoned aid I followed, to see, as I peered over the bank, a naked Indian running about in and out of the brook; a magnificent man, with brawny shoul- ders and long black hair. Just ahead of him was a woman, his squaw, clad in a ragged skirt. Both were intently searching beneath the stones for some object, the man overturning large rocks in his way. What was this thing they seemed so eager to find? It was not gold, for they do not know it in its virgin state. It was something more valuable to them, for present needs, a shell-fish for their breakfast and supper. The crayfish, the fresh-water lobster, makes its home beneath the rocks of the mountain streams. Being so excellent, it is much sought by these people, who have no guns, no bows nor arrows, and few dogs with which to hunt. It is their chief reliance when the seas are heavy and they cannot go out in their canoes to fish. Pressing too near the bank, I dislodged a pebble which fell with a splash into the stream. Hardly had it touched the water, when, with a wild cry of alarm, the startled Indians darted into the forest; we could hear them as they ran in their fear, for some minutes. At the river we stopped to lunch and drink its pure THE HAUNTS OF THE PARROT. I17 water. Crossing the stream we entered an abandoned provision ground, where we disturbed two girls and a boy gathering yams and tanniers. They shrieked and fled, without staying to answer our don jour. We then marched up the gravelly bed of a brook near the river bank, our path overhung by wild oranges and JHE FIUNTER’S PATH. coffee trees, until we came abruptly upon a perpen- dicular wall of rock directly across our path. It was black and frowning, dotted with lovely ferns and long drooping leaves of the wild plantain. Swerving aside, we found that we must cross the river, and that the channel was too deep to wade, and we must swim it. 118 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. There are two things forbidden by the laws of health in the tropics: eating fruit when the body is hot, and bathing when in the same condition. But Meyong said it would not hurt us if we would remove our clothes and sit in the sun a while to dry the per- spiration ; which we did, and then plunged in. It was icy cold, and the current was so swift we could hardly stem it, for the river flowed between huge walls of rock —a narrow gorge. Into the deep black chasm we at last ventured, where the sun could not reach us, and essayed a peep into the cavernous depths beneath the cliffs. Suspended from a swinging rope, a liane, we hung upon the surface of as black and dismal a pool as I ever saw. The water fell from a preat height into the farthest recesses of the chasm and created a sort of whirlpool where we dared not ven- ture, and then it flowed out through a narrow open- ing into the daylight and sunlight, falling over a broad ledge one sheet of foam. The lianes gave a strange effect, hanging from the heights to the water like loosened ropes; but the most beautiful and strangely-attractive forms were those of the tree-ferns, which sprang out-of the crevices: in the rocks, and spread their broad, lace-like leaves above us. Refreshed by the bath, and by the contemplation of this grand work of nature, we dressed and prepared to scale the cliffs on the other side. A little stream fell musically over the rock, where it had worn a channel for itself in the solid stone, and up this brook- let, assisted by tree-ferns and lianes, we climbed and climbed. It was now mid-day and the sun gave us a warm reminder of his strength, so that we gladly THE HAUNTS OF THE PARROT. IIQ hailed the first sight of a mountain palm. As it is never found at less than two thousand feet above the sea, its presence assured us of cool breezes; and not only of cool breezes but of possible approach to the region of the parrots. The great Imperial Parrot, the “Cicero” of the Indians, the Chrysotis augusta of ornithologists, delights to feed upon the seeds of this tree. We did not, however, hear any cry or noise betokening their presence, for at noon in the tropics all animal life is silent. We went up and on for several hours into a region of palms and “ gommier trees,” and at. last halted be- neath towering trees, on a carpet of green, where we threw ourselves upon the ground. My boys were soon refreshed and sprang up again to seek water, far down the hill. While they were gone I lay upon my back, study- ing the forms of the various trees above me. They formed a perfect canopy of green which the sun could not pierce. Exceeding all others in height, as well as in usefulness, is the tree known to the natives as the “ gommier,” or gum-tree (Bursera gummifera). Some of the trunks are eight feet in diameter, throw out huge buttresses on all sides, like the wall-supports of a Gothic church, and rise into the air one hundred feet. The seeds of this tree are favorite food of the parrots and wood-pigeons. Its branches and trunk are completely hidden in a wealth of parasitic growth and lianes. This is the tree used by the Caribs, even at the present day, for their canoes. From a single trunk they hollow out, by means of fire and axe, a canoe in the rough. This is most I20 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. often done far in the mountains, and the hollowed log must be dragged, with great labor, to the shore. There it is placed in the shade and filled with water, to open it; a strip is nailed along the top for a gun- wale, knees put in to strengthen it; it is finished smoothly with the axe, and then makes a strong, buoyant boat, which floats lightly on the water, and rides gracefully heavy seas. In such a boat the an- cient Caribs made war excursions of more than three hundred miles. From the bark of this valuable tree exudes a gum that burns freely and with such grateful odor that it is used in the Romish churches as incense. This gum is wrapped in bark in an ingenious manner by the Indians, and made into torches, or flambeaux, three feet long, which are used by hunters and fisher- men at night. Hence the tree is also known as the “ flambeau tree.” Another very useful tree is the “}do0zs de bonté,” the young saplings of which are used in making the ajoupa, or hut. It is tall, of lesser height than the gommier, with fine ovate leaves. Upon the seeds of this tree, also, the parrots feed, and its abundance here induced my boys to select this site for our forest camp. But the most interesting thing about it is the property of the bark, which, when steeped in tea or in rum, has a warming effect upon the human system, and has probably some medicinal qualities. Winding among the branches of this tree are those of another called “Bods dtable,” or devil’s wood; it is much used in making charcoal and flambeaux. They returned from the spring after a long absence, with the calabash and a section of bamboo full of water. Meyong started a fire with a flake of gom- THE HAUNTS OF THE PARROT. 121. mier gum, and then departed for covering for the house, which he and his companion were now to erect. It was very near dark, and I did not think they could put a roof over our heads before sunset ; but when I mentioned this doubt they smiled and told me to rest quietly. Coryet then cut about a dozen saplings and drew them up to the fire. Across two crotched uprights, some eight feet high, he placed a pole about twelve feet in length for the ridge-pole of the house. From _ this front pole he extend- ed three other stout limbs to the ground, and across theseagain at right angles he lashed ten others about a foot and a half apart. Thus he had the frame-work of a roof in less than half an hour, and every pole was lashed securely without a single rope, and fastened firmly without a nail. It was interesting to watch him at this work. When he had placed the poles in position he left them and went to a tree near at hand, and drew down from its branches, sixty feet from the ground, several hundred feet of lialines and lianes, the latter large as grape- vines, the former small as fish-lines, and so lithe and tough that a hard knot could be tied in one without I22 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. its breaking. With these he fastened the framework together. By this time Meyong had returned with a back- load of strips of thin white bark. They were about six feet in length, and looked like great flakes of slippery- -elm bark. Upon examination I found that they were the sheaths or layers from around the terminal bud of the mountain palm. This bud, whic is much sought as a delicacy, and cooked like “cabbage, forms the apex of the stem of the palm; and this rare vegetable, forming only enough for a meal for a small party, is only obtained by cutting down one of the stateliest trees in the world. It was from a fallen palm that Meyong had stripped these layers, which he now threw upon the ground. With his cutlass he shaved away the middle of each, thus making the central portion so thin that it could be spread out flat. Each piece was then about four feet broad and six to seven long; and two breadths of four pieces each completely covered the skeleton shape of the roof and made a water-tight covering. The lower course was laid first, with the upper overlapping it, like two rows of shingles. Across each course was laid a pole, fastened at either end to the poles projecting on each side underneath. In less than an hour we had a good roof over us, im- pervious to water. A few palm leaves were fastened at the sides, and a huge back-load of small and springy leaves thrown on the ground for a bed. Over these I threw my poncho of rubber silk and a warm gray blanket to protect me from the night air. Thus we had house, and food at hand, all obtained from THE HAUNTS OF THE PARROT. 123 material on the spot, with no foreign aid save a single © cutlass. I say food, but forgot to specify what it was and how obtained. Meyong had brought us a luscious morsel from that same palm, in the shape of a great, fat grub, large as my finger, which he proposed to fry at supper time. With characteristic generosity, he offered me the whole of it, but I declined, and he and his friend smacked their lips in anticipation. This grub was from an egg laid in the decaying heart of the palm by a black beetle, which always chooses such a place of deposit for. its eggs. The ramiers were plucked and dressed, and some potatoes and yams boiled. The former made a fine stew for sup- per, after which, as we were all very tired, we sought our couch of palm leaves. I threw a large piece of gum upon the fire before retiring, and sat a while watching the curling smoke and inhaling the sweet incense. There was a moon, a bright moon shining in the heavens, but I could not see it through the trees; it only turned the darkness of night beneath the foliage into dusky gloom, and twinkled through the leaves a single diamond ray. The voices of the night are many, but principally issue from frogs and nocturnal cicade. The most conspicuous is the “crak-crak,” which continually repeats the two syllables forming its name, from sun- set to sunrise. There are several frogs also that give utterance to the most comical sounds; but the one that made me laugh was a small frog, like a rain- frog, and what he repeated all night long was this: “Rig a jig jig, rig a jig jig, amen!” 124 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. Soon, the many voices blended into one, and I was asleep. Wrapped in my blanket, my gun by my side, and my two Indians stretched in slumber near me, I slept long and soundly, nor stirred till near morning. It may have been an hour before daylight, as I lay in that half conscious state that sometimes precedes awaking, I heard distinctly the ringing of steel upon steel, echo through the forest. Listening dreamily, I heard it again — ching, clang! Instantly I was transported to another clime, and the forest and its tropical wonders faded away. I was in a little New England town, in the shop of the village blacksmith, with the old mare I used to drive waiting for a shoe. It was a hot, sultry day in July, the hay-makers were sweltering in the sun, and the leaves on the trees stood still. Cling, clang, cling! I saw the old blacksmith smiting the shoe as he fashioned it, and heard the metallic ring as the hammer fell with a half-blow upon the anvil. Cg! —“ Monsieur!” “ What — what’s the matter?” “ Monsieur,” — it was Coryet who spoke —“ you no hear ze blacksmit?” “The blacksmith! ah, yes; but where is he?” “Oh, m’sieur, he no on ze ¢erre, he ex haut in ze tree.” “In the tree! A blacksmith in a tree?” * Oui, m’sieur, mazs he no blacksmit veritable, he inseck; he make ze noise wiz hees weeng.” Now I saw it clearly, it was one of those cicade, or a cricket, which produces such a noise by rubbing together the heel-plates of its wings. Thus was my pleasant dream dissipated. It was now about sunrise, though it would be long before the sun could pene- THE HAUNTS OF THE PARROT. 125 trate our leafy grove. Meyong made but little fire, just enough for the preparation of our coffee, for the wary parrots would detect our whereabouts, and de- part farther up the mountain. We heard the faint cry of one, answered by another, far down the moun- tain-side, and this stimulated us to extra haste in departing. Coryet and Meyong were to descend by a ravine to a valley, while I was to follow along the ridge a mile or so, and take my stand beneath a tall tree which was accurately described. I preferred going alone, as I ever do when hunting, not only from the fact that less noise would attend me, but that then I could indulge to the full that communion with nature which the pres- ence of a companion always interrupts, or rudely breaks. It was still gloomy in the forest; a shower had fallen during the night, and leaves, vines, and ferns were heavy with moisture. Noiselessly I pursued my way, indulging in that sweet reverie which solitude in a great forest always excites. Suddenly there broke upon the stillness the faint report of a gun. This at once stirred the blood in my veins, as my boys had promised not to shoot at any other bird than the im- perial parrot, and I hoped that this announced the capture of one. Impatiently resting beneath the huge tree, and concealing myself in a bower of orchids and hanging ferns, I waited for something to appear. Soon the harsh screams of parrots broke upon my ear, and a flock of ten or twelve swept through the woods like a whirlwind, just beyond range. They were the small green parrot, another species, but equally desirable with the larger. Then all was still 126 . CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. again, the deep silence broken only by the call of the wood-pigeon. Turning my attention more closely to the vines that enclosed me, to be satisfied that there were no poison- ous centipedes or scorpions lurking there, I unex- pectedly beheld a vision of loveliness seldom vouch- safed to dwellers of the icy North. Close at hand, within two feet of me, sat a tiny humming-bird on a downy nest, which was fastened upon atwig no larger than a pencil. During all my stay it had sat there, gazing upon the first object of human kind, probably, it had ever beheld. Fearlessly it glanced at me with its bright, black eyes, and curiously it followed my every motion with its shapely little head. Involun~ tarily I stretched forth my hand to touch it, but at once drew back for fear it might take alarm and fly away. A buzzing of wings attracted my attention, and I beheld the mate of the one on the nest, who darted at me with unmistakable fury, his glittering crest erected and anger shooting from his eyes. Verily ! had this pigmy’s body been in proportion to his heart, I should have been destroyed. Satisfied that he could not drive me away by darting at my eyes, he rested himself a moment upon a twig near the nest, where he was at once joined by the female, who seemed to endeavor by caresses to soothe his ruffed temper and to assure him that my intentions toward them were not evil. ‘Touched to the heart by this exhibition of trust and love, I would not have harmed these little innocents for a fortune. Exposed for a moment, as the female left the nest, were two eggs, white as snow, diminutive as seed-pearls. For several hours I watched without even a sound THE HAUNTS OF THE PARROT. 127 to reward me, and during my stay those humming- birds watched with me, the male darting off upon frequent forays for insects and honey, the female snuggled cosily in her dainty nest. The little hus- band now looked upon me as an intruder, to be tol- erated only upon sufferance, and at my slightest motion he would dive at my face; at which exhibi- tion of bravery the little wife would twitter with de- light and swell with pride. Finally I retraced my steps, as it was near noon. I had nearly reached camp when I saw a puff of smoke and heard a loud report, and directly Coryet, who had espied me, ran forward with animated ges- tures. Interpreting their meaning, and obeying his directions, which he jabbered in broken French, I directed my attention to an immense gommier tree a few hundred feet away. At first I saw nothing, but approaching I gradually resolved the mass of foliage into its component leaves and twigs, vines and air plants, and caught sight of a glowing body clothed in purple and golden-green. : In the cloud of smoke from my gun it disappeared, but only to gleam again athwart the leafy space ere it fell with heavy thud to the ground. To recover it was the work of an instant with the excited Indian, whose enthusiasm almost equalled mine as he placed in my hands this largest of all the parrots of the Indies. Their first shot in the morning had been in- effectual, but the second had wounded the mate to this; and it was its loud cries that caused my bird to remain so long in a place fraught with so much danger. At last I had secured this valuable bird! And I 128 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. had the satisfaction, several months later, of learning that mine were the first ever sent to America. Dges it not seem strange that though Columbus, in 1493, when he approached this island of Dominica, es- pecially noticed the “flights of parrots and other tropical birds,” nearly four hundred years should elapse before one of these parrots should reach the continent he was the means of discovering? This bird is peculiar to the island and is found nowhere else. Its cry is harsh, somewhat resembling the cry of the wild turkey. It does not, like the small parrots, associate in flocks, but is always found in pairs; once mated, they are sundered only by death. Morning and evening, when feeding, they cry out noisily, but at other times are silent; though if a gun be fired within their hearing, or a tree fall, they will all scream loudly and harshly once or twice, and then subside into perfect silence. They are shy and wild, since in the autumn months they are much hunted, being then fat and delicious. In size, they are nearly as large as a fowl, being twenty-three inches long and thirty-six in extent of wings. In color, they are bright green above and purple beneath, with metallic reflec- tions. Rarely does it descend to the valleys, as its favorite food is in the mountains. Its nest is made in the broken shaft of a palm, very high from the ground. The young, if obtained early, will readily learn to talk. While the two Indians were away looking for more parrots, an accident happened to one of my birds which greatly excited my ire. I had skinned both birds and plentifully besprinkled them with arsenic, and had left them on a log near the ajoupa, THE HAUNTS OF THE PARROT. 129 while I went in search of some dry moss with which to stuff them. Returning, when some distance away I heard a low grunt, and looking up saw a large hog, black as night and gaunt as a wolf, snuffing at the log. JI darted forward with a cry, but not before the sable fiend had seized one of the birds by the head and started torun. Thinking only of my specimen, I pressed him so closely that he turned at bay, show- ing fangs long as my fingers. Then he started again, ‘as I hesitated a moment, and ran more swiftly than before. In running, he stepped upon the trailing wing of the bird and wrenched the head from the body, but kept on, crunching the bones between his powerful jaws, and disappeared in a clump of bam- boos. As I had neither gun nor knife, I was power- less to avert this catastrophe, but was obliged to bottle my wrath until Meyong’s return. He then in- formed me that there were hundreds of wild hogs in * the woods, but that we would require dogs to hunt them with. ‘ It was at once decided that Coryet should return to the coast on the morrow with my birds, procure more provisions, and two hunting-dogs belonging to old Joseph, a chief. Upon his return we would move higher up the mountains, and seek reparation for my bird from the droves of wild hogs there roam- ing the forests. At the same time it was possible I might add to my captures that inhabitant of the upper volcano, the Diablotin, or “ Little Devil,” which had not been seen for thirty years. 2 130 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. CHAPTER IX. A DAY IN THE DEEP WOODS. THE BEE-TREE.— ENVELOPED IN PLANTS. — ASCENDING THE GIANT TREE. — SMOKING OUT THE BEES. — VEGETABLE ROPES. —HONEY AD LIBITUM. —A BITE.— A HOWL.—THE BEE- EATERS. — CARIB PERVERSITY. — SWEET CONTENT. — HOW TO DRAW A BEE-LINE. — THE PALM TROUGHS.— A BAMBOO CUP. —A STROLL AND AN ALARM.— THE CARIB GHOST.—TRA- DITIONS. —THE MARCH RESUMED.— AN ARMY OF CRABS.— CRABS THAT MIGRATE.— DELICIOUS FOOD. —~ THE MOUNTAIN PEAK. — HUNTING THE “DIABLOTIN.” —IS IT A MYTH ?— CAUGHT IN A STORM. — THE CARIB CASTLE. — THE CAPTIVE’S CAVE. — VAMPIRES, — THE FOREST SPIRIT. ARLY the next morning, Coryet departed for the coast, taking with him nothing but his cutlass, his pannier, and a cooked tannier to eat on the way. He left us barely enough provisions for a day, but Meyong reckoned upon finding some wild yams, and shooting birds and agoutis. He wenta little way with his beloved friend, and then returned to the ajoupa. After the customary coffee had been prepared and brought me, he returned to the fire and proceeded to collect together four or five brands some two feet in length, with blazing ends, and bind them firmly into a flambeau, with tough lianes. Knowing it was un- necessary to question him when he had unrestrained power to do as he pleased in the forest, I watched him as he fastened on his wicker pannier, and lined it with A DAY IN THE DEEP WOODS. I31 broad leaves. This once strapped to his shoulders, he took up the calabash, the cutlass and blazing brands, and bade me follow him. I did so, carrying, of course, my gun (my never-absent friend), and swinging on my game-basket, with a supply of cartridges. He then led the way down the hill, and stopped almost in sight of the smoke of our fire in camp. It was beneath a tree of vast size, which shot up from a wilderness of fallen trunks and limbs, a gommier, towering aloft in kingly majesty, enveloped in lianes which hung from every bough and limb, thickly covered with broad-leaved parasites, orchids and wild pines, its base throwing out strong buttresses like the cypress of the South, but higher and broader, its upper limbs jagged and weather-beaten, stretching their multitudinous fingers heavenward two hundred feet above us. It was beginning to decay, and this forest monarch of centuries, perhaps, was almost ready to totter on his throne. Meyong pointed to a dark spot as large as my hand, some sixty feet above, and said, “ You no see um?” “See what?” “Ze bees!” Then I fully understood the meaning of his prep- arations, which I had till then hardly surmised. This was a bee-tree, the home of a swarm, one of the numberless progeny of some bees from Europe, which went wild a hundred years ago. _Laying his gun at the foot of the tree, and lopping off a few leaves from a parasite overhead, to protect it from the damp, Meyong seized hold of a large liane, cut it from its attachment at the base, and climbed up into the tree. Remember, there were no limbs for I32 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. eighty feet. About twenty feet up he rested a moment, and requested me to attach the bundle of smoking fagots to.a liane; he then drew it up to him and stuck it into a crevice. Then he went up again, —he didn’t “shin,” by clinging with his arms and legs; the tree was too broad, and the mass of vines and plants too enormous for that, but he just seized a liane, like a rope, between his toes, the great toe and the one next it, and walked up, hand over hand, and toe over toe. The pannier fastened to his shoulders, and the cutlass dangling behind from his belt, gave him the appear- ance of a hump-backed monkey, as he ascended rapidly, half enveloped in smoke. Great parasites, with leaves like cabbage leaves, and orchids large as peonies, came crashing down, sprinkling me with water from their inverted calyxes, as he went on steadily climbing. At last he reached a point ‘just beneath the hole, at a height equal to the mast-head of a brig, and then, holding on with one hand, he drew up the firebrands and thrust their unlighted ends into a crevice a little below the hole. He signaled me to attach the calabash to a lialine no larger than a fish-line, which I did, and awaited further orders. Detaching. brand from the bundle, he thrust it into the hole previous to put- ting in his hand. He was almost hidden by a cloud of angry bees, who, stupefied by the smoke, did not seem to recognize in him an enemy, and hundreds alighted upon his shirt and pantaloons, and many on his bare legs. The hole was too small, and Meyong enlarged it with his cutlass; previously, however, he had formed a staging upon which to stand, about A DAY IN THE DEEP WOODS. e. 123 four feet beneath the aperture, by thrusting a stout pole through the lianes, and lashing it with a lialine. The fagots, to which he had secured a piece of punky wood, were smoking bravely, and he now signaled me to send up the calabash. First, however, he filled his leaf-lined pannier, or basket-knapsack, with great flakes of wax, throwing away the first crust, which was brown and dry, and very soon had it full to the top with honey-laden wax. Detaching it, he lowered it down by one of the living ropes which surrounded him, and drew up and filled the calabash. I laid the wax dripping with honey upon some long and broad leaves of the wild plantain, three feet long by one foot broad. At every successive descent of the vessel it contained more and more liquid, and at last came down with but little wax, nothing but golden and fragrant syrup. What should I do? There was no bowl or pan to put it in. Meyong saw my perplexity, and shouted down for . me to collect some of the boat-shaped spathes of the mountain palm, the sheaths that protect and overhang the seeds and flowers. A palm lay prostrate near me; twogf its spathes, exactly like the half of a pea- pod in shape, five feet long and two feet wide, were quickly drawn to the tree. They were clean and freshly washed by the dews of the morning, and into one of these I poured the honey fast as ,it came to me from the tree above. An exclamation caused me to look up, and I saw my friend in agony, grimaces passing swiftly over his face, as he endeavored vainly to dislodge an intruding bee, whose success in finding a vulnerable place on 134 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. Meyong’s skin was proclaimed by that worthy ina howl of dismay. Meyong was a good boy and generally very trac- table, but he would never listen to my advice and wear his shirt inside his pantaloons. He said it was the Jashion to wear it outside, and used an expression equivalent to that in so common use among the ladies : “To be out of fashion is to be out of the world.” I argued with him and entreated him, but in this he would have his own way; and I really believe that if every man in the Carib nation were bitten by a bee every day in his mortal life, he would still persist in dis- playing a flag of distress above his nether coverings. And thus he went on, with alternate howls and exclamations of sweeter character, such as szzel douce, (honey sweet,) until the great palm troughs were full enough and IJ concluded it would be well to desist. Early in the proceedings he had whistled shrilly several times, and when I asked the reason, he said it was to call the mal jfinz. “Mal fini” was the name given to the hawk, from its cry; but this applied to a small bird of the fly-catcher family, which would come and eat the bees and thus diminish the number of Meyong’s assailants. The bird came, a small, shy, gray bird, which approached cautiously, evidently astonished to see a human being up in a tree sur- rounded with smoke, and another at the foot of the tree. But he did not stop to speculate, but worked assiduously, and soon he was joined by others; though their united efforts failed to lessen perceptibly the angry swarm. Supplied with all the honey I cared for, I sat con- tentedly upon a fallen log, with my feet thrust down A DAY IN THE DEEP WOODS. 135 among tangled twigs, exposed to the gaze of ants, centipedes, scorpions and what not, and calmly munched the waxen cells, expressing from those hex- agonal receptacles their delicious burden of honey, by a process the most primitive, but also the most satis- factory, known to man. As I sat there a picture of sweet endeavor, Me- yong prepared to descend, and brought with him as he swung down, hand under hand, a cloud of bees, who, attracted by the cargo of honey in the spathes and by my sweet countenance, left the boy and traveled in my direction. Entangled as I was in the meshwork of branches, I furnished a scene for the hardened Me- yong, who, still smarting from recent stings, was a most joyful witness of my discomfiture. Though never an apt scholar in mathematics, I learned a lesson from the bees that day, and described, as accurately as the nature of the ground would allow, a bee-line for camp. I think the most stupid student in school would be able to understand that a straight line was the “shortest distance between two points,” with a swarm of angry bees after him thirsting for his blood; especially, when at one of those points was safety, and at the other bees. In the afternoon I went out hunting and was success- ful, bringing back several pigeons. Meyong mean- while had not been idle, for he had, ready-cooked, the cabbage of a mountain palm, and two hideous grubs nicely browning over the coals. Now we had veg- etables, meat and honey, but there was no utensil for dipping out the latter from the troughs. “Come wiz me,” said Meyong. I went with him a few rods to a clump of bamboos 136 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. —the same in which the hog had disappeared the day before. Selecting a long reed an inch and a half in diameter, he cut it off with his cutlass. The joints in this reed were about four inches apart, and it was a hollow tube partitioned at the joints; upon the outside of each grew a lateral branch. Trimming off the small shoot and cutting the larger part off about three inches each side of it, he had then a double- ended cup with a firm handle, divided in the middle. Upon our return to the village, Meyong covered this cup very neatly with basket-work; and I have it now before me as I write. Towards night, I took my gun and wandered a little way from camp to try to shoot some of the immense vampire bats that haunted the forest. My attention being taken up with the many objects about me, I wandered farther than J had intended, and darkness fell about me ata distance from the camp. If the days are glorious, the tropic nights are grand; im- pressive in the deep brooding silence, until the insects of the night break the stillness, or the hoot of the owl, or the shriek of the diablotin, disturbs it. I had been seated a little while and it had grown quite dark, and I was about returning, when, as I moved, a stick crackled sharply, thrilling me through with a strange feeling of fear. It was nothing but a dry twig upon which I myself had stepped, yet an unaccountable dread of moving possessed me at that moment, as though I felt the presence of another person near, whom I could not see. As I walked, I peered all about me, but could see nothing. Yet, during all that short walk I felt asif in the presence of a powerful man about to lay his hand on my shoulder. A DAY IN THE DEEP WOODS. 137 This feeling I could not shake off; but I reached camp without harm, though my face must have betrayed me, for Meyong noticed my agitation and remarked: “Ah, you meet jumbie, eh?” Jombie, or jumbie, is the name by which are known the evil spirits who walk the earth. “No,” I replied, “I have seen nothing.” I did not care to show to Meyong any such foolish fear as had just before possessed me. “You no see him, but he see you; something make you ’fraid.” This I could not deny; and then Me- yong launched into the story of the ghost that haunted this mountain, which he fully believed. Stretched upon my bed of palm-leaves, I listened as he talked. “If ‘crak-crak’ bawl one kind way, some person go to dead. Me sinks me hear zat to-day. Long agone, in old Carib'time, one berry cruel man say he must to be bury like he sit down, he must to be put in he grave just like he sit on bench. Well, zey make him so, and not long all ze person get walloping; zey know not who make it, but if a man only so speak of ze man buried and say,‘ Ah, poor fellah,’ he shu to get him skin well wallop. It make ze person most fright to dead, and if zey but go near he hut where him bury in ze night, zey must to see him jumbie and get blow on ze head. Soon again, he jumbie take to go in ze canoe all about ze coast; when zey go fishin’ he always to be dah: he whistle, he sing, an’ ze canoe men use to him an’ not mine him. One day ze canoe swamp an’ ze jumbie make to drown, but ze Carib men he no drown; zey see him no mo’. _ Person say he come up to ze mountain, zat I sinks myself. After zat, no mo’ Carib bury like him sitting down.” 138 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. By the time this was finished I was asleep and knew no more till morning. Instead of waiting for Coryet on the third day, Meyong proposed that we should make an easy march up the mountain-side, leaving a sign for his friend to follow when he should reach the camp. Our route lay through a region similar to the one we left, only constantly becoming more and more elevated and consequently rugged. It was during this march that we met one of the most curious processions ever seen in this land of wonders. Climbing the steep hill-side, and clinging by one hand as I climbed, giving all my attention to my work, I suddenly became conscious that I was surrounded by moving objects, whom I could hear as they rustled over leaves and rocks. I rubbed my eyes and looked around. Meyong was behind, but saw them at the same time I did, and eagerly shouted, “Gardez! Zecrabs!” It was true, there was an army of crabs, and we were in the midst of it. It behooved us to get out of the way at once, for these crabs (as large as a good-sized crab of the sea-shore) have a disagreeable way of climbing up and over everything in their course, and of using their power- ful claws upon the slightest provocation. Well, we got behind a large tree, and my guide made side forays upon them as they went by (for they are most delicious eating), until we had collected as many as he could carry. And how, think you, did he secure them? Why, he just tied their claws together with a lialine, a small cord-like root, and then placed them in a heap at his feet: Fortunate for us that this was a small army, otherwise I don’t know how soon we could A DAY IN THE: DEEP WOODS. 139 have pursued our way, for they sometimes travel by thousands. A very old French writer gives the only ( as aco S =. account : that we - can find of these A crabs; and were it not * that I had seen them on the march, there are some things he says the truth of which J should be inclined to doubt. live not ° only in a kind of orderly and — quiet society in their retreats in the mountains, but regularly once a year march down to the seaside in a body, some millions at atime. They choose the months of April and May to begin their expeditions, and then sally out from the PN ARMY OF prRass.° I40 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. stumps of hollow trees, clefts of rocks, and from holes which they dig for themselves in the earth. The sea is their destination, and here they cast their spawn. For this purpose, no sooner has the crab reached the shore than it eagerly goes to the edge of the water and lets the waves wash over its body to wash off the spawn. The eggs are hatched under the sand, and soon after, millions of the new-born crabs are seen quitting the shore, and slowly traveling up the mountains. In going down, they turn neither to right nor left; even if they meet a house, they will attempt to scale it. The procession sets forward with the precision of an army. It is commonly divided into battalions, with the strongest in front. The night is their chief time of traveling, but if it rains by day, they improve that occasion. When the sun shines, they make a universal halt till evening. In the season of moulting, they retire to their burrows to cast their shells, filling them with grass and leaves. My native boy’s account of their habits agreed sub- stantially with this, and he added, moreover, that if there was any one thing better than another, it was the flesh of these same crabs; a statement I can cheerfully verify, as that night we feasted on crab on the half shell; crabs’ claws, crab fricasseed and crab roasted. As the camp we had left was at a good height above the sea-coast, we were now in the upper regions of the mountains. The vegetation had already changed to a great extent and had more of an Alpine character. As we walked along we could now and then catch glimpses of the sea at a distance, and obtain a view of the nearer sea of trees, spread over the fair valleys below us. In the afternoon we were painfully scaling A DAY IN THE DEEP WOODS. 14! the precipitous sides of one of the two peaks which form the double summit of Morne Diablotin. We were now in the region especially appropriated as his home by the Dzadloten, or “ Little Devil; ” and anxiously we searched, as we scrambled over the loose rock, for some trage of the hole in which he lived. Wherever I had been in the island I had heard of the diablotin, and my curiosity was excited to such a degree that I determined to clear away the mystery which surrounded it. For thirty years it had remained unseen. Many treated as a myth this story of a bird living in the mountains (for it is a bird) so long a period without appearing to human vision. But suffi- cient proof existed, in my opinion, to warrant a search for it. The older people of the island had distinct re- membrances of seeing it, and attributed its disappear- ance to the depredations of the “manacou,” a marsu- pial animal like an opossum, which hunted it from its holes and devoured it and its eggs. No two persons agreed as to its color, shape, or size; but I had seen in an old French work, written by a Catholic mission- ary to these islands some two centuries ago, — the Pére Labat—a good description of the bird. This description, doubtless translated bodily, I also found in an old history of Dominica, published in 1791. It says: “The dzadlotin, so called by the French from its uncommonly ugly appearance, is nearly the size of a duck, and is web-footed. It has a big, round head, crooked bill like a hawk, and large, full eyes like an owl. Its head, part of the neck, chief feath- ers of the wings and tail, are black; the other parts of its body are covered with a fine, milk-white down. They feed on fish, flying in great flocks to the sea- 142 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. side in the night-time, and in their flight make a disagreeable noise like owls, which bird they also resemble in their dislike of the day, when they are hid in holes in the mountains, where they are easily caught. This is done by stopping up some of the holes which lead to their hiding-places and placing empty bags over the rest, which communicate under- ground with those stopped. The birds, at their usual time of going forth to seek their food in the night- time, finding their passage impeded, make to the holes covered with the bags, into which entering, great numbers of them are caught.” Though hardly accepting the statement by the moun- taineers that a bird so far-flying could be exterminated by a merely local disturber, I was obliged to admit that it no longer inhabited its old homes. For two hours we prolonged the search, cold and wet, but found nothing to reward us. We saw, to be sure, many cracks and crannies in the rocks where a dia- blotin might have hidden, but no long holes, such as those made by the “Mother Cary’s chickens” in the Bay of Fundy. ‘There, five years previously, I had drawn many a petrel from the end of a long, winding hole, as it sat quietly upon its single egg; but this other petrel (for it is a giant petrel, probably the Przon Caribbea) was not to be found, and I departed sor- rowfully down the mountain, to look for shelter. We were at such an altitude that mist and rain con- stantly surrounded us. The fierce wind, that always blows from the eastward, nearly swept us over the narrow crest. Thunder boomed beneath and around us, and rain fell in torrents at times, and the view I had hoped to obtain of the fairest group of islands in A DAY IN THE DEEP WOODS. 143 the Southern Sea was hidden by a veil of mist and fog. It was nearly dark, though perhaps not very late; but the cloud of mist aided approaching night, and I was apprehensive that exposure would result to our injury, especially as there was no roof to cover us and no material for making a fire. My implicit faith in the resources of my guide was not unrewarded, for we had descended but a short distance when he cried out, pointing to an immense rock as large as a church, just in sight farther down, “ You no see ajoupa?” It was, as I said, a huge rock, so delicately poised upon a spur from the main ridge that it seemed ready to fall. We seemed surrounded by an almost intermi- nable forest beneath, while above towered the twin mountain-peaks, bare and gray. As those near peaks were more than five thousand feet above the sea, we were now in a region cold and bleak, forty-eight hun- dred feet above the coast. Meyong had called this rock an ajoupa, and there must be, I knew, some reason for it, as he was one of those matter-of-fact persons who call a spade a spade. Just as we reached an angle of the rock he turned abruptly from the trail and dived beneath another rock into a hole about breast-high. Following him, I found myself in a spacious cavern hollowed out of the rock, with an entrance on the mountain-side just large enough to admit a man conveniently. The sudden transition from the howling of a tem- pest to comparative silence, from the fury of a pelting rain to the shelter of a roof, was bewildering, and I looked about me in wonder. While I stood in the semi-darkness that wrapped everything in gloom, the water dripping from my saturated garments, Meyong 144 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. drew out from a corner of the cave a manufactured flambeau and lighted it. By the glare it shed around I could see that I was in a smoke-blackened chamber large enough to contain fifty men, with high vaulted roof and rude seats hollowed out of the rock near the floor, which latter was covered with a thin coating of earth. There was a large heap of dry wood near the entrance, from which Meyong drew enough for a fire, which was soon blazing cheerily, the smoke escaping through some crevices in the roof. My first care was for my beloved gun; and having taken off the barrels and inverted them near the fire, I oiled the locks and steel parts of the stock, and, later, the barrels themselves; then stripping myself of clothing, I drew a blanket over my shoulders and waited for my garments to dry. Huge bats, disturbed by the unwonted light, flapped above us with regular beats of their broad wings, some of them large as pigeons, known as vampires, true blood-suckers. A small variety also flew softly about, hundreds of them. playing in the space above our heads and darting at us. “Zis old Charaib caverne,” said Meyong. “What, the one to which the chief carried the gov- ernor’s wife?” demanded I quickly. “Ouz, ze rock veritable.” : A long time ago,—nearly or quite two hundred years, — when the Carib was known only as the cruel, untamable cannibal, these Indians made long cruises in their canoes to procure victims for sacrifice at their feasts. One hundred miles north of Dominica lies the lovely island of Antigua, at that time thinly settled. To this island the Caribs made frequent pred- A DAY IN THE DEEP WOODS. 145 atory raids, always returning well rewarded. In one of these excursions the chief of the tribe captured the wife of the governor of Antigua, who lived in a secluded nook in that island, near the sea. She was brought a prisoner to this place, to this very cave, Meyong says, and held, contrary to their custom, for ransom. I will not try to depict the wrath and de- spair of the husband, nor the details of the pursuit he at once organized, but merely state that he sought her out, traced her to the Carib retreat by fragments of clothing torn from her by cruel thorns, and eventually succeeded in returning with her. She had been weeks in captivity, but had been well treated. This, then, was the cavern in which that delicate lady lay captive, nearly two centuries ago! Truly, it was a poor retreat for a tenderly nurtured woman, but a grand one for Meyong and myself. After the fire was well going, Meyong made a large torch, which he stuck in a crevice outside as a guide to Coryet in his ascent. The crabs, which the sly fel- low, with wise forethought, had deposited in a heap by the rock as we had ascended, were then brought in and some of them roasted; and these, with some cold boiled yam, made a grateful repast. We sat over the fire till late, then spread our blankets upon the earth and lay down to sleep. Several hours later I was awakened by a disturb- ance, and rolling over quickly, saw Coryet standing in the doorway. But it appeared more like his appa- rition than himself in flesh and blood, as he stood there shaking with cold. The dogs, which he held in leash, as soon as released slunk into a corner with their tails between their legs, uttering low whines. IO 146 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. > The fire had burned low, and it was only by its fit- ful gleams that I saw this strange vision. Meyong touched me, and whispered, “ Coryet see jumbie.” So it was; he had seen the visitor of whom I had but felt the presence. Looking upon this event, or chain of events, in the light of subsequent revelations, I laugh; but at that time I almost believed, with my boys, in the existence of a forest spirit. A MIDNIGHT MARCH. I47 CHAPTER X. A MIDNIGHT MARCH, AND WHAT CAME OF IT. THE APPARITION. —THE LOST CHIEF.—A FORGOTTEN LANGUAGE. —THE MARCH BY TORCHLIGHT.—STRANGE AND DISTORTED FORMS.— THE FOREST WILDERNESS. — A MYSTERIOUS SOUND. — “A TREE FELLED BY GOD.” — VIRGIN, PROTECT US !— COOKING BY STEAM.— THE ROSEWOOD CABIN. — THE CHIEF DISAPPEARS. —IS IT GOLD ?— A SMALL BOA CONSTRICTOR. —A CARIB BAS- ILISK.—- THE BIGGEST BUG IN THE WORLD.— IT COMES IN SEARCH OF THE NATURALIST. — THE HERCULES BEETLE. — CENTIPEDES. — SCORPIONS. —AN UNNAMED PALM WITH EDIBLE SEEDS.— A PRIESTESS OF OBEAH.— AFRICAN WITCHCRAFT. — ITS STRONGHOLD. — PROSTRATED BY THE HEAT. — FEVER. RAWING the well-nigh exhausted Coryet into the cave, Meyong quickly revived the fire, and assisted him to disburden himself of his load of pro- visions. Weak and trembling, the boy sank to the earth; and not till a drink of rum had been poured down his throat could he tell us the cause of his alarm. With us as excited listeners, he then gave a story, of which the following is the stbstance: He arrived at the camp late in the forenoon, and, finding we had left for the cave, followed on at once. Burdened with his load and the care of the dogs, he was obliged to travel slowly, and it was dark long be- fore he left the high-woods belt and struck the upper trail, He was not afraid, however, as the dogs gave him company, and he walked cheerily on, until a low 148 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. growl from one of his canine companions caused him to look around. Then he saw, creeping stealthily through.the low trees on his left, a figure which to his excited imagination seemed clothed in shining white. He was so terribly frightened, that, notwith- standing his h®avy load, he darted forward over the rocks at a rapid pace. The rattling of the stones set adrift by his feet, as they bounded down the steep mountain-side, impressed him the more that the spirit was pursuing him, and he ran with all his might. The flambeau that Meyong had prepared to guide him was now but a flickering. brand, and he did not see it until close upon it. By its presence, however, he was enabled more easily to find the cave, in the mouth of which he stood as before described. He had barely finished this recital when a loud ex- clamation from Meyong caused me to look up, and I saw in the place so lately occupied by Coryet another apparition. This time it was surely the ghost. He was not clad in white, however, but in tattered gar- ments of skin, and his long hands grasped the top of a staff such as no spirit could wield, assuredly. As soon as we had recovered from our surprise I sprang forward and aided this tottering figure to the fire. It was an.old man, a very old Indian, who, if he could speak, I thought, might be able to tell us of the cap- ture of that fair lady who was imprisoned here so many years ago. He uttered no word, made no sign; but we did not need either to inform us that he was starving and perishing. Again the rum was brought into requisition, again did my faithful Meyong bring forth from the ashes the tender crabs for our unex- pected guest. A MIDNIGHT MARCH. 149 Without a doubt, this was the jumbie that had given both Coryet and myself such a fright. This harmless, pitiful old man, who had approached us in the dire extremity of want, had nearly perished through being taken for a visitor from the spirit-world, which he manifestly so soon would reach. This assurance was not necessary to induce my boys to tenderly care for him, and we soon had the satisfaction of seeing the poor creature resting on the ground in peaceful slum- ber. After this event nothing occurred to disturb our rest, and we all slept well, the spirit laid that had alarmed us; and not one of those to whom this cave belonged in olden time did trouble us. We stayed there all the succeeding day, and renewed our search, though unsuccessfully, for the Dzadlotzn. Our guest slept till nearly noon, but when he awoke he seemed greatly refreshed, and strove to make us sensible of his gratitude. The words he uttered were those of an unknown tongue, but we knew that he fain would express his thanks, and tried to assure him that we understood him. It was finally concluded between Coryet and Me- yong that this old man was a crazy chief, who, refusing to submit to English rule, had fled to the mountains more than fifty years ago, whence he sometimes vis- sited the Indians of the coast by stealth. For several years he had not been seen, and it was thought that he was dead. He had been insane for many years. Towards night he became restless, and late in the evening he insisted upon going outside. Finally, his desire to depart grew so strong, and his gestures to us to follow so violent, that, after consultation, my boys were convinced that it would be best to follow I50 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. him. The night was dark, as the moon had not then risen, but it was clear. When the old man learned that we were willing to accompany him he seemed content; but whether joy or sadness overspread his features, it was all one with the expression of them, so sunken and wrinkled were they. The boys pre- pared torches and collected our luggagé, and then we started off. The old Indian struck a brisker gait than we had supposed him capable of, and we followed by the light of the torches. There is a weird solemnity about a night march in a great forest. On either side of you is a wall of inky blackness; before, behind, the same enclosing gloom, against which the torches send a feeble glare. By the time we had reached the high woods, where the trees were completely enveloped in masses of vines, our surroundings assumed an aspect wild and terrible. That hanging liane, twisted and contorted, took the shape of a serpent ready to dart at us as we passed. The flickering play of the light upon the leaves of trees and parasites, alternately bringing to view and leaving in shade strange forms, gave to everything a startlingly living appearance. It was as if all had been changed into animated beings, especially nox- ious insects, like scorpions and spiders, which, one and all, seemed crawling in our direction. At last we came into a more open forest, a densely wooded plateau, the home of the wild hog and the resort of runaway slaves in olden time. Very few, even of the hunters, visited these dark woods we were now traversing. We penetrated the dense shade, fol- lowing now our guide, for the boys were wholly at loss. Suddenly there boomed through the forest a A MIDNIGHT MARCH. I5t thunderous sound that waked the echoes of the entire region, accompanied by a shock as of a slight earth- ‘quake; then all was still as death. Startled, I seized Meyong by the arm, and inquired the cause of that noise. He replied, with a shrug, that it was “a tree felled by God,” and crossed himself devoutly. A tree felled by God! A monarch old and weather- beaten, that had outlived centuries of storm and hurri- cane, only to fall in the dead of night, when the breeze stirring would not have wakened a bird! Is there not sométhing grandly awful in this? — something that causes a thrill of awe and makes one regard with veneration the great Being who created all these won- ders,which are to us so great, to Him so small? It fell so close that, as it went crashing through the trees with the force of a thunderbolt, the wind created by its fall fanned our torches into brighter blaze. With indignant and frightened howls our curs broke away from Coryet and disappeared in the darkness, carrying with them our hopes of capturing the wild hogs of the forest. Scarcely had I recovered from this shock when there came borne upon the still night air, the faint puffing of steam, like the sobs of an en- gine in from a long run. It grew louder and louder as we advanced; and as neither of my boys knew the cause of it, and the old man spoke nothing but Carib, to us as Hebrew, we were forced to march on in igno- rance, myself in doubt, the boys in trepidation, mut- tering prayers to the Virgin. At last our guide halted right on the banks of a deep ravine and threw a great stone into the depths below us, from which howled and sputtered escaping steam. Immediately upon the throwing of the stone there was an increased force 152 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. given to the noise, as though it had struck in a small pipe and been forcibly ejected. The noise then for a moment ceased, and the old man beckoned us to fol- low quickly, as he plunged into the ravine and scram- bled over great rocks and across a roaring brook. It was long after midnight when he finally stopped at the side of a great rock, against which was built a low cabin, the sides of logs, the roof of thatch. To gain entrance we were obliged to penetrate a deep thicket of low trees which completely screened it. As the light from the torches revealed the dingy interior, I involuntarily shrank back and thought wistfully of the comfortable cave we had so lately left. Resigning myself to the bed made for me, I was soon wrapped in slumber. The old man, who had disappeared, re-appeared in the morning with a good repast, —yams, iguana, and land crabs —but all doz/ed. This circumstance, to- gether with the absence of fire, led me to investigate his cuisine; and, if the reader has not already antici- pated it, I can tell how this poor Carib utilized the forces of nature and made them do his bidding. Fol- lowing him to the ravine, I saw, in a small opening in the ground whence issued puffs of steam accom- panied by loud reports, the source of all the noises of the preceding night. Near this steam-escape was another hole whence the water bubbled up and over, flowing off in a hot stream. Into this boiling spring my friend lowered a tannier-root fastened at the end of alialine. The tannier is, when boiled, of greater consistency than a potato, else he would have lost his breakfast. In a few minutes the vegetable was com- pletely cooked, and he drew it out. Meat he lowered A MIDNIGHT MARCH. 153 down in small baskets made of tough roots. A small cold stream flowed near by; and thus this rich-poor man had, with the game of the forest, everything he wanted right at hand. Returning to the cabin, my attention was called to the logs of which its walls were built. They were solid rosewood, which once grew wild in these for- ests. Could they have been transported to the coast, they would have brought a good price. The cabin was one of those built by some of the Maroons, or runaway slaves, some forty years ago, when they escaped to the mountains and formed so formidable a body that troops were required several years to capture and subdue them. The space we were in was shaped like the bottom of a shallow bowl, surrounded by high hills, the dry crater, probably, of an extinct volcano. There were many evidences of the residence of the runaways, in dismantled cabins, and gardens, and fruit-trees. It is thought that the wild hogs roaming about the surrounding hills were from their stock. We were much puzzled to account for the mys- terious visits the old man paid now and then to a gloomy gorge, into which he would not allow us to penetrate. My boys related the story, prevalent some ten years previously, that the old man had a lovely grand-daughter, only survivor of the family he took with him to the woods. They thought she must be, at the present time, about thirty years old; and they described her as being as beautiful as the old man was ugly, which was saying a good deal. But we did not at that me see this fair Carib, nor did we even obtain conclusive proof of her existence. There was, however, much in the old man’s behavior that 154 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. gave us the impression that he had a hidden treasure near of some kind; he seemed as anxious to get rid of us as before he had been to have us come with him. When the old Indian visited the gorge again, Coryet was on his track, at a distance not to be observed, yet near enough to note his movements. He followed the bed of the stream running through the hot-spring basin until it was narrowed to a rivulet flowing between high converging walls of rock. A narrow ledge, sometimes in, sometimes above the water, afforded a pathway through, after following which for a few hundred feet, the old Indian disappeared in an open- ing in the rock. It was just wide enough for Coryet to squeeze through, but soon opened into a wide chamber-like passage so dark that the boy was terri- fied and soon beat a retreat. He could hear his guide, however, as he scrambled over loose rocks and stones, penetrating deeper and deeper into the cavern. He lighted a match and examined the rock, but discovered nothing save that it seemed veined with sparkling metal. He brought me a fragment contain- ing this ore, but whether it was gold or pyrites I could not tell at the time. I tried to save it for examination when I reached home, but it was lost. Whether the old man took the alarm or not we could not tell, but he did not appear at all that day. In the afternoon Meyong came in with a snake, a species of boa, and the only one peculiar to this island. He called it a “Serpent téte chien,” or Dog- head snake. It was twelve feet in length and looked capable of crushing a sheep to deagh —as indeed I was told it could. The little inoffensive agouti and birds are its prey, and it lives in holes in the earth and A MIDNIGHT MARCH. 155 beneath loose piles of stones. It is a terror to the negroes and Indians, who fear contact with its slimy skin more than they dread the Lance-head, a poison- ous and deadly serpent of Martinique. Fortunately, though rather abundant in the forests, they do not willfully attack man, and seldom do harm more than to pay occasional visits to the hen-roosts of sequestered . settlements. This must be the serpent of which the Caribs had a tradition, two centuries ago, when the island was in their possession, and white men rarely visited it except as prisoners. But when a white man did visit them he was joyfully received, and a feast was prepared, of which, though in his honor, he did not partake, but only formed a part of it. They used to relate to strangers the story of a great and frightful serpent, which had its lair in the deep forests of the island. It had upon its head a brilliant stone, like a priceless carbuncle for brilliancy, which was usually covered with a movable skin like the eyelid. When it de- scended to the streams to drink, or when in sportive mood, it would withdraw this skin and flash forth such a dazzling light that no one could look upon the fiery rays without losing his sight. The day passed quietly and the night came on. The old Indian did not return, and we did not expect to see him again, and decided that we would make an early start next morning for our sea-coast camp. A fresh bed of leaves was made up, and we retired early within the cabin with rosewood walls. When it was quite late and very dark, I was awakened by a rustling among the leaves as of objects crawling over them. I put out my hand to ascertain what was there, but drew 156 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. it back with a tremor of horror. It had come in contact with the diggest bug in the world. Its back seemed hard as iron, and its mandibles were as long as my fingers. I had always boasted my immunity from bed- bugs, and that the greatest army of them could not make me afraid. But now they were coming to con- vince me of my mistake. I could hear them burrowing through the leaves, could feel them crawling over me, and, unable to endure it longer, sprang up with a cry and rushed out into the open air. The perspiration rolled off me, and my hands twitched nervously, for I was pretty thoroughly frightened. At my command, my boys lighted a torch and examined the leaves ; and when they drew out three huge beetles almost as large as my hand, and I stood regarding them with horror, they burst into fits of laughter. “Ah! Monsieur very fear, he ‘fraid jumbie, he *fraid razor-grinder.” “What do you call them?” “ Person say he ‘razor-grinder.’” “Does he grind razors?” “Oh, no! mazs he make noise like he make to grind.” “ Hark zat noise!” said Meyong, raising his hand to command silence. Through the forest came a sharp, whizzing sound, like that produced by the wheel of the perambulating razor and knife grinder. “Zat make by heself.” “ How does he make it?” His answer was to this effect: The beetle is pro- vided with two long mandibles, articulating like the thumb and forefinger, placed ‘immediately above the mouth. They are smooth and hard, and furnished with protuberances, or notched, while the upper man- ‘ZIG ap] (‘sepnssazy sagsoudq) ‘atraagd sainowsy anf 158 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. dible is lined on its under surface with velvety hairs. The beetle would seize hold of a small branch of a tree, exactly as we would grasp it between the thumb and forefinger. Then it would, with its wings, whirl itself round and round, slowly at first, but increasing, so rapidly as to produce a continuous buzz or whir. This it would keep up until the limb was severed. The reason for this I could not find out. The beetle lives on rotten wood, it is thought, and in cutting into these branches it may be in search of food. But the most plausible reason is, that it is calling its mate. This is strengthened by the fact that the females are not furnished with these mandibles. It flies high in the air among the trees at night; it burrows in the ground, beneath leaves and in decayed wood, in the daytime. Being strictly nocturnal in its habits, it is seldom found, unless, as in the present instance, it goes in search of the coll€ctor. It is the largest known beetle in the world, the specimen in my possession being six and one quarter inches in length. The only species approaching it in size is the Goliath-beetle of the African coast, which is broader than this, but not so long. Guiana is the home of this beetle, and he has never been found out of South America except in this one island of Do- minica. Well is he called the Hercules, for that is his name, Dynastes Hercules; and modestly he bears his title, for he does not presume upon his size and strength to annoy man or ill-treat his insect neigh- bors. He is a strict vegetarian, and leads a happy, careless life among the tree-tops at night, and upon the ground during the day. The only specimen I was able to bring with me A MIDNIGHT MARCH. 159 to America was a full-grown male. The proboscis and whole forward part are jet-black, the legs and under parts rich brown, the wing-cases, which cover the back and sides, greenish-olive dotted and streaked with black. It is altogether one of the most attractive entomological specimens I secured during my trip. Further search among the leaves revealed several centipedes, which were more to be dreaded than the beetles, as their bites will throw one into a fever. A scorpion, also, was.turned out from his lurking-place beneath a log. Both these pests prefer old dwellings and decaying ruins for their abodes, and though not so abundant in Dominica as in Martinique and St. Lucia, are often the cause of alarm, and sometimes of sickness, to the inhabitants. Their bites rarely prove fatal. To escape annoyance from these insects, I always, when practicable, slept in my hammock; they did not then have so open a field, and I only ran the risk of having one drop from the roof or a branch above me. Owing to the disturbance just mentioned, we were up long before daylight, and started on the homeward trail before the woods were fairly alight. The “ Sun- set bird” (AZyzarchus Ober) sent his tremulous cry through the forest, as we turned our backs upon the boiling springs and commenced descending a gentle plain well studded with trees. We had probably seen the last of our Indian friend, and though we felt rather conscience-stricken at leaving him without a farewell, we reflected that his seclusion was of his own seeking. Our yams and tanniers were quite finished, and we 160 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. were obliged to use as substitute the seeds of a species of palm, a tall and slender tree with drooping leaves. It is a species not yet described, I think, and is either acocos ora geonoma. Theseeds are dark and shining, and grow in clusters at the bases of the leaf-stalks. They are edible, and constitute an important portion of the food of the forest Caribs. A beautiful plant, which nearly covered the trees along the streams, was the Aliza longifolia; it had white, star-shaped flowers, and glossy laurel-like leaves. Every old stump and decaying tree was covered with a fuchsia-like plant with lovely pink and scarlet flowers, the Al/oplectus crestatus, which en- veloped every disfigured tree in a garment of beauty. We reached without adventure the great river, and followed it down to its mouth, where was an abandoned plantation in the possessign of negroes. A dilapidated hut was pointed out to me as being occupied by a famous sorceress, a priestess of Obeah, who could give one acharm that would kill one’s enemy, or cause a robber to restore stolen property. Her fame extended beyond the confines of the island, and she was visited by many credulous negroes from other places. Obeah, a relic of African witchcraft, has strong hold upon the ignorant blacks and Indians. Salibia, the valley in which I camped for more than a month, was once the stronghold of the priests of Obeah. For years they held sway there, and many people are supposed to have been killed by their poisons. The laws of the English government are severe in its punishment, but it is practiced toa greater extent than is generally known. It was the middle of the afternoon when we reached A MIDNIGHT MARCH. 161 the fording-place; the heat had been increasing since ten in the morning, when first we were brought to feel its force. Having eaten little that day, I was weak at noon, and experienced violent pains in the head. On the river bank I halted and would gladly have slept, but my boys urged me on. The water was only about knee-deep, and I waded in; half-way across, the current nearly swept me off my feet, and I grew faint and dizzy, and had barely reached the bank when I fell to the ground. Beneath a guava bush my boys stretched me out and watched while I slept; and at dark they awoke me and assisted me toa house. Here the kind mistréss attended me for nearly a week, until the fever had somewhat abated, when, leaving my collections and camping equipments to be forwarded by Meyong, I took a coasting vessel from a near port for the Caribbean coast. II 162 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. CHAPTER XI. A CRUISE IN THE HURRICANE SEASON. AN EXPERIMENT IN COFFEE CULTURE.-—— THE PEST OF THE COFFEE PLANT. — LIBERIAN COFFEE VERSUS MOCHA. -—— AN AFRICAN DISEASE. — GATHERING IN THE SICK.— DOWN THE ‘CARIBBEAN COAST.— THE FLAME-TREE. — THE ORCHARD OF LIMES. — PROFITS OF LIME CULTURE. — THE MAROON PARTY. — THE STAMPEDE. — FAREWELL TO DOMINICA. — CORAL IS- LANDS. — AN IMMENSE GAME PRESERVE. — THE “ DOCTOR.” — THE JIGGERS. — NEW BIRDS.—A WEARY VOYAGE. — SEASONS OF THE TROPICS. — TEMPESTS. — CALMS. — PROVISIONS EX- HAUSTED. — TURKEY OR JACKASS. — SHARK. — ODORS OF SPICES. — THE TORNADO. — HURRICANE BIRDS. — PITONS OF ST. LUCIA. — ST. VINCENT. — PALM AVENUE. — THE SPA. — HOSPITABLE PEOPLE. — BASALTIC CLIFFS. — RICHMOND VALE. — FALLS OF BALLEINE.— THE WATERSPOUT. MILE from the town of Roseau are the cliffs of St. Aramant, above which is the snug little country seat of Dr. Imray, one of the oldest resi- dents of Dominica. A friend and correspondent of Sir Joseph Hooker, he is an ardent botanist, and has several of the native plants named in his honor. For a generation, the good doctor ministered to the sick and afflicted; for more than thirty years he was the leading physician of the island. At last, feeling the need of rest, well advanced in years, though in robust health, he delegated his authority and practice, with THE HURRICANE SEASON. 163 all needful pills and potions, to a most worthy suc- cessor, Dr. Nicholls, a young Englishman, full of love for his profession and energy in the practice of its duties, and with the aged doctor’s botanical pre- dilections. These two gentlemen, then, active in everything pertaining to the welfare of the island, cultured and with scientific tastes, are of inestimable value to the inhabitants, and a blessing to strangers. Dr. Imray is devoting all his time to the reintroduc- tion of coffee into the island. Years ago it was cul- tivated to such an extent that it acquired a name and reputation ; in the latter part of the last century there were over two hundred coffee plantations, giving an annual yield of three hundred thousand pounds; but with the abolition of slavery its culture languished, valuable coffee estates were abandoned, and at pres- ent the island does not produce sufficient for its own consumption. About forty years ago there appeared a blight upon the coffee-plant that ruined whole crops and aided in the abandonment of its culture. This was in the shape of a coccus, a scale insect that fixed itself upon the leaves and buds, causing them to shrivel. This undoubtedly came of neglect, and increased until it acquired the mastery over the entire island. In Guadeloupe they have the scale insect, but it has never gained ascendency over the planters, as more attention has been paid to the trees. Acting upon the theory that the leaf of the Mocha variety was too tender to resist the attacks of the insect, Dr. Imray has successfully introduced the Liberian variety, the epidermis of the leaves being thicker and tougher. At the time of my visit he had a little plantation of trees about three years old, some of which were in flower and bearing. 164 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. Upon my return to Roseau I was suffering from a low fever that would not be shaken off; and upon the advice of the two doctors I decided to rest for a month, either in the mountains or at some point on the west- ern shore. The young doctor was going down the island to visit a distant town, and it was decided by my friends that I should occupy a seat in his boat until he reached Battalie, Dr. Imray’s lime orchard on the Caribbean coast. Aside from a large and constantly increasing prac- tice, Dr. Nicholls was burdened with the duty, al- most self-imposed, of medical superintendent of the Yaws hospital. The name yaws, or yaw, is of Afri- can origin, and is said to be derived from the resem- blance of the fungoid ulcers or tumors, which cover the skin in this disease, to a raspberry, or strawberry, of which yaw is the native African name. To present a description of this disease, unknown in America and Europe, I quote from the doctor’s annual report for 1878. “The disease Frambesia, or Yaws, was introduced into the West Indies by negro slaves imported from Africa. The date of its ingress into Dominica is un- known, but it existed in the island early in the present century. It did not, however, make any great head- way before emancipation, for each estate of consider- able size had its ‘ Yaws-house,’ and the infected patients were there segregated and treated by a nurse, under the direction of a medical attendant. Upon the abolition of slavery, and the consequent impoverish- ment of many estates and the total abandonment of others, the medical surveillance of the negroes came to an end, and the number of persons affected with chen THE HURRICANE SEASON. 165 yaws increased considerably. The rugged conforma- tion of the country of Dominica, the smallness of the population as compared with the area, the facilities for ‘squatting,’ and the absence, until recently, of a medical service, all tended to favor the spread of the disease. About eight years ago the number of cases had increased to such an alarming extent that meas- ures were taken for the repression of the disease. Hospitals were established, yaws patients were ad- mitted and cured, and it was hoped that the disease would be extinguished; but the system adopted was stopped too soon, and the malady reappeared and spread with great rapidity. The government, in a few years, had to grapple with a contagious disease, which was present in every district of the country, and which held hundreds of victims in its grasp. “Fortunately the disease is one amenable to medical treatment, and the yaws hospitals, now in full work- ing order, are fast removing the blot which has ex- isted upon the public health for so many years. That the disease will be finally climinated from Dominica is disbelieved in by many, but I see no reason why this desirable event should not really occur. In former days the disease existed in all the islands of the West Indies, but now it is confined to few.” . Empowered by the government to gather in and isolate all persons found afflicted with the yaws, un- dismayed by opposition from the ignorant or by the accumulation of filth in these Augean stables, this young enthusiast went to work with a zeal and intelli- gence that presaged success, to eradicate the disease. Under his direction the police of the island scoured the neighborhood of the villages, and brought into 166 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. the hospitals the filthiest offscourings of humanity. Of course there was much difficulty in the way, not only from the patients themselves, who preferred hugging this living death and communicating it to others, to separation from their friends, but from rabid philanthropists of the “ Exeter-Hall” type, who saw in this an infringement upon the negro’s liberty. The disease is engendered and propagated by a filthy mode of living and insufficient diet; hence, the most important agents in effecting a cure are cleanli- ness and good living. No one would suppose the natives would object to that, but they do, and neglect no opportunity for escape from the hospitals; thus the doctor’s position is one of thankless labor and vigilance. It was a five-hours’ row to Prince Rupert’s, and half that to Battalie. We left Roseau in a long dug- out, rowed by four men and guided by a cockswain, and rapidly glided along the Caribbean coast. Re- clining beneath an arched canvas, we could look out upon a swiftly-gliding shore, green sugar plantations, bluff headlands, narrow valleys. Being June, when all the flowering trees are in bloom, and when the fruits are ripe and ripening, it was a pleasure to note the vegetation. Conspicuous above all foliage was the Flamboyant, the “ flame-tree,” with its broad umbrella- shaped top, one mass of flaming crimson. Without a leaf at the beginning of the season, its twigs and branches are covered with gorgeous flowers. So far as you can distinguish any object on shore, you see the flame-tree, its bright coloring making it as prominent at a distance as bright-plumaged birds, which, as in THE HURRICANE SEASON. 164 the case of the “ pink curlew,” I have recognized when mere specks in space. At dark we entered a crescent-shaped bay and ran the boat upon a pebbly beach, which was pierced by two rivers as they entered the sea. Overhanging them were cocoa palms, shading them almost to the sands, while sea-side grapes hung above wave-worn rocks and rounded pebbles, and a forest of lime-trees filled a narrow valley enclosed between high cliffs. The manager of the estate welcomed us with a good dinner and comfortable beds in the doctor’s own house, which always remained ready for his occu- pancy, though he rarely visited it. The next morn- ing we whipped the streams with poor success, and attacked the sea-birds with scanty returns; in the afternoon, my fever returning, and the doctor continu- ing his journey, both fish and birds had a rest. The valley of Battalie is one great field of lime-trees ——a smooth sea of verdure — hiding beneath its sur- face golden fruit that is constantly dropping to the earth, and being carried to the stone mill beneath the cliff. Twenty years ago Dr. Imray conceived the plan of converting a poorly-paying sugar plantation into an orchard of limes, and he thus made of a nar- row valley, riven from gigantic rocks and strewn with volcanic bowlders, a garden of profit and delight. The majority of the trees are fifteen years old; they first bear at three years of age, and yield good crops at five years. Since the first full crop he has re- alized a large income from these trees, his manager informing me that during two seasons the returns amounted to two thousand pounds sterling each. The trees are thickly planted so as to shade the 168 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. ground, and after they acquire their growth need no clearing beneath. A corps of boys and girls gather the limes as they fall to the earth —they are never picked — and carry them to the mill, where they are passed between two upright rollers, such as were in use when the sugar cane was raised there. The expressed juice is con- ducted to evaporating pans and boiled down to the consistency of molasses — to a density of one-tenth — and then run into fifty-gallon hogsheads for shipment to England. It was worth, in 1877, about twenty pounds sterling per hogshead, and has brought thirty pounds; and the plantation has yielded from seventy to eighty hogsheads in a season. The juice is used in making citric acid, and is shipped in its concentrated form to reduce freight. It would seem possible to further reduce this item of ex- pense by the complete crystallization of the juice. Such an experiment has been tried in Florida, though without complete success. There is not there a suffi- cient quantity of limes, though, from the experience of Dr. Imray, it would seem more profitable to raise limes than oranges. I do not, however, think the lime will flourish so luxuriantly, nor produce so much juice, in Florida, as in the rich soil of the West Indian islands. The trees are without fruit during two months only in the year — February and March — and at other seasons are fragrant with fruit in various stages of growth. One day, two or three weeks after my arrival, the priest of a neighboring village, Pére Michel, came over to the plantation for a little recreation, and gathered some of the people together for a partre THE HURRICANE SEASON. 169 riviere. By different names do the residents of these islands call these gatherings in the open air, which in other places are denominated picnics. Fartze reviére, the French name, has a_ suggestiveness about it that picnic has not; and to go on a “ maroon party,” as they sometimes style it, transports one in imagination at once to the wild forests. In the afternoon we were all gathered at the upper end of the valley, beneath a great mango; cloths were spread on the ground, and-upon them were placed our eatables: roast pig, chickens, and vegetables, with ale, claret, and sherry. The pére and myself were the only members of the party who were not, in a manner more or less remote, connected with the im- mortal Ham; but that did not mar our enjoyment of the festivities. Before the spread had been well dis- cussed, a sudden shower came down with fury — as showers are apt to do in the summer season — sus- pending operations and driving us to shelter. As we were on the upper bank of the river, and the stepping- stones were covered a foot deep in fifteen minutes, we were all obliged to wade the turbid stream, in great discomfort. These June showers, though lacking the force of those of the later months of the year, are nevertheless of frequent occurrence. They warned me away from an island so mountainous, and but a week passed be- fore I was speeding north to an island of lesser eleva- tion, and consequently less rainfall. Furnished with letters of introduction from the presi- dent of Dominica, Mr. Eldredge, I visited the islands of Barbuda and Antigua, spending there two months, shooting deer, pigeons, doves, and wild guinea-fowl. 170 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. These islands are of coral formation, and the former is a perfect preserve, being abundantly stocked with- game. Two gentlemen lease it from the crown, though it formerly belonged to the ancient Codrington family. Its horses are celebrated throughout the is- lands, being descended from imported Arab stock. The climate of Antigua is perceptibly warmer than that of the mountainous islands, though a cool breeze freshens a great portion of the day. It is hot in-the morning from seven to ten, when a breeze springs up. At noon it is intensely hot, but in the shade the cool sea-breeze makes it bearable. Another oppressive spell is near sunset, before the evening winds set in; but by eight o’clock the air has cooled, and the nights are endurable. In July and August, when I was there, there were frequent showers; rain fell for an hour or two quite unexpectedly, and as quickly ceased. The wind blows nearly always from the east, and when it changes to the west, a hurricane may be expected. In Antigua, alone, I suffered from mosquitoes, and was obliged to protect myself by a net. Fleas, also, disturbed my rest at night; and not the universal flea only,. but a cousin of his, which can “ discount” the common insect largely. I allude to the “jigger,” or chegoe, which, not content, like his relative, with a hop, skip, and a bite, penetrates the skin, and lays its eggs beneath the surface. I awoke one morning with an itching of my toes, which frequent rubbing failed to allay; and examina- tion revealed four white tumors. They were as large as peas, and in the center of each was a little black speck. Ignorant at that time of the existence of such creatures, I called my boy, William, who at once pro- THE HURRICANE SEASON. IVI nounced thegn jiggers. How to remove them was the next question. William soon settled that, for he called in the first old negress that happened to be passing, and she turned those jiggers out of their nests with an adroitness that showed long practice. Care must be taken that none of the eggs remain in the wound, as the larve hatched from them burrow into the flesh, and eventually create painful ulcers. The eggs and insect are contained in a sac, which must be turned out with a pin or needle with great care, and the cavity filled with tobacco ashes to de- stroy any remaining germ. After I had got rid of my unwelcome tenants, there was a hole in each toe large enough to contain a humming-bird’s egg. This, my first experience with the pulex penetrans, was so satis- factory that I carefully guarded against the develop- ment of any more eggs of those loathsome insects. A few hours are sufficient to give the jigger a hiding- place, and as the sensation he causes is a rather pleasant itching only, for a time, he is sometimes not discovered until a painful sore is formed. The ne- groes are very negligent in attending to these sores, which increase to such an extent as to endanger their limbs; negroes with all their toes eaten away are daily met with, and I have seen several who have lost a leg from this same cause. It was my intention to visit St. Kitts, with a view to obtaining some specimens of monkeys residing there, but an invitation to an island in another direc- tion caused me to abandon it. Though St. Kitts may be very interesting in many other respects, it is espe- cially so to a naturalist, as it contains great numbers of monkeys, being one of three islands in the Antilles 172 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. honored by these quadrupeds as their abdde. Barba- dos is said to have very few, and Grenada has large troops of them. Those of St. Kitts are numerous and do much injury to the crops. It is related that they have access to a passage under the sea, to Nevis, a distance of six miles. Before leaving Antigua I met an old acquaintance, a dentist, who had sailed in the vessel in which I took passage from New York, and who had left me at Mar- tinique, the first island of the chain at which we touched. Though he had never taken a degree, he was gener- ally known as “The Doctor.” He was an apt manip- ulator of the forceps, and had accumulated, during the six months we were separated, twenty-five hun- dred dollars, extracted from the innocent islanders. - Now, the doctor was a genius. He had a genius for making money, and a special tact for taking care of number one. Leaving New York with but sixty dol- lars and his stock in trade, he landed in the West Indies with his cash greatly augmented, and with the captain, mate, cook, in fact the whole crew, deeply in his debt. That I escaped with a whole tooth in my head I attribute to some special interposition of Providence. The doctor’s period of sojourn on ship- board may be divided into two portions: that in which he was pulling, or “ fixin’,” teeth, and that in which he was sea-sick. He was happy in the exercise of the former, and unhappy in that of the latter. When the doctor appears on deck with a particularly happy expression on his countenance, and polishing some- body’s molar on the lapel of nis coat, beware of him! The whole crew would then shudder with apprehen- sion. THE HURRICANE SEASON. 173 The doctor and I went on shore. We climbed the paved streets and descended again to the beautiful Jardin des Plantes. On our way the doctor indulged in a free flow of that happy humor peculiar to the Western Yankee (for we are all Yankees in those islands). We met boys and boys, boys by dozens and boys by scores, and some girls; but the very first group that drew our attention and provoked an out- burst of the doctor’s ever-ready wit, con- sisted of boys. “Tsay, young man, pull down your vest !” This was addressed to a ragged little darky with beaming face and hkright eyes, the center of a bunch of the most ragged and dirty gamins we ever beheld. There was not a whole ar- ticle of clothing fur- niture among them. If one had a shirt, he ft GROUP oF fGAMINs. had no _ pantaloons; and the one that boasted the latter, had the least of the former. There was not even an apology for a single whole garment in the crowd, yet every mem- ber of it was as blissfully unconscious of the gro- tesque appearance he made as were the doctor and myself aware of it. But the most glaringly conspic- uous feature of the collection was a huge vest worn 174 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. by the brightest and sauciest of the five—a very grandfather among vests, which, descending to the urchin’s thighs, left but a scanty drapery of shirt vis- ible beneath. We sailed away from Antigua one evening, the doc- tor’s store increased by nearly eight hundred dollars ; mine, by one new bird. This was in September, the very worst month of the year for travel. Nearly every craft that sailed these seas was drawn up on shore to await the close of the “hurricane season ;” and this one in which we had taken passage was on her way to Barbados, hoping to escape a blow until she could make shelter there. The “hurricane season” extends from the middle of July to the middle of October, and is at its height in the autumnal equinox. It is a season of calms; the sea is deceitfully quiet, and the wind variable. During the greater part of the year the wind blows from the east or north-east in the well-known “trades ;” but at this season it dies away, coming in puffs from different quarters. The winds that precede the hurri- canes usually commence blowing from the west or north-west, and increase in strength until they acquire that terrific force that devastates islands and destroys in a few hours the work of years. They shoot through the air in different directions, sometimes from above, perpendicular to the earth; and woe to the vessel caught abroad at such a time. In this connection I may speak of the seasons of the year, which are not so distinctly marked as is commonly supposed. The first three months of the year are generally fine; they constitute the best por- tion of the hunting season, when the woods are driest THE HURRICANE SEASON. 175 and coolest, and the birds in perfect plumage. In April commence light showers, which sometimes ex- tend through June, and are of daily occurrence. The heat increases, and the months of August and Sep- tember are the hottest, as they are the sickliest, of the year. August ushers in the season of storms and hurricanes, when the calm intervals are almost insupportable on account of the heat. The last three months of the year constitute the season of the great rains, when for days together the rain falls heavily. These are the months for endemic fevers. Though the storms are frequently accompanied by thunder and lightning, I did not see, during my stay of nearly two years, such furious displays as I have witnessed in the North. We drifted south of Antigua without a breeze. The morning and the afternoon saw Antigua’s hills not’ far away; and the long, hot day was spent upon a motionless sea, without a breath of wind to fan our flapping sails. At sunset Guadeloupe’s windward island was in sight—a low, flat land, with misty mountains far to westward. The triple peak of Mont- serrat showed black against a glowing sky; the sun in its descent drew a pathway of gold along the sil- very sea and darted into our faces its fiery beams. “The western wave was all aflame; - The day was well-nigh done.” In heat and discomfort the day went out; but dark- ness had scarcely enveloped us when the sea began to dimple with little- wavelets, that increased and lapped with refreshing sound against our vessel’s sides; then the sails felt the coming of the evening breeze, and 176 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. lay well over to leeward, and we moved slowly on our course. To avoid being becalmed under the lee of Guadeloupe, our captain had taken the longer route to windward, and we were now crossing the pathway of Columbus when he first approached these islands of the Caribbees. Next morning, when we went “about” for Marie Galante, the only island in sight was that lone rock of Désirade—the “ desired island” of Columbus, when he was expecting to discover land. Our captain was a negro, black as his African an- cestor and without a brutish instinct the less. Plainly, he had missed his calling, which was to labor in the cane-fields beneath the lash of insolence-rebuking overseer. His provisions of yam and fish gave out on the evening of the second day, and my private store, also, failed me. The only meat on board was in living shape—a turkey and a jackass. That night the turkey died, welcoming death as a relief from sore disease. The jackass, patient for a day, waxed wroth as time passed on without food or drink, and broke the stillness of the second night with discordant brays. The deck was crowded with sable passengers; the “cabin” was filled high with bags of coffee and guano and sundry boxes, and at the farther end was a stifled room in which was a berth allotted by the captain to me as a first-class passenger. Late in the evening I worked my way with difficulty to the room to retire. It was very dark and very evil-smelling, and I reached my hand up to open a little slide above the bunk, for air and light. It came in contact with something for- eign, which, upon being shaken, gave signs of life and alarm, and a woman’s voice demanded what I THE HURRICANE SEASON. 177- wanted. Retreating hastily, I inquired of the captain if there were not some mistake, and he replied that the berth was mine, and he would have the woman re- moved. She was one of several, who, having only deck passage, had been allowed to lie down in the cabin on the bags of coffee, as the deck was damp. Waiting a little while, I again went down; and my anger and dismay may be imagined when I found another colored female in the place of the first. Again I sought counsel of the captain; again was the cabin boy dispatched to warn these interlopers out. Allow- ing another interval to elapse, I again descended, re- moved shoes and coat, and sprang lightly into the bunk, ready to fall asleep in an instant. As I alighted, a cry of pain saluted me; I became conscious that another of those detestable women had usurped my place, and fled quickly to the deck. The cabin boy rescued my shoes and coat, and I sat down upon a coil of rope, resolved to brave the dangers of the night- damp rather than those of that vile hole below. The third morning brought with it hunger, and a drink of black coffee. Later, the turkey, having had the feathers duly plucked from his bones, was placed before us; but my regard for the turkey was too great to allow me to eat, and I drew my belt the tighter, and looked wistfully toward the purple clouds that I knew were mountains, south of us. The day passed, and in the afternoon the sailors caught a shark. Hun- ger had now overcome all scruples, and_I ate with rel- ish of the coarse flesh that at any other time would have been disgusting. Another night came, and, warned by the experience of the previous one, I spread my blanket on deck and slept soundly, though we had 12 178 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. several heavy squalls that careened our vessel alarm- ingly. At daylight I awoke, dreaming of coffee and lime groves, for I recognized in the land-breeze that came to us the odor of spices and the freshness of earth, and knew that we were under the lee of Dominica. We were off Prince Rupert’s Bay —a secure harbor for a fleet — with the town of Prince Rupert’s, hidden in cocoa palms, lying in a fever-stricken valley. We were again becalmed, and night found us just entering the bay of Roseau, with a sea dashing over the sea- wall and jetty too violently to allow us to land. “We expect you at your old quarters,” wrote my good friend William Stedman; and one of his do- mestics shouldered my trunk and conveyed it to his hospitable mansion. What a delight it was to be back among these gen- erous people! Whatever the characteristics of English or Scotch at home, they soon acquire, in the West Indies, a feeling for a stranger fellow-man that is wondrous kind. It seemed like getting home again, this return to Dominica after a few months’ absence, and I would gladly have remained among my friends of the coast; I was soon in the mountains, however, searching for some birds of which I had heard, and was rewarded by the discovery of several new varieties. Returning to the coast after ten days’ absence, I ‘was caught in a thunder-gust, the rain coming from three ways at once, out of three converging gorges; the path was flooded in a few minutes, and the river roaring loudly and seething like a caldron. The storm passed and hurried on over the town, drench- ing it, and swept out over the sea, where it remained THE HURRICANE SEASON. I79 visible a long time as a heavy cloud. I found my friend putting up the “hurricane shutters” to his windows, which overlooked the bay directly above the sea-wall. The sea was agitated, and a dense cloud of mist came hurrying up from the south-west with a muffled roar. For a long time we were in suspense ; the sun went down red and blinking behind a wall of vapor. The storm passed us without doing damage, though later intelligence reached us that it had struck the island of Grenada and toppled over three hundred houses. Immediately preceding the hurricanes, there arrive off the Caribbean coast vast numbers of birds called, from their cries, “‘Twa-oo.” They are said to be the harbingers of hurricanes, and only appear during the calms, immediately before a storm. They cover the water in large flocks, and come in from the desolate sandy islands where they breed. They are the sooty tern (the Sterna fuliginosa), but are known to the natives as “Hurricane-birds.” When I arrived in Dominica the sea was black with them, but on the morning after the storm they had disappeared, to a bird, as completely as though blown into another sphere. Steaming south, past Martinique, and by the way of Barbados, I found myself, one morning early in October, under the Pitons of St. Lucia, two pointed mountains rising out of the sea, the most beautiful and curious of any in these islands. They are about six hundred feet in height, wooded to their summits, and dark green. St. Lucia is famous as being the home of the infamous snake known as the “Iron Lance,”— of which I speak more at length in my description of 180 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. Martinique. Poisonous and venomous, it has yearly many victims, and is more feared than the fever, for which Castries, St. Lucia’s principal town, is celebrated. Crossing the channel south of St. Lucia, we arrived in the afternoon off the northern end of St. Vincent, which, from the steamer’s deck, five miles off shore, appeared a dream of an island, suspended between sky and sea, yet solid and compact. As we glided through the blue waters, and the afternoon sun fell upon the island, we could view it from northern to southern end, one block of hazy, purple cloud, an immense amethyst, with shades and depths that varied as the sun lighted up the yellow plains and dark mountain-tops, and sought to penetrate the sombre valleys and ravines. Behind a curving beach a little town showed out, with red-tiled roofs gleaming from beneath thick groves of palms, through which a church pointed its spire skyward. There were no outlying rocks or islands, no jagged cliffs or jutting promon- tories, but, springing at once from the sea, every angle sharp and clear-cut, the island presented the appear- ance of a huge, opaque crystal. Though twenty- five miles in length, it appeared so small that one might fancy he could row around it in an hour or two. At five in the afternoon we entered Kingston harbor, a bay open to the west and south-west, deep and spa- cious enough to float a navy. A sandy beach curves from headland to headland, and upon the northern promontory, six hundred feet above the bay, is perched a fort with massive walls, now used as a light-house and signal station. A jetty affords a landing-place ST. VINCENT. : 181 from the steamer, fronting which and the sea is the police station, a fine, large building of stone, the best public building in the smaller English islands. A broad street borders the bay, and two more run parallel to it farther back, until the bordering amphitheatre of hills prevents further building. Streets intersect these at right angles and end at the base line of the hills, save three or four which traverse the valleys to estates among the mountains, and two that ascend the hills and extend around either shore to windward and lee- ward. Valleys run up from the bay far into the moun- tains, and the various spurs of hills increase in height as they recede from shore, so that Kingston and its bay are half encircled by a range of hills and mountains, above and around whose summits the clouds continu- ally play. The highest peak is Morne St. Andrews; rising to the east of it, and commanding the town, is a high, steep hill known as Dorsetshire Height, crested by a ruined fort. When the Caribs, in the last century, had overrun the island to windward, they swarmed upon this hill, attacked the fort, made prisoners the garrison, and were dislodged by soldiers from the town only after a desperate fight. There are a few old cannon remaining on the heights, but dismounted and imbedded in the earth. Most of them were bought by an enterprising speculator, during the late war between North and South, and sold to one party or the other. The sunset view from here is superb. Conspicuous are the palmistes, or cabbage palms; one house is encircled by them, a white house with bright red roof; they raise themselves erect in clumps of a score 182 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. or more, in rows like white pillars with dark green caps, and stand in relief upon all the hills. A mile from town is an avenue of seventy, which, though its symmetry is marred by the loss of some by hurri- canes, is still a beautiful sight. Three miles from town, one mile from the palm avenue in Arno’s Vale, is a noted spa; from a hole six inches in diameter gushes out a volume of water impregnated with salts that give it value as a medici- nal drink. It is equal in strength and beneficial effects to any water from the spas of Europe. It is averred that the water is more strongly impregnated, and that the flow is stronger, on the coming full of the moon. Water bottled at that time will sometimes break the strongest Case. When it became known that I was to visit the far- ther coast, I was furnished with letters by proprietors to the managers of their estates in different portions of the island. These were given me mainly by Mr. Porter, part-owner of a great number of sugar-estates ; for the pleasure of whose acquaintance I was indebted to the U. S. consul, Mr. Hughes. So efficient were these letters, and so hospitable were the managers of the many estates traversed, that I made the complete circuit of the island on borrowed horses. When it is considered that sometimes my excursions were into the mountains over trails so rough that no one but a West Indian or South American would think of cross- ing them, and that I sometimes had a horse several days, the extent of their kindness may be appreciated. The coast along the entire western shore is pictu- resque in the extreme, with volcanic rocks worn into caves, beautiful bays and broad valleys. Near Cum- ST. VINCENT. 183 berland is an arched rock which bears the appellation of “ Hafey’s Breeches;” and in the valley is a huge cliff of columnar basalt, both of which are interest- ing to view. The manager of Richmond estate, Mr. Evelyn, received me kindly, and through his solicita- tions, and by the rain which fell in torrents every day, I was detained beneath his hospitable roof for nearly a week. In a small boat I visited, one day, the Falls of Balleine, which are secluded in a deep gorge, about sixty feet high, and interesting. On this trip J was favored with a spectacle rarely seen even in this land of storms. It was a waterspout which formed over against the Pitons of St. Lucia,—a bulk of black clouds like an inverted funnel, sailing beneath denser masses above. It swept along with its tip trailing just above the waves, an elongated, spiral-pointed sack, ‘until it met the sea; then the water was drawn up to it, forming a mighty pillar, spreading at base and summit, and joining black sea with inky clouds. A few moments it remained thus, then melted away, leaving only great banks of clouds, out of which came wind and rain. Seen across an angry sea, those cloud-pillars, with the picturesque Pitons as a back- ground, were most impressive. They appeared at one time as if about to sweep down upon and ingulf us. 184 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. ¢ CHAPTER XII. A CAMP IN A CRATER. THE LAST OF THE VOLCANOES. — THE SOUFRIERE OF ST. VINCENT. — THE “INVISIBLE BIRD.” — ASCENDING THE VOLCANO. — THE “DRY RIVER.” — BIRD’S-EYE VIEW OF ST. VINCENT. — THE OLD CRATER. — THE NEW CRATER. — THE LAKE IN THE BOWELS OF THE EARTH. — IN THE CAVE. — SUNSET. — PREPARING FOR THE NIGHT. — TOBY. — FIVE DAYS AND NIGHTS OF MISERY. — FAUNA OF A MOUNTAIN-TOP. — EXPLORING THE CRATER- BRIM. — YUCCAS AND WILD PINES.— TOBY IN THE CAVE’S MOUTH. — A TERROR-STRICKEN AFRICAN. — JACOB'S WELL. — SNAKES AND PITFALLS. — TOBY’S “STOCK.” — THE SOUFRIERE- BIRD. — A MYSTERIOUS SONGSTER. — UNAVAILING ATTEMPTS TO PROCURE IT.— SOUGHT FOR A CENTURY. — A DREAM.— NASAL BLASTS. — SEARCHING FOR THE BIRD.— THE CARIB BIRD-CALL. — THE CAPTURE. — A NEW BIRD. — A PLUNGE INTO DARKNESS. — SCARED BY A SNAKE.— TOBY DESPERATE. — DE- PARTURE FOR CARIB COUNTRY. T. VINCENT contains the last of the West Indian volcanoes from which the present century has witnessed destructive eruptions; the Soufriére, that towered above and overlooked the Richmond planta- tion, having, in 1812, burst upon the island with ter- rible force. This eruption, which seemed to relieve a pressure upon the earth’s crust, extending from. Caracas to the Mississippi Valley, was most disastrous in its effects, having covered the whole island with ashes, cinders, pumice, and scoriz, destroyed many di nr 4 YoLcano AND ava RIVER OF fT. VINCENT. A CAMP IN A CRATER. 185 lives and ruined several estates. It lasted three days, commencing on or near that fatal. day, in 1812, when Caracas was destroyed, and ten thousand souls per- ished in a moment of time. Ashes from this volcano descended upon Barbados, ninety-five miles to wéndward; and this fact is cited by Elisé Reclus, in “The Ocean,” to show the force of different aerial currents: “On the first day of May, 1812, when the north-east trade-wind was in all its force, enormous quantities of ashes obscured the atmosphere above the island of Barbados, and covered the ground with a thick layer. One would have sup- . posed that they came from the volcanoes of the Azores, which were to the north-east ; nevertheless they were cast up by the crater in St. Vincent, one hundred miles to the west. It is therefore certain that the debris had been hurled, by the force of the eruption, above the moving sheet of the tradé-winds into an aerial river proceeding in a contrary direction.” Since that terrible outburst the volcano has remained inactive; having done its allotted work, it rested. An eye-witness thus describes its appearance previ- ous to the eruption: “About three thousand feet above sea-level, on the south “side of the mountain, opened a circular chasm exceeding half a mile in diameter, and between four hundred and five hundred feet in depth. Exactly in the center rose a conical hill nearly three hundred feet in height, and about two hundred in diameter, richly covered and variegated with shrubs, brushwood, and vines about half-way up, and the re- mainder covered over with virgin sulphur to the top. From the fissures of the cone a thin white smoke was. constantly emitted, occasionally tinged with a slight, . 186 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. bluish flame. The precipitous sides of this magnifi- cent amphitheatre were frihged with various ever- greens and aromatic shrubs, flowers, and Alpine plants. On the north and south sides of the base of the cone were two pieces of water, one perfectly pure and tasteless, the other strongly impregnated with sul- phur and alum. This lonely and beautiful spot was rendered more enchanting by the singularly melodious notes of a bird, an inhabitant of these upper solitudes, and altogether unknown to the other parts of the island— hence called, or supposed to be, zzvzszble, as it had never been seen. “A century had now elapsed since the last convulsion of the mountain, or since any other elements had dis- turbed the serenity of this wilderness, besides those which are common to the tropical tempest. It ap- parently slumbered in primitive solitude and tran- quillity ; and from the luxuriant vegetation and growth of the forest, which covered its sides from base to sum- mit, seemed to discountenance the fact and falsify the record of the ancient volcano.” \To ascend the volcano was the object of my visit to Richmond, and also to procure that famous bird called “invisible.” For a century, the people crossing the mountains had heard this bird, for a century no one had looked upon it. No one could affirm that he had seen it. Its weird music, ascending from the fright- ful ravines on either side the narrow mountain trail, seemed to float near them, but the bird ever remained undiscovered. By a preliminary ascent I found that it would be necessary, in order to procure the bird, to spend several days on the mountain-top, as it dwelt A CAMP IN A CRATER. 1847 in deep gorges and ravines, requiring courage and patience to penetrate. At last came the perfect day, when the Soufriére emerged from the mist that had enveloped it for two weeks, and stood out clear against a sky of blue and clouds of silver gray. A glorious day was that last day in October, with its bright sun illumining the mountain, over whose crest were flitting shadows cast by fleeing clouds. The good people with whom I had rested for a week and more, added to my provisions luxuries I could not purchase, such as guava jelly, Java-plum wine, limes apd oranges, and Mr. Evelyn and his son rode with me a little way on my journey. At first the road was along the shore, beneath cliffs and groo-groo palms; we crossed a turbulent river, with wide, rocky bed, and soon came to the bed of the famous “ dry river,” — the channel worn by that resist- less flood of lava when on its way to the sea. It is two hundred yards in width, barren of vegetation for a mile from the sea, inclosed between high cliffs, clothed in verdure, hung with vines, spiny palms, tree-ferns — a wonderful hanging garden. There are three of these “dry rivers,” where the lava filled up the bed of some flowing stream, or excavated an immense furrow for itself in its descent; nothing will grow in them near the sea, though their banks are rank with vegetation. We went through a cane-field, and then over an at- tractive pasture land, leaving which I commenced the ascent. Here, at the foot-hills of the Soufriére, my friends left me, and here my friend’s mule (“ Betsey,” the best mule on the estate) manifested a desire to return also. Vigorously I applied the spur, and she 188 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. slowly ascended the winding path, over ridges covered with calumet grass, and through forest-like groups of tree-ferns and wild plantains. Having given Betsey a taste of the grass, while she was resting beneath a shade, she was prone to stop and loath to go ahead, and it was late when I reached the “ maroon tree,” half-way up the mountain-side. Over and through the broad-leaved plants darted the humming-birds — crested, violet-breast, and crim- son-throat. Most conspicuous and numerous was the latter, with back of purple-black and throat of crim- son-gold; I found him oftenest in the upper forests, in the dark recesses of untrodden glens and along the borders of the mountain path. If you hear a sharp chirp in these silent woods, or are startled by a sud- den whir, be sure it is he. Sparrows, finches, and humming-birds were in profusion ; they flew hurriedly across the space in front of the tree, and darted at once into a thicket, as though afraid in the open, but re- assured in the shade. Finally my men appeared, loudly complaining of their loads ; though I knew they had loitered and were at that moment chuckling to themselves over the man- ner in which they had “fool Massa Buckra.”