NATURAL HISTORY SOCIETY OF GLASGOW. 139 



in tlie clear, open air; and if so, only during a short flight 

 from one clump of forest trees to another. 



The volcano of Chiriqui is about 11,500 feet in height, and 

 forms a very conspicuous object in the landscape. It stands out 

 somewhat apart from the bulk of the Cordilleras. At the time 

 of the conquest, there is some tradition about its being in a state 

 of activity, but at present all appearances of activity have ceased. 

 The distance from David to its base is about twenty miles. With 

 a guide and a horse, the journey can be very comfortably made. 

 You pass the night, if you choose, at a cattle farm, about half-way, 

 where you will be treated to jerked beef, maize bread, milk, and 

 sugar-cane. A few hours' journey next morning will take you up 

 to another cattle farm, in a line with the base of the volcano. The 

 plain gradually narrows as you ascend, and is bounded on each 

 hand by a river, whose bed has been worn many fathoms deep. At 

 last these two rivers come so near as to be within a hundred yards 

 of each other. Now covered with long grass, and honeycombed 

 rocks, the plain still ascends, and disappears at last behind the 

 volcano, to be lost in the range of Cordilleras. From the plains, 

 at a mean temperature of 80° Fahr., you find the air and water at 

 about 56°, so that in the miserable cane hut of the cattle herd you 

 would pass a bad night without a couple of blankets. In the short 

 twilight come the lowings of the cattle, and the cries of the goat- 

 suckers. Once dark, the air around seems alive with the chirps of 

 innumerable insects, which seem to make audible, as it were, the 

 loneliness of a great mountain region. Just before sunrise, our 

 guide called out, " Don't you hear the capachos (Cajnimulgi) telling 

 you it is day-light;" and really we heard the repeated calls of a 

 bird pronouncing clearly, ya-es-de-dia — ya-es-de-dia ; but, above all, 

 there was the clatter of many sounds, which we were told were 

 made by the mountain partridges or quail. The deep valleys were 

 filled with vapoury fog. When they had cleared away, the scene 

 before us was very fine. Looking towards the Pacific, the great 

 sea occupied nearly two-thirds of the horizon, sweeping away from 

 Golfo Dulce and Punta Burica, on our right, towards the lands of 

 the next province of Veraguas. The vast plains which intervened 

 between us and the sea were mottled by large patches of meadow, 

 and dark lines of forest. Having breakfasted on venison and 

 roasted plantains, we travelled higher up, and soon came to the 

 forest of oak trees which skirted the base of the volcano. The 



