THE COMING OF THE RAINS IN GUIANA. 653 



dry weather the trees became denuded for a few days, or, in the 

 case of the fiddlewood and silk cotton tree, several weeks. Those 

 trees which never become quite bare dropped leaf after leaf until 

 when the proper time came the young foliage pushed off the few 

 leaves that remained and took their place. 



Now comes the rain. The heat has been more oppressive than 

 usual, and the sun is often obscured by thick clouds. Distant 

 thunder is heard, and to the west and south the black clouds are 

 lowering. Now and again great splashes of rain fall suddenly 

 and as suddenly cease. Walking along a straight road, you see a 

 mist apparently rising half a mile away, and when you come to 

 the spot find that the rain has well soaked the road for a short 

 distance. Then you may see a similar mist over a cane field, and 

 notice that it is rolling steadily toward you. Listening, you hear 

 a clattering, as if a regiment of cavalry was galloping along the 

 road, and in a few seconds look for shelter against the big drops. 

 It comes, wets you to the skin, and passes on up or down the road, 

 leaving you very uncomfortable, but brightening up the vegeta- 

 tion and rousing the birds from their siesta. 



These are the preliminary skirmishes, as it were. The rains 

 have not yet come only their vanguard. Presently they will be 

 down in force to soak the parched earth and make every tree and 

 shrub rejoice and blossom. 



During the drought, animal life has been almost quiescent. 

 Butterflies, moths, and beetles have been dormant as chrysalids. 

 The foliage has hardened and lost its luscious taste ; it would be 

 therefore undesirable that larvae should be hatched at such a time. 

 Ants have been busy as usual, however ; their nests may be seen 

 in the dry ground everywhere. Frogs hide themselves in cracks 

 of the earth or crawl into the mud at the bottom of the almost 

 dry canals. Spiders, centipeds, scorpions, and cockroaches go 

 outside the house only to come back when the ground is sodden. 

 A few flowers come up on the roadsides as the dense thicket of 

 sour grass becomes less rampant, but toward the end of the 

 season the parapets look almost bare. 



Yesterday a heavy downpour closed the cracks in the dry 

 ground and flooded some of the ants' nests in the garden. To- 

 day a regiment of great black ants is marching up the sides of 

 the open gallery, and here and there one is running over the floor. 

 Three quarters of an inch long, these creatures look rather 

 formidable, but they are not vicious, nor is their nip painful. 

 Out in the garden, however, a swarm of red fire ants is moving 

 house, and if you happen to tread on the procession the mistake 

 is very soon brought to your notice by sundry pricks and instil- 

 lations of venom on your lower extremities. Then there are the 

 tree ants, who make little nests the size of walnuts and keep 



