^8 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 "petite soufriere" 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." 



