I£2 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. 



tic, and by crouching in one corner, one can avoid 

 the rains from any quarter but the north-west. As the 

 winds and rains, and all storms save the hurricanes 

 and heavy gales — which latter are generally from the 

 westward when at their worst — come from eastward, 

 this cave gives protection in a majority of cases. It 

 is cut out of gray rock, probably part of the moun- 

 tain-side before the eruption, and the sides and frag- 

 ment of roof are fringed with ferns and wild pines. 

 I chose this cave as being more protected, nearer 

 the windward coast, my ultimate destination, and as 

 being near the only spring of fresh water on the 

 mountain. 



It was five o'clock before the men came up. Paying 

 three of them, I dispatched them back to Richmond 

 with the mule, and my compliments to its owner, and 

 hurried on Toby to the work of preparing a camp. 



Here, it is dark before six ; on the western shore 

 there is little or no twilight, for the sun drops into the 

 Caribbean Sea with a celerity that surprises a North- 

 erner, draws a nightcap of crimson and golden clouds 

 over his head, which soon turn lead-color then black, 

 and the day is done, finished at once without any dally- 

 ing, and the stars come out ready for business. The 

 blue vault is studded with silver stars and golden 

 planets gleaming like lamps ; and if there is a moon, 

 mountain and valley are at once flooded with pale 

 light. Forcibly such a scene brings to mind those 

 lines in "The Ancient Mariner " — 



" The Sun's rim dips ; the stars rush out ; 

 At one stride comes the dark." 



Toby cut wood for a fire, and soon had a good one 

 roaring in the little fireplace hollowed out of the 



