ASCENT OF THE GUADELOUPE SOUFRIERB. 333 



right beneath the volcano itself, where I found a com- 

 fortable little country house, was greeted in English 

 by the proprietor, who had heard of me before, and 

 welcomed. A delightful week was passed here, for 

 my host, Monsieur Colardeau, was a graduate of Yale 

 College, and had lived in America, practicing his 

 profession of physician, for eighteen years. He was 

 a naturalist withal, and the remainder of that day was 

 devoted to the animal life of the mountains, and espe- 

 cially the birds. 



The "hurricane season," from July through Octo- 

 ber, is one of calms, tempests, and rains, and it was 

 several days before the weather cleared sufficiently 

 for me to undertake the ascent of the Soufriere. At 

 last, one night, just before the sun dipped beneath the 

 sea, the jagged outlines of the volcano showed against 

 a clear sky, and my friend predicted a fair day for 

 the morrow. At daybreak, the Indian provided by 

 my friend came for me ; not an Indian native to the 

 island, they were long since extinct, but one from the 

 far East, the land to which Columbus in his voyages 

 thought he was discovering a shorter route — an In- 

 dian under indenture, a coolie from Calcutta. He 

 brought a knapsack full of provisions which Madame 

 Colardeau had provided the night before, and he car- 

 ried upon his head my photographic apparatus, and 

 marched before me into the mists of the morning which 

 came pouring down from the mountain-tops. After 

 drinking a cup of black coffee, I seized my gun and 

 followed my guide. 



Behind the house, far up the slope, stretched a broad 

 area of coffee-trees, an inheritance, this coffee estate, 

 from the ancestors of Monsieur Colardeau, who in no 



