motee of tbe IKfgbt 



gested a nearby conflagration. The entire autumn 

 was thus signalized; but not until the first week 

 in January, more than four months after the dis- 

 aster in the South Pacific, was the climax reached. 

 Often the night was more beautiful, if less brilliant, 

 than the sunny day. We had no red snow, but 

 rosy fields and great, white, staring stars, that in 

 the green sky had a frightened look. 



These strange twilights and pale nights were 

 due, it is said, to the dust thrown into space and 

 floating around the earth. There is no reason to 

 doubt this, and while we want no volcanoes to 

 blot out islands and sweep men by thousands into 

 eternity, we will welcome the dust they raise, if 

 raised beyond our atmosphere. This part of the 

 world is not particularly blessed ; it needs all the 

 rosy tints that it can get. 



My best remembered walk, those winter nights, 

 was early in January, 1884. The blackness of 

 night was overhead, but its gloom was dispelled 

 by the brightness of many stars. In the west, all 

 was rosy, and the east claimed equal splendor, 

 with its brilliant green. The fringe of the black 

 curtain did not reach the earth, but moved with 

 me as I walked, ever directly above, always threat- 

 ening to enwrap the world, but held back until 

 after midnight by the glowing glories of the hori- 

 zon. It was indeed a most strange time ; and it 

 bewildered every bird of the day as greatly as it 

 did the night- wandering owls. Wild life was all 

 4 



