16 



SUMMER 



The draft pulled hard about the openings among 

 the rock-piles, but hardest up a flue, or chimney, that 



was left in the edge of the 

 crater-rim where parts of 

 the rock had 

 fallen away. 



As we lay at 

 the side of this 

 flue, we soon dis- 

 covered that but- 

 terflies were hov- 

 ering about us; 

 no, not hovering, 

 but flying swiftly 

 up between the 

 rocks from some- 

 where down the 

 flue. I could 

 scarcely believe my 

 eyes. What could 

 any living thing be 

 doing here? and 

 of all things, butter- 

 flies ? This was three or four 

 thousand feet above the last ves- 

 tige of vegetation, a mere point 

 of volcanic rock (the jagged edge-piece of an old 

 crater) wrapped in eternal ice and snow, with sul- 

 phurous gases pouring over it, and across it blowing 



