of an Orchid Hunter. 31 



intended for other purposes pierced the stems of the 

 palms and disfigured them with many ugly marks. 

 For those who care to see the country, a well-made 

 line of railway runs from the port to the town of 

 Valencia ; or, better still, take a horse and ride to the 

 nearest village on the hills, a journey of about three 

 hours, where the beautiful scenery and rich vegetation 

 of the wild, uncultivated forest amply repay the exer- 

 tion. As the Phantom was lying in port for the night, 

 within a short distance of the fort, those who passed 

 the time on board were treated to a peculiar concert, 

 at first novel enough, but eventually disagreeably 

 monotonous, in the fort, now used as a prison. There 

 are something like three hundred unfortunates who, 

 for the time being, are deprived of the privilege to 

 roam the wild hills of Venezuela. They are guarded 

 by a dozen sentinels, at equal distance from each other 

 around the fort. It seems to be the duty of each one 

 of these to cry out, at the top of his voice, the two 

 Spanish words, " Centinela, alerta ! " every half-hour of 

 the night from sunset to daylight, leaving an interval 

 of two or three minutes between each one, beginning 

 with the first man and continuing until the circuit of 

 the fort is made. Perhaps the most amusing part of 

 the system is the difference in the tone of the various 

 voices. The first one will roar out the password in 

 deep, sonorous tones. No sooner has this died away 



