of an Orchid Hunter. j$ 



thunder began to roll through the sky, while the black 

 clouds, illuminated with bright streaks of liefhtnine, 

 warned us that a storm was approaching. We still 

 kept on our way, in hopes of reaching the hut, but in 

 vain ; quickly drops began to fall, and then the fearful 

 torrent which followed would make one believe that 

 a cataract had broken loose over our heads. The 

 scanty shreds of clothing which each one wore were 

 soon soaked, my top-boots as quickly filled and the 

 water ran over the tops, while the track became a 

 stream. Everything which we carried became run- 

 ning with water. The light pith with which the 

 natives so easily produce fire, together with the 

 matches I had, were equally rendered useless. We 

 were exhausted with the fatigue of the day's march, 

 and were without fire or provisions, and the violence 

 of the storm rendered it almost impossible to construct 

 even a temporary shelter. Besides, without this, to 

 stop short of the hut was to hazard our lives. The 

 two natives behaved admirably, going first, scrambling 

 through the tangled brushwood, the track being only 

 discernible at intervals when the brilliant lightning 

 lit up the gloomy surroundings. About two hours 

 after the storm broke upon us, impelled by sheer 

 desperation, we arrived at the hut — a tumble-down 

 shed, as may be supposed, with the rain coming 

 through in every part of the roof; but, to our joy, 



