106 CONTRIBUTIONS TO THE ORNITHOLOGY OF INDIA. 



debris, the kind of stuff in which one slips down two feet 

 for every three one crawls up, and amongst which every foot- 

 fall sets a rivulet of dust and fragments flowing. 



Weary work an ascent like this (especially with the ther- 

 mometer at nearly 100° at the base of the cone) always must 

 be, but one of the party, Mr. P., a thin wiry individual, whose 

 energy had never allowed superfluous flesh to accumulate on his 

 bones, was determined to be the first at the top, and made the 

 running from the very start regardless of the clouds of ashes 

 and streams of clinkers which he was inflicting on those 

 behind. 



This unseemly conduct did not approve itself to our dear 

 Paleontologist, whose outward form is as befits one who has 

 ever a hearty laugh for every misfortune, and after wiping his 

 spectacles repeatedly and mopping his face vigorously until he 

 was in full war paint, (I need not point out that perspiration 

 and impalpable red ash are admirable components for this class 

 of decoration) he was heard, uttering terrible threats in the rear 

 of shooting everybody ahead of him, if they persisted in 

 smothering him. " I do not" he exclaimed in a. voice choking 

 with emotion (or dust) " wish to kill any one, but I will never 

 die like a dog in a dust hole, because you fellows," and here a 

 moderate-sized stone hit him on the shin aud cannoned off on 

 to another of the party below who straight way sang out " Con- 

 found you Stol, why the devil don't you look out, you nearly 

 brained me." This was adding insult to injury ; it was more 

 than even our Philosopher could bear, and the remark he offered 

 in reply was one, that the recording angel found it necessary to 

 blot out with a tear. 



I never reached the top, in fact my back was still too painful 

 to allow me even to attempt the ascent ; but most of the others 

 made their way up, and at the summit found a little blocked-up 

 crater, flored with volcanic sand and ashes, some 50 or 60 feet 

 in depth and about the same diameter above. Through the sides 

 of this crater, the cracks in which are still hot, a little vapour 

 slowly steals its way, issuing here and there and gathering into a 

 little white stream, which struggles up skywards. This vapour 

 brings up with it a good deal of sulphur, most of which it 

 leaves as a lovely yellow crystal coating to the cracks from which 

 it escapes. 



It boots not now to tell of the luxurious tiffin that rewarded our 

 labours, or how as we sat beneath the two solitary umbrageous 

 trees that stand close to the landing place, the Doctor, divested 

 of his war paint, and all his wonted philosophy recovered, beamed 



