A YOUNG NATURALIST. 245 



a little way on the plateau. I had not gone above two or three 

 hundred yards before I called to the others to join me — for 

 the Terre, Chaude was stretched out at my feet. 



Departing day at last cast its mysterious veil over the tracts we 

 were about to traverse. Just before it became quite dark, a snow- 

 clad comer of the volcano of Orizava was seen in the distance. I 

 lifted up Lucien, and, kissing him, pointed it out, thinking on 

 the dear ones who were behind the mountain, counting the days 

 till we returned. Gringalet barked, as if claiming a caress for 

 himself, and, guided by the dog, we reached our bivouac to enjoy 

 a well-deserved repose. 



