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192 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. 
tic, and by crouching in one corner, one can avoid 
the rains from any quarter but the north-west. As the 
winds and rains, and all storms save the hurricanes 
and heavy gales — which latter are generally from the 
westward when at their worst — come from eastward, 
this cave gives protection in a majority of cases. It 
is cut out of gray rock, probably part of the moun- 
tain-side before the eruption, and the sides and frag- 
ment of roof are fringed with ferns and wild pines. 
I chose this cave as being more protected, nearer 
the windward coast, my ultimate destination, and as 
being near the only spring of fresh water on the 
mountain. 
It was five o’clock before the men cameup. Paying 
three of them, I dispatched them back to Richmond 
with the mule, and my compliments to its owner, and 
hurried on Toby to the work of preparing a camp. 
Here, itis dark before six; on the western shore 
there is little or no twilight, for the sun drops into the 
Caribbean Sea with a celerity that surprises a North- 
erner, draws a nightcap of crimson and golden clouds 
over his head, which soon turn lead-color then black, 
and the day is done, finished at once without any dally- 
ing, and the stars come out ready for business. The 
blue vault is studded with silver stars and golden 
planets gleaming like lamps; and if there is a moon, 
mountain and valley are at once flooded with pale 
light. Forcibly such a scene brings to mind those 
lines in “The Ancient Mariner ” — 
“The Sun’s rim dips; the stars rush out; 
At one stride comes the dark.” 
Toby cut wood for a fire, and soon had a good one 
roaring in the little fireplace hollowed out of the 
