A CAMP IN A CRATER. 195 
sparrows. It evidently was not a comfortless morning 
to them. 
It required considerable time for Toby to get the 
fire under way and coffee boiled; but when we 
had drunk the coffee and munched a biscuit, and I 
had cleaned and oiled my breech-loader, and inspected 
my photographic chemicals, we left the cave for the 
opposite rim of the crater. Down the rather steep 
hill, along the winding, rocky path, we walked rapid- 
ly; I once in a while halted to have a shot at some 
bird, but not one showed itself, except a wren, that I 
shot from a mossy stump only a couple of rods from 
the path; yet Toby could not find it; indeed, as his 
first step plunged him over head in a gulch that had 
been concealed by ferns, disturbing several black 
snakes that writhed around his legs, he was so terror- 
stricken that he would not look, and eyer after he 
would only follow in my footsteps. Then we mounted 
the near peak, where no-trail led, and skirted the 
crater-brim to the northern side. We went scarcely 
three quarters of a mile, yet it took us over an hour to 
reach the farthest practicable point. 
Just there I heard the notes of the soufriére-bird, in 
a deep gorge back of the crater-rim. There were 
some pigeon-berry trees growing there, thick and 
black in the shelter of a hill, and I distinctly saw a 
black-backed bird giving utterance to wild notes. 
This was the first time I had seen the soufriére-bird ; 
indeed, I had almost come to consider it znviszble, as 
it was popularly supposed to be, for this was the third 
time I had hunted for it. In a previous ascent, for 
the purpose of reconnoissance, I had sought it vainly, 
heard it singing, apparently near me, but could not 
