212 A NATURALIST'S WANDERINGS 



ceeded, however, in obtaining data which enabled me to 

 calculate the elevation to be 10,o62 feet. 



I walked round the greater part of the ring of the crater, 

 searching under the stones and among the shrubs for what 

 signs of life there might be, pausing every now and then to 

 view the extended stretch of country spread out beneath. On 

 the margin of the crater a butterfly, like our little Heaths, 

 disported itself ; but it always eluded my net by simply flitting 

 over the edge; and among the Ericaceous shrubs a minute 

 moth {? Diopoea), which seems able to maintain well existence, 

 although it cannot leave its foothold on the shrubs without 

 being dashed to the ground by the strong winds perpetually 

 prevailing there ; a few small CaraJicZ* beneath the stones, and 

 other minute species swept from the bushes, represented the 

 coleopterous life. Little flocks of the small green Flower- 

 pecker {Zostsrops) were the only birds seen or heard at the 

 summit ; but several others were obtained in the more protected 

 Sawah, among them the Himalayan Lusciniola fuliginiventris. 



As the sun began to decline the temperature decreased 

 rapidly, warning us to prepare for a cold night. After I had 

 put on triple suits of clothes, which made me feel no more 

 than comfortable, I set about directing the preparation of a 

 sheltered camp for the porters and other natives, who, unless 

 ordered would take no care to protect themselves against 

 the cold which at high elevations is so very frequently fatal 

 to them. At sunset the temperature fell to 472° F. The 

 night was perfectly clear, and the stars seemed to shine with 

 a brilliancy almost equal to that of our own frosty skies, 

 and to my eye certainly more clearly than I had ever seen 

 them from the tropical plains. When at 4 o'clock next 

 morning I went out into the Sawah, though the thermometer 

 registered 47° F. (the lowest reading of the night was 42°) the 

 air, which was perfectly still — its silence indeed almost over- 

 whelming — felt absolutely free from rawness in marked con- 

 trast to what I had experienced at sunset under almost the 

 same reading of the thermometer. 



After a cup of hot coffee — at least as hot as it could be had at 

 an elevation of 9900 feet, that is to say, not much above 194^^ F., 

 we started for the summit of the cone to see the sun rise, 

 under the guidance of one of the chiefs who had accompanied 



