1894
April  7  
Trinidad, B.W.I. 
Causa
   
A heavenly morning of the dry-season type, clear and
perfectly calm up to eight o'clock after which the
trade wind rose bringing clouds and later in the day
some  brisk storms.

  It was my last morning at Causa. Bickfold and I
rose, as usual at day break and had a plunge in
the deliciously cool and perfectly transparent water of
the little pool below the house when the quick little    
sand--colored fishes sported about us and ran at
their bubbles like trout. Not a leaf stirred on the steep
mountainside above us. The whole valley was filled with
a strong clear light, free from glare and casting no shadows
yet bringing out every detail of the wonderful tropical
vegetation with startling distinctions. The fronds of the
palms and the great individual bowls of their broad [?]
trees were glistening with dew. The air was fresh and
invigorating yet indiscriminately soft and e[?] with
a hundred delicious [?] odors. The calls and songs
of bevies of birds rang out from far and near. Among
them I noted the wild ringing chant of Basilinturvs,
the sweet, Canary-like bird trill of the little Cog-bois, the
loud, monotonous shout of Dendronnis, the rich, whipt[?]
song of Cycloris, and the fair zeeing notes of Coeruba.
Occasionally the rich fluting of a Guin (Murula gymopthurtum)
came from a distant cocoa grove up the ravine
running near home and the song of one Robin
in cherry time. But after a little a hush fell
on the valley and scarce a bird could be heard.
It was now their feeding time