26 
EARLY REMINISCENCES 
Indian Camp at Blackfoot-Crossing as I was starting for a walk 
over the prairie with my friend Mr. William Barnard, a young 
brave, “ Yellow Horse,” ran up and excitedly tried to stop us. He 
was eloquent in the sonorous Blackfoot tongue, but for some time 
failed to make himself understood. At first I thought he was 
anxious to tell us not to go near the burial place of his tribe—if 
exposure of the dead may be termed burial. At last a sudden 
thought struck me; there were some ominous black clouds in the sky, 
nevertheless I thought it would not rain. Accordingly I made the 
sign for rain commonly used by the deaf and dumb in England 
followed by the Blackfoot negative sign, which I happened to know. 
Our friend Yellow Horse at once understood, smiled, indicated his 
disagreement, and let us pass on. We were right, the untutored 
savage wrong, it did not rain. The signs used were (1) pointing to 
the sky with fore-finger = weather, (2) a quick double shake of the 
fingers = rain, (3) the action of tossing a thing away with the right 
hand, as if worthless = negative. 
A visit to Tenerife in 1887, and subsequent visits to Madeira 
and to Vesuvius, called my attention to volcanic phenomena. I 
reprint here an account of a winter ascent of the celebrated Peak, 
written at the request of Mr. Latimer (of the Western Daily 
Mercury ), who was in the island at the same time as our party. On 
the lower parts of the island I saw for the first time alive Pyrameis 
indica, Herbst, and Deiopeia pulchella , Linn.—insects I was destined 
to see again far, far away. A note published at the time is placed 
at the end of this chapter. On the slopes of the Peak I saw many 
large beetles, sluggish black apterous creatures (Tenebrionidae; 
f Blaps, or ? Pimelia). These, old Dr. Crotch told me, were benefited 
by the absence of wings, since it saved them from the risk of being 
blown away to sea. From the parochial point of view of a Canarian 
naturalist the theory was plausible enough, but how does it apply to 
closely allied insects on the Sahara, or on the Libyan desert ? 
Meanwhile, in 1879, I had bought a house at Mortehoe, North 
Devon, and from that time spent some portion of every year there. 
It was but natural that moving into a new locality aroused entomo¬ 
logical thoughts, and I took to noting in my interleaved copy of 
“ The Manual,” such species as I from time to time came across. 
Yet I did no collecting on my own account, though usually carrying 
a net and a few pill-boxes. When, however, a Buckmaster, an 
Image, an Onslow, or more frequently a Dixey favoured me with his 
society, I rejoiced to have an excuse to sally forth at night with 
lantern and sugar-pot. Occasionally the Red Valerian ( Centranthus 
