Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1902-05-24

first time. We could see the eastern side.
v indward.
The Last of the Caribs.
In startling contrast to the hills around
kingstown, everything was green and beau
uful. This was the old Garth country. given
TO the pitiful remnant that survived the
countless massacres Of their fellows. and
promptly taken away again as soon as the
district was found to contain the most fer
tile land on the island.
Poor Caribs! Once prouoest and most
valorous Of all lnutan tribes. the only ma
tives To resist successfully the Spanlards'
crushing rule, now. by slow murder and by
SIN more deadly intermarriage with the
negro, reduced to a mere fragment of a
raCei
Some seventy Of pure blood hiding like
wild animals in the deep woods of pnmi-
Mica. none Of pure blood left In ST. Vincent
not many of mixed type even-now. doubt
less, no; any at all; for they lived On The
northern coast, TO-DAY a mass of glowing
lava. Truly this last disaster would seem
to he your long delayed revenge, had not
You yourselves been the chief suf,rtrs'
Down TO the coast. past the mineral spring
in Amos Vale. back again TO Richmond
in and out, up and down ambles the road TO
Soufriere, growing more and more imposing
at every step. the cloud cap on its summit
giving il a false holiness OF aspect.
Soon the real climb began, the path grow
ing steadily worse. None hut West Indian
horses could climb West Indian mountain
roads. The inexperienced traveller Shudders
at the impossible ascents. the stra Oh. DOWN
ward p,ungeS into loose stones everywhere,
he road most likely clingng to a steep
cliff, while from the saddle you car look
straight down beside you a sheer thousand
feet Bat by and by confidence In your
beasts gymn&stic powers sets IN and soon
you are urging him to cantcr down places
whore you would have dismounied ana
walked an hour before. Sometlma behind
us but more often ahead trudgsd the negro
guides bearing bundles of good weight upon
their heads. The fcats they perform are
wonderful. They make forty, fifty miles
day. up and down, with package some
times weighing a hundred pounds upon
their heads-no horses can keep up with
them. their muscles seeming To be made Of
iron.
A Wonderful Journey.
Beautiful beyond words is this path up
Soufrere-a jungle Of marvellous green fol-
age studded with gorgeous flowers, passing
through the primeval tropic forest, where
the huge trees so knit themselves together
as to resist successfully the fury of the
hurricane. The sunlight futters dimly
through a screen of green far overhead;
long snake-like hanus drop seemingly
out of emerald clouds TO the ground
hundred feet below. Orchids ana
curious parasites cling to the massive sides
OF the trees and fill the crotch Of every
limb Humming birds, like flashes OF col
ored fire. dart everywhere Huge butter
flies sea rcely less brilliant. flap slowly
back and forth with gorgeous wings so
large as seemingly to impede their speed.
Strange notes from unnamed birds break
the stiffness. Below a little stream is
chuckling to itself. 1.-the green lizards
rustic from under the horses honfs. 10
stop and peer with bright black eyes at
the intruders. And, over all. the strange,
wild scent of the jungle, the smell Of fresh,
rich earth, OF countless flowers and sweet.
spicy fruits mingling indesc:ihably with
everything. Great tree ferns. the stems
thick as young palms. spread out their
green lacewurk fifty feet above your head.
1t is all SO beautiful. a real enchanted
fairyland, Dryads and the great god Pan
himself become realities Behind each tree
you look to see A startled faun. Alas. all
this is naught but molten lava stream by
now.
And Then-La Soufriere!
Gradually the trees grow more stunted,
the tender tree ferns lie behind, the har-
der ferns take the place of the exotic un-
dergrowth, and at last-the crater Of Sou
friere 1t is two craters in reality for IN
that great eruption of lS12, when he shook
half the world with the fury Of his wrath.
a new vent opened beside the old outlet.
separated by a narrow ledge OF jagged
rock.
Quite impossible Of description is this
twin crater of Soufriere. The old mouth a
mile across and seven hundred feet deep,
lined with hardy ferns that dared to creep
down to the edge of the uncanny lake or
milk-white water that, when saw il,
was commencing already to bubble unt as!ly
with sulphurous gases. bleaching tho fol-
iage all around the edge.
The new outlet was far less impps.ng-a
tiny, black, unfathomed pool at the bot
tom like some devils inkstand. The c-ests
of both craters were Jagged and scanned
with old scars; the rocks and bare places
were colored to uncanny hues by rising
gases; while most impressive of all, the
cloud mists whirled ana tossed, and Heated
out to vanish in the sunshine.
Standing on the crater's rim the little
island seemed like a tiny emerald floating
on a vast blue sea. Nesting along the
mountains TANKS were countless little
houses. Far away a the south end lay Kings
town. Here Ober hunted with the tireless
patience of the naturalist the mysterious
Soufriere bird, never seen before by man.
though often heard. With what JOY must
he have packed the first known specimen
away in its protecting little paper cone.
Baking Cassava Cakes.
The cave in the craters rim where he
spent a week was pointed out. With much
reluctance We descended a still sleeper
path TO the northern coast. Here most of
the Carib half-breeds some 200 in number,
lived. 1t seemed general baking day. for
all were busy making cassava cakes. Most
interesting was the process. The cassava
root, not unlike our own potato, contains a
juice which is a deadly poison. So first the
tubers are grated fine, and then a cunning
ly woven tube of elastic basket-work made
on the principle of the little finger traps ia
miliar to our childhood is filled One end
is suspended, while from the other weights
are hung. AS the basket stretches out the
juice is forced from the cassava through
the open meshes In the old days this juice
was saved to poison arrow tips Now il is
carefully thrown where il can do no harm.
The still moist pulp next is dried thor
orghly and then rolled into pancakes some
two feet wide and thin as paper. which
are baked on heated stones, or, if the family
is well to do, on iron plates. One old wo-
man. hideous beyond belief. her straight
black hair hanging in tangled masses round
her, complained bitterly because, forsooth,
the cakes were rolled and there were no
hot stones.
All, Had she but known, Soon hot
stones were to rain, If from heaven. on
her, crushing her poor old body into even
more hideous form. Soon the soft white
ashes were TO fail like a winding sheet on
everything, burying forever beneath ii the
last hopes of a brighter day for the island
cursed with the voodoo spell.