File:Two bird-lovers in Mexico (1905) (14564731159).jpg

Identifier: twobirdloversinm00beeb (find matches)
Title: Two bird-lovers in Mexico
Year: 1905 (1900s)
Authors: Beebe, William, 1877-1962
Subjects: Natural history -- Mexico Birds -- Mexico
Publisher: London, A. Constable & company, ltd. Boston and New York, Houghton, Mifflin and company
Contributing Library: American Museum of Natural History Library
Digitizing Sponsor: Biodiversity Heritage Library

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ioht of the livino- volcano andthe thin star-gleams from Orion and Leo overhead, thegradual changes are no less impressive. The red becomes rose; the rose salmon ; then onlyan evanescent yellow tinge remains. Finally, thesunset gone, the great mountain draws a cloak ofsteaming mist about its jagged shoulders, and, witha low, hollow rumbling, settles into the quiet of night,reflecting indistinctly the hue of dead lava, whichit assumes when the world is dark. The clothingof pines about the lower slope seems to hug moretightly to their scanty-earthed root-hold. At oneside a fresh, seared line shows where a small craterhas recently opened and consumed the upper lineof trees, — tlie trunks and roots melting to nothingbefore the terrible outpouring. Actual molten lavaseldom escapes from the lofty crater, hot ashes andstones being the most common form of erujjtive ma-terial. The mood of the mountain soon changes, the groundquivers beneath our horses hoofs, the trees rustle their «4 3o4 -^
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::::::::3k: THE VOLCANO BY MOONLIGHT ae:::::::: leaves while there is yet no Avind, a rumble comes toour ears, deeper than the roar of the sea, more solemnthan the reverberating groan of thunder. Then thefumes about the mountain lift and drift apart, andthere, clear and distinct against the black of the sky,we see the play and quiver of the fitful flames. A stoicindeed must he be, who is not deeply moved by sucha sight; the ancient peak, so cold, so dead, and yet atcentre so vibrant with the everlasting fires of earth.It is the most awe-inspiring — the most beautiful sightin the world. We advanced at a snails pace in the darkness,letting the sure-footed pack-animals lead the wav. Atthe very brink of the great Barranca Vueltran is acrumbling wayside corral, wliere pack-trains, ladenwith sugar and cocoanuts, stop for the night. Thiswayside house goes by the odd name of Conejo —the rabbit. Here we unsaddled and waited for themoon to rise, before descending into the dark gorge. After

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