espied a flit-gun- so I thru (sic) off the netting, sprayed copiously around, and finally went to sleep, unmolested by mosquitos.
     Oct. 12- After breakfast, put my things in car & drive to vats. Unaccustomed to any but my own car, I find this one unwieldy, but soon get on to it. I proceed to the SW end of the vats, but the lighting is not what I thought it would be, and there is no way to keep the sun off my work. So I pack up and go to the opposite end, where I find my picture. This opening being NE the ends of the vats were already in shadow. This day of working here is like a dream. The whole side of the one vat was in full brilliant sunshine, an incredibly brilliant yellow. Blasting was constantly going on - a deep hollow muffled roar, and a great cloud of powdered sulphur (sometimes the wind blew it over me and my eyes smarted) As often happens with a new experience, there was about this a feeling that long ago I had seen something like this, something about men working on the side of a hot white dusty hill-side. Mexicans are employed for this labor, and against the brilliant sulphur they looked almost black. The heat was very intense; to keep cool I had rolled up my sleeves, until all at once I realized I was sunburnt. Behind me was a ditch, with running water, fringed with tall weeds & low growing shrubs. Here there were several brilliant burnt orange butterflies (of the exact shade of the