so-called Mexican daisies.) They were very beautiful as they darted nervously to and fro.
     Between me & the vats were the pipes containing liquid sulphur and steam - a valve on them keep sending forth a muffled hollow sound in irregular rhythm, like the exhaust of a gas engine.
     As time went on, the foreman came to inspect my work. When I asked him if drinking water was obtainable, he led me to the spot, halfway down the length of the vats. Here the effect was weird & theatrical; underfoot the sulphur gave forth a creaking sound something like hard-packed snow on a below-zero morning. The glare of sunlight on the sulphur was blinding; the heat over-powering. The sulphur cliffs threw the normally cobalt sky into a rich velvety deep blue-violet. The faces of the Mexicans under their characteristic high rimmed straw hats were a deep coppery black. Some had on faded gray overalls which the sulphur turned to a light cobalt violet.
     The light by 2:00 was too changed to permit of further work. So I went back to the lodge. After lunch, I went on a little trip of exploration to a low woodland to the southeast.
The character of this woods was on the whole, tattered and untidy. I had the uncomfortable feeling of a room that needed redding up. There was evidence of a long dry spell, the ground littered with bark, dead branches & dried leaves. I was interested in the plant and insect life, and all of it being different than our northern varieties. The moss in the trees gave a wind or ghostly effect to the woods, and not as attractive as I