We were to start at four, and at four precisely I woke. As my friend had said, there was little to tempt me to sleep. The great drawback to the comfort of these ranchos is the quantity of dirt which continually falls out of the roof into one's eyes. Then the boards are hard of course, and of course, also, they are infested with vermin. They tell you indeed of scorpions and centipedes, of preternatural wasps, and musquitos as big as young ostriches; but I found none of these large-looming beasts of prey. Of beasts of a smaller size I did find more than plenty.
At four I was up, but my friend was very unwilling to stir. It was long before I could induce the mild voice to make itself heard in any way. At that time it was fine, but it was long before I could get the muleteer. When I had done so, and he had thrown their grass to the beasts, it began to rain—of course. "It rains like the d——" said I, very crossly. "Does it?" said the mild voice from the bed. "I am so sorry;" and in half a second he was again in the land of dreams. The doctor snored; but from the furthest remote comer I could see the eye of the doctor's wife looking out at me.
It was between six and seven when we started. At that time it was not raining, but the clouds looked as like rain as the Secretary of Legation could have desired. And the two Germans were anything but consolatory in their prophecies. "You'll not see a stick or a stone," said the architect; "you'd better stop and breakfast with us." "It is very dangerous to be wet in the mountains, very dangerous," said the doctor. "It is a bad morning, certainly," pleaded the mild voice piteously. The doctor's wife said nothing, but I could see her eyes looking out at the weather. How on earth was she to get herself dressed, it occurred to me then, if we should postpone our journey and remain there?
It ended in our starting just two hours after the prescribed time. The road up from the potrero is very steep almost the whole way to the summit, but it was not so muddy as that we had passed over on the preceding evening. For some little way there were patches of cultivation, the ground bearing sweet potatoes and Indian corn. Then we came into a tract of beautiful forest scenery. The land, though steep, was broken, and only partially covered with trees. The grass in patches was as good as in an English park, and the views through the open bits of the forest were very lovely. In four or five different places we found the ground sufficiently open for all the requirements of a picturesque country house, and no prettier site for such a house could well be found. This was by far the finest scenery that I had hitherto seen in Costa Rica; but even here there was a want of water. In ascending the mountain we saw some magnificent forest trees, generally of the kind called cotton-trees in Jamaica. There were oaks also—so called there—very nearly approaching our holm-oak in colour and foliage, but much larger than that tree is with us. They were all more or less covered with parasite plants, and those parasites certainly add greatly to the beauty of the supporting trunk.
By degrees we got into thick forest—forest I mean so thick that it affords no views. You see and feel the trees that are close to you, but see nothing else. And here the path became so steep that we were obliged to dismount and let the beasts clamber up by themselves; and the mist became very thick, so much so that we could hardly trace our path; and then the guide said that he thought he had lost his way.
"People often do come out and go back again without ever reaching the crater at all, don't they?" said the mild voice.
"Very often," said the guide.
"But we won't be such people," said I.
"Oh no!" said the mild voice. "Not if we can help it."
"And we will help it. Allons; andiamos; vamos."