all about
twelve feet high, with small drains to carry off the rain-water. Here
the coffee is allowed to dry in the heat of the sun, and it is then
shaken into large stone mortars, where it is lightly pounded with wooden
hammers, set in motion by water power. The whole mass falls into wooden
boxes attached to a long table, at which sit the negro workers, who
separate the coffee from the husk, and put it into flat copper pans. In
these it is carefully and skilfully turned about over a slow fire, until
desiccation is complete. On the whole, says Madame Ida Pfeiffer, the
preparation of the coffee is not laborious, and the harvest much more
easily gathered than one of corn. The negro, while plucking the coffee,
stands erect, and the tree protects him from the heat of the sun. His
only danger is from poisonous snakes, and a sting from one of these is a
very rare occurrence.

Another novelty which much impressed our traveller was the sight of the
frequent burning forests. These are set on fire in order to clear the
ground for cultivation. In most cases she viewed the tremendous
spectacle from a distance; but one day she realized it in all its
details, as her road lay between a wood in flames on the one hand, and
the brushwood, crackling and seething, on the other. The space between
the double rows of fire did not exceed fifty paces in breadth, and was
completely buried in smoke. The spluttering and hissing of the fire was
distinctly audible, and through the dense mass of vapour shot upward
thick shafts and tongues of flame, while now and then the large trees
crashed to the ground, with loud reports, like those of artillery.

[A Forest of Fire: page45.jpg]

"On seeing my guide enter this fiery gulf," says our traveller, "I was, I
must confess, rather frightened;" and her dread was surely very
excusable. She plucked up courage, however, when she saw that her guide
pushed forward. On the threshold, so to speak, sat two negroes, to
indicate the safe, and, in truth, the only path. The guide, in obedience
to their warning, spurred on his mule, and, followed by Madame Pfeiffer,
galloped at full speed across the desert of fire. Flames to the right of
them, flames to the left of them, onward they dashed, and happily
effected the passage in safety.

* * * * *

Madame Pfeiffer gives a bright description of the beauties of the road as
she pushed further into the interior. Crossing a small waterfall, she
struck right