108 THE GREY- WOLF. 



heightened and intensified by contrast. I may 

 aptly liken it, without any attempt at word-paint- 

 ing, to a stream of liquid silver flowing through a 

 channel of jet. As the rays of light mingle with 

 the spray, that hangs like a dense fog round the 

 watery column, their prismatic colours are re- 

 flected from myriads of tiny water-drops, making 

 fairy rainbows, that dance in mazy clusters from 

 the base to the summit of the fall. Not a tree 

 or shrub is anywhere visible, nothing but rock 

 and water a scene matchless in its immensity. 

 I am not so much charmed with the beauty of 

 this wild landscape, as awed and (if I may so 

 express it) absorbed and lost in wonder; its 

 sublime grandeur impresses me with a feeling 

 that it is something more than earthly. 



As I leave the fall, to retrace my steps to where 

 I have tethered my horse, a large grey wolf sits 

 eyeing me greedily. Turning from a scene that 

 made me feel as a diatom might be supposed to 

 feel in the jaws of a whale, to stand face to face 

 with a large animal, that would eat me if he 

 dared, for the moment so startled me, that I 

 hesitated whether I should avoid my foe or fire 

 at him ; the latter inclination prevailed. Drop- 

 ping on one knee, I drew a steady bead upon the 

 wolf; and ere the crack of the rifle was lost in the 



