12 A FAVOURITE HUNTING-GROUND. 



but diligent research at dead low-water, in the 

 rock-pools, failed to discover the living fish ; 

 neither did the dredge ever bring one up, from 

 deep or shallow water. The empty house, in 

 this instance, was less desirable than a bad 

 tenant, as the mansion without its liege lord was 

 a useless ruin. 



Macauley's Point, a long ridge of rocks 

 running far out to sea, but bare at low-water, 

 was a favourite hunting-ground of mine, the snug 

 little rock-basins generally affording some novelty, 

 left prisoner by the receding water. An unu- 

 sually low tide disclosed a ridge of rocks I had 

 never before seen, an opportunity for explora- 

 tion not to be neglected. Clinging to the slippery 

 wrack, and scrambling down a vertical ledge, I 

 discovered a regular cave, its sides and floor 

 literally covered with the strangest collection of 

 marine wonders I had ever gazed on : 



It was a garden still beyond all price; 

 E'en yet it was a place of paradise. 



* 



Here, too, were living flowers, 



Which, like a bud compacted, 



Their purple cups contracted, 



Now, in open blossom spread, 



Stretched, like green anthers, many a seeking head. 



Others, like the broad banana growing, 



Raised their long wrinkled leaves of purple hue, 



Like streamers wide outflowing. Kchama. 



