JUNE. 67 



passes, though they die of hunger. Notwith- 

 standing, I had contrived in the early part of 

 the day to take two brace ; three of the fish 

 were very fine. I called at this little inn about 

 noon, very fagged, very hot, and much dis- 

 appointed at not having caught more on ap- 

 parently so fine a day. I feared it was thunder, 

 and a short time proved my anticipation to be 

 correct. The sky blackened, and the storm, 

 like a mighty giant, came growling o'er the 

 earth, threatening all nature with impending 

 ruin. The birds were silent as the night ; the 

 affrighted cattle hastened to each tree, or shed, 

 that seemed to offer shelter; the shepherd's dog 

 hung down his tail, and, with a head bent low, 

 crouched to his well known master ; the vivid 

 lightning flashed, and seemed as 'twere to scan 

 each secret haunt of those that vainly hoped to 

 escape its vigilance ; the rain, as it advanced, 

 in torrents pour'd ; the river foamed with 

 fear, and all the horrors of its awful majesty 

 commingled to impress imperious man with 



