RINGED GOWRIE. 55 



were looking as seared as if a simoom had blasted 

 them. The pastures below were destitute of herb- 

 age, but the adjacent cane-fields were sufficiently 

 green to relieve the arid aspect of the mountains, 

 and give the air of cultivation to the plain. My- 

 self and the friend with whom I travelled had 

 waited in Kingston till an afternoon shower had 

 fallen. The sun was just setting when we had 

 got within the last mile of our journey. We 

 had completely headed the extremity of the Long 

 mountain, and were quite within the plain, en- 

 circled, as it there seems, by hills and uplands. 

 The air was pleasant and fresh; — the earth sent 

 up its reeking odour, musky and strong ; — the 

 road was splashy, and here and there stood puddles 

 in the grassless savannas. Lighted by the level 

 sunbeams the whole landscape was brilliant, and 

 the masses of recent rain-clouds that were up- 

 rolled, but gathered low on the mountains before 

 us, were luminously golden and crimson. The 

 deep, desert bed of the Hope river was right in 

 our view. Here, all of a sudden, we found our- 

 selves coursing our way through a hundred of the 

 White-collared Martin, and they seemed to spread 

 all over this corner of the plain in similar numbers. 

 The extraordinary size of the birds, the easy but 

 rapid glide of their flight, just over the cane-fields 

 and savannas, not at a greater height than just 

 above our horse, when they crossed and re-crossed 

 the road, sweeping so near to us as to tempt us 

 to strike at them with the chaise-whip, were very 

 remarkable incidents in a first acquaintance with 



