74 MEMOIR OF 



extent, the daily chagrin he could not help 

 feeling at not being able to find the game to 

 blood his hounds. The farmers, too, that fol- 

 lowed him, not getting their sport, would be 

 sure to express their incredulity in the very 

 existence of the animal ; and the assurance that 

 " they had never seed no sich varmint up their 

 bottoms " must have frequently grated on his 

 ears during that long and profitless walk of 

 three thousand miles. 



Still, he was walking through an Arcadia. 

 The meads, full of fiowers, rivalling "the mosaic 

 of a Swiss meadow;" the woods and slopes, wild 

 as fancy ever painted them ; the hill-tops, clad 

 with heather, bracken, and golden furze ; the 

 combes, luxuriant with a variety of ferns of 

 exquisite form and beauty, the queenly Os- 

 munda being among the number ; and, to 

 crown all, even the bogs and brooks, mantling 

 with the forget-me-not, which, by its soft, tur- 

 quoise hue, might lead one to imagine their 

 whole surface was studded with those precious 

 stones. 



Then there was the water-ousel, now dip- 

 ping, and now running in search of its food, 

 even while submerged, among the pebbles 

 and sands of the silvery streams ; and, more 

 beautiful still, the lustrous kingfisher, glancing 

 past him like, a living emerald on lightning 

 wings. 



