84 B Y- WA ys AND BIRD-NO TES. 



cane, only now and then, to push us away 

 from a dangerous breaker. The day, which 

 had been a singularly fine one, was now fast 

 drawing to its close, the sun having fallen be- 

 hind the ridge, and a soft bloom hung directly 

 over us a shadow overtopped by the vast 

 reaches of yellow sunshine. Our flight, how- 

 ever, would be short aad the rapids would 

 swallow us, or happily we would swing round 

 the mountain's wall and slip clown the gentler 

 current beyond to the guide's cabin, before the 

 coming of twilight, possibly before sunset. 



The guide had described to me, in his 

 grimly laconic way, how he had frequently 

 passed these rapids for the mere excitement 

 of the adventure. I was the first man he had 

 ever led into this cove and he was sure that 

 no human being, himself excepted, had ever 

 before set foot here. This communication 

 was sufficient of itself to brace me beyond any 

 fear, even if I had been a most nervous man, 

 instead of a resolute naturalist used to danger. 

 Therefore I looked forward to the catastrophe 

 of this little drama with a calm mind and even 

 pulse, toying, meanwhile, with the curious 

 fancy that the halcyon was luring us on to de- 

 struction. 



I was once talking with a great man, whose 

 profound knowledge and wise judgment would 

 seem to preclude trivial fancies from his mind, 

 and was surprised at hearing him tell how 

 often, in his moments of solitude, his imagina- 

 tion or fancy would fasten upon some insignifi- 

 cant thing as ominous or prophetic. A gay 

 beetle dancing in. the sunlight before him ; a 

 withered leaf blown across his path ; a sud- 

 denly discovered violet or flower-de-luce ; the 



