THE THRESHOLD OF THE GODS. 85 



peculiar tone of a bird's voice ; any, even the 

 least noteworthy thing, would hint to him of 

 the future. He would find himself trying his 

 fortune, so to speak, by little tests put in an 

 almost involuntary and wholly whimsical way, 

 to accidents and circumstances as they would 

 come of things as trivial as the mere breaking 

 of a twig or blowing away of a flower petal. 

 He related, with minute details, how once an 

 emerald-green, peculiarly brilliant scarabaeus 

 kept itself by short, sudden flights, just ahead 

 of him in a woodland path, and how after he 

 had followed it some distance, wondering 

 what it was leading him to, he came upon a 

 huge rattle-snake, coiled ready for a spring. 

 The beetle had saved the life of a great states- 

 man and a true man ! 



I could not console myself with the fancy 

 that the kingfisher would steer us safely 

 through the rapids ; for his voice was insincere, 

 and his very movements would forcibly suggest 

 sinister things. Such is human perversity, 

 moreover, that I preferred the evil interpreta- 

 tion. I actually found myself gloating over 

 the anticipation of the halcyon's successful 

 stratagem. I even smiled as I saw, in fancy, 

 our boat dissolve into fibres and ourselves go 

 whirling through awful vortices mangled and 

 dead ! 



Nevertheless, I noted everything we passed, 

 and fixed in my memory with the power of a 

 trained concentration the changes in the 

 landscape bordering the stream. These 

 changes were constant, blending into each 

 other like colors on the artist's canvas. I im- 

 agined that the trees and shrubs and ferns, 

 and the aquatic grasses into which the mar 



