WEAVER-BIRDS. 1 45 



Within a quarter of a mile was a tiny waterfall, de- 

 scending about fifty feet into a dark, sombre pool, 

 the surface of which was, in many places, touched 

 with the boughs of water-loving trees. Those limbs 

 that did not descend so far had, at their termina- 

 tions, the nests of numerous weaver birds, that 

 swayed to and fro with every movement of the at- 

 mosphere. At present this is a well-conducted burn, 

 but after a tropical downfall of rain, or during the 

 wet season, I could imagine it one of the most 

 turbulent of watercourses. Beyond this channel 

 stretched many an undulating swell of verdant green, 

 gradually decreasing in height till it reached the 

 woodland, which, in many a varied hue and colour, 

 was lost to sight in the far, far distance, only to be 

 terminated by the sand doones or mangrove-fringed, 

 fever-exhaling swamps that border the Indian 

 Ocean. I was alone, but not lonely ; still I could 

 imagine what a pleasure it would be, if it were pos- 

 sible, to take a flight due eastward and light on some 

 well-found steamboat, bound for the Mauritius or 

 India, round the Cape of Good Hope. 



Rousing myself from this dream of imagination 

 and impossibilities, I took my glass and brought it 

 to bear upon the game. They were already moving 

 towards me, heedlessly and carelessly, it is true, still 

 there was an indication in their manner as if they 

 smelt danger in the far distance. I could scarcely 

 believe that Sunday had so rapidly got beyond the 



