112 CRUSOE'S ISLAND. 



The rocks were slippery and over I went, sliding 

 down a long cascade, and plunging through a screen 

 of vines into a small but deep pool, where I was com- 

 pletely submerged. The fall was a severe one, and 

 when I had got out on the rocks again I found 

 my wrist badly sprained and rapidly turning black, 

 from a blow received while trying to hold my gun 

 out of the water in the descent. Gun and cartridges 

 were soon spread out to dry ; with great difficulty I 

 divested myself of my clothing, and then sat down to 

 rest, in the condition that is supposed to have been 

 that of Adam in the garden of Eden. 



The heat had increased, notwithstanding the 

 shade, and so, as the pool had been shown large 

 enough to wet me thoroughly, I got into it again and 

 lay along the shelving rock under the water. As I 

 lay there, in great pain from my swollen wrist, but 

 not insensible to the soothing silence of the place, I 

 was startled by an abrupt whirr of wings quite near 

 my head. I was lying in a little glen, beneath the 

 tiny stream, which trickled over the rock above and 

 fell some fifteen feet into the pool. By standing up 

 I took a shower bath, making a spray by extending 

 my hand and allowing the water to fall through the 

 opened fingers. 



Above the pool grew a large tree, wreathed to its 

 topmost branches by a stout vine which was itself 

 clothed in brilliant yellow flowers. Vine and flow- 

 ers covered the trunk, running along the branches 

 and hanging in festoons from the drooping head of 

 the tree, descending to the rocks, and forming a 



