WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA. Ill 



the river, impassable to the ascending canoe, and you are 

 forced to have it dragged four or five hundred yards by 

 land. 



It will take you five days, from the Indian habitation, 

 on the point of the island, to where these falls and rapids 

 terminate. 



There are no huts in the way. You must bring your 

 own cassava-bread along with you, hunt in the forest for 

 your meat, and make the night's shelter for yourself. 



Here is a noble range of hills, all covered with the finest 

 trees, rising majestically one above the other, on the 

 western bank, and presenting as rich a scene as ever the 

 eye would wish to look on. Nothing in vegetable nature 

 can be conceived more charming, grand, and luxuriant. 



How the heart rejoices in viewing this beautiful land- 

 scape ! when the sky is serene, the air cool, and the sun 

 just sunk behind the mountain's top. 



The Hayawa-tree perfumes the woods around ; pairs of 

 Scarlet Aras are continually crossing the river. The Maam 

 sends forth its plaintive note, the Wren chants its evening 

 song. The Caprimulgus wheels in busy flight around the 

 canoe, while " Whip-poor- Will " sits on the broken stump 

 near the water's edge, complaining as the shades of night 

 set in. 



A little before you pass the last of these rapids two 

 immense rocks appear, nearly on the summit of one of the 

 many hills which form this far-extending range, where it 

 begins to fall off gradually to the south. 



They look like two ancient stately towers of some 

 Gothic potentate, rearing their heads above the surround- 

 ing trees. What with their situation and their shape 

 together, they strike the beholder with an idea of anti- 

 quated grandeur which he will never forget. He may 

 travel far and near and see nothing like them. On looking 



