56 SIR VICTOR BROOKE CHAP. 



her own fair hand. Yes, this must be the case, thought 

 I, as I heard the hum of myriads of wings ; these, no 

 doubt, are her fairy messengers sent to summon me 

 to her gentle presence. But no, I was too soon un- 

 deceived ; a sharp pain upon my unromantically warm 

 forehead quickly brought me to my senses, and upon 

 opening my eyes, the first thing that met their hazy 

 glance was a great, long-legged mosquito very busy on 

 the bridge of my nose. No doubt the poor fellow, who 

 still stuck to the old system of doctoring, thought he 

 was doing a kind act in thus restoring my slightly 

 scattered senses ; if so, the beauty of the proverb, ' Virtue 

 is her own reward,' must have struck him forcibly in all 

 senses of the word, as my finger descended upon his 

 devoted head. Upon sitting up and rubbing my eyes 

 I soon found an explanation to the sounds I had 

 heard. Hundreds of mosquitoes surrounded me, and I 

 have no doubt it was the buzzing of their wings, which, 

 though not a welcome, is by no means an unmusical 

 sound, that seemed to my overstrained nerves like 

 sounds of music ; it was not a time to indulge in such 

 fancies I must make up my mind what to do. The 

 thing to be settled was, which shall I do ? Give up the 

 Vaugacullen and set off to find my way home which 

 I knew would prove a long job, or still persist in trying 

 to make good my object? After having again resorted 

 to my old friend the opera-glasses, I decided on the 

 latter, at the same time making up my mind to two 

 things. First, to take care and not get myself into 

 such a mess again as I had just escaped from ; and 

 secondly, never to attempt alone to ascend a bad 

 mountain again. Had I had a trustworthy companion 

 with me, nearly all danger might have been removed 

 by alternately holding a rope while the dangerous 

 places were being passed. My best way lay up a great 



