9C THE TROPICAL WOELI). 



of scenery, act vigorously when excited by the capability of 

 embracing each detail. To the solitary wayfarer there is an 

 interest in the wilderness unknown to the Alpine glacier and 

 even to the rolling prairie, the effect of continued excitement 

 on the mind, stimulating its powers to their pitch. Above, a 

 sky, terrible in its stainless beauty, and the splendour of a 

 pitiless blinding glare ; around you, drifted sand-heaps upon 

 which each puff of wind leaves its own trace in solid waves ; 

 naked rocks, the very skeletons of mountains, and hard un- 

 broken plains, over which he who rides is spurred by the idea 

 that the bursting of a water-bag or the pricking of a camel's 

 hoof would be certain death of torture — a haggard land infested 

 by wild beasts and wilder men — a region whose very fountains 

 seem to murmur the warning words ' Drink and away.' What 

 can apparently be more devoid of every charm, and yet in none 

 of her aspects is Nature more fascinating and sublime. Man's 

 heart bounds in his breast at the thought of measuring his 

 puny force with the desert's might, and of emerging triumphant 

 from the trial — and this sense of danger never absent invests 

 the scene of travel with an interest not its own. 



Thus, in spite of all he may have endured, the traveller that 

 has once crossed the desert will ever after remember it with 

 regret, and long for the renewal of its deep emotions. For the 

 life of the Sahara resembles that of the ocean. During a 

 continuance of bad weather or a calm the mariner may vow to 

 forsake the sea for ever, but he has scarcely landed when his 

 affection revives and he longs for the sea again. 



In summer when the sun pours his vertical rays over the 

 arid waste the desert is one vast furnace ; but in the temperate 

 season, its pleasures well repay the wanderer for many a peril or 

 hardship. In this pure dry atmosphere his health improves, 

 and with his health the tone and vigour of his mind. Though 

 his mouth glows and his skin is parched — yet he feels no lan- 

 guor, the effect of humid heat ; his lungs are lightened, his 

 sight brightens, his memory recovers its strength, his spirits 

 become exuberant, his fancy and imagination are powerfully 

 aroused — and the wildness and sublimity of the scenes around 

 him stir up all the energies of his soul — whether for exertion, 

 danger, or strife. His senses are quickened ; they require no 

 stimulant but air and exercise — in the desert spirituous 



