ON THE WATCH. 173 



heat was overwhelming; everything presaged a storm, 

 and before long it came. The thunder pealed hoarsely 

 above our heads, beside us, and beneath our feet ; I took 

 shelter under a wide-spreading cedar, in the belief that 

 lightning would not touch a resinous tree. I had a nar- 

 row escape. The electric shaft fell within thirty paces of 

 my covert, and clove open an enormous rock. The pro- 

 found obscurity which reigned around me ; the nights of 

 crows which hovered to and fro unable to find a shelter, 

 everything combined to render the scene I am attempt- 

 ing to describe equally sublime and horrible. 



Soon large drops began to fall ; they increased in size 

 and number ; the rain fell like a deluge ; the ravines 

 roared with innumerable torrents, with foaming cascades, 

 which swept onward in their boiling floods the trunks 

 and branches of uprooted trees. The cedar which pro- 

 tected me, as it was beaten by the rain and shaken by 

 the wind, seemed to utter cries of anguish. The water 

 poured in all directions through its leafy screen. 



By degrees, however, a north wind rose, which scat- 

 tered the frowning clouds; the sun reappeared, and 

 nature gradually recovered her primitive calm. I soon 

 discovered the shepherd on the summit of one of the hil- 

 locks which surmounted the table-land, and a few seconds 

 afterwards five reports of rifles were repeated by all the 

 mountain echoes. The pastor, like a statue, held himself 

 upright on a rock ; I saw him make me a sign with his 

 hand ; my heart throbbed as if it would break ; my eyes 

 opened wide and immovable. I held my double-barrel 

 at full-cock. At length five goats darted past within 

 twenty paces ; I picked out one, and took aim ; my 

 cap missed fire. I drew the trigger of the second 



