26 WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA. 



To the northward there is a hill higher than any 

 Pace of the i n * ne Demerara; and in the south-south- 

 country. weg j. q uar t er a mountain. It is far away, 

 and appears like a bluish cloud in the horizon. There 

 is not the least opening on either side. Hills, valleys, 

 and lowlands, are all linked together by a chain 

 of forest. Ascend the highest mountain, climb the 

 loftiest tree, as far as the eye can extend, whichever 

 way it directs itself, all is luxuriant and unbroken 

 forest. 



In about nine or ten hours from this, you get to an 

 Indian habitation of three huts, on the point of an 

 island. It is said that a Dutch post once stood here. 



But there is not the smallest vestige of it remaining, 

 and, except that the trees appear younger than those on 

 the other islands, which shows that the place has been 

 cleared some time or other, there is no mark left by 

 which you can conjecture that ever this was a post. 



The many islands which you meet with 



Islands. 



in the way, enliven and change the scene, 

 by the avenues which they make, which look like the 

 mouths of other rivers, and break that long-extended 

 sameness which is seen in the Demerara. 



Proceeding onwards, you get to the falls and rapids. 



In the rainy season they are very tedious to 

 and P* 88 ? an( i often stop your course. In the 



dry season, by stepping from rock to rock, 

 the Indians soon manage to get a canoe over them. 

 But when the river is swollen, as it was in May, 1812, 

 it is then a difficult task, and often a dangerous one too. 

 At that time many of the islands were overflowed, the 

 rocks covered, and the lower branches of the trees in 

 the water. Sometimes the Indians were obliged to 



