IN THE LAND OF THE BORA. 141 



was bad going. I was just thinking so, when 

 some juniper bushes forced me to pass along 

 the very edge of a cliff. I had taken hold of a 

 pointed rock, intending to pass outside it, when 

 the volcanic stuff broke off in my hand, and down 

 I went backwards. I suppose, from the score 

 of cuts all over my hands, that I broke my fall 

 a little by clutching at the rocks as I went down. 

 I remember trying to save my gun, and in this 

 I was fairly successful. Now that I know how 

 seriously I was knocked about, I am surprised 

 to remember how quickly I staggered to my feet 

 again at the bottom of the fifteen or seventeen 

 feet cliff. I felt very sick and queer, but I soon 

 realized that no bones were broken.* The most 

 painful injury was a bruised cut, through coat 

 and breeches, on the right hip, and, in addition 

 to this and the cuts on my hands, both knees 

 were badly knocked about, my elbow cut and 

 bruised, and my ankle twisted. Altogether it was 

 a " useful " tumble. Presently I caught sight of 

 the Morlak, signalled him, and limped back to 

 the canoe. 



The moral of my exploit is twofold — firstly, 

 not to trust to these volcanic rocks, either as foot 

 or hand hold, especially when they are sharp, thin 

 points. I ought to have been on my guard, as 



* As a matter of fact, my left knee-cap was split, but this I 

 did not know for a long time. 



