134 CROSSING THE ORANGE RIVER. 



entering a fairy-land. Throwing myself from my almost 

 enchanted horse, I stood upon the edge of the stream, to 

 drink in the splendor of the scene, and then stretched 

 myself under the cool and perfumed shade of a mimosa, 

 to luxuriate. I have travelled through many countries, but 

 never have I beheld a scene so near the Eden of the 

 imagination as the verdured banks of Orange river. 



Mr. Barrill seemed to be even more under the sweet 

 influence of the enchantment than myself. Long after I 

 had lain "down and given my mind to musing upon the 

 contrasted scenes of this life, he stood upon the edge of 

 the rippling water as if spell-bound. Then, quickly di- 

 vesting himself of his clothing, he plunged into the stream, 

 and seemed to revel in the coolness of its crystal waves. 



We had a delightful meal, and a siesta such as could 

 be enjoyed nowhere else. We then turned our attention 

 to getting across the river. The Hottentots reported the 

 stream fordable. Before attempting to cross, we were 

 occupied for upwards an of hour, in raising the goods liable 

 to be damaged by water, by means of a platform, con- 

 structed of green willow boughs, with which we filled the 

 bottom of the wagons, and then replaced the goods. 

 Entering the stream, we found the drift rather rough 

 and the wagons were jolted about in no very agreeable 

 way. We got safely through, however, and having pro- 

 ceeded about half a mile up the opposite bank, encamped 



