AUDUBON—THE HUNTER-NATURALIST. 89 
stones, and the eagle whetted its hooked beak upon the crag- 
points ; or, beneath the profound shadows of primeval forests, 
where the few sunbeams that straggled through at noonday, 
looked like gold dust scattered over the black earth—dcown 
the destructive flood of mighty rivers, or beside crystal lakes 
set in a columnar rim of giant cypresses ; on the sky-bounded 
ocean-heaved prairies, or where the green and glinting ice- 
bergs thundered crashingly against the hoar cliffs “ of fretted 
Labrador,” or the “tropic gulf” hurled at the low “ Keys”’ its 
foaming mountains—through, amidst, and over all, his daunt- 
less spirit was passing, led always by the winnowing sound 
of wings. 
What a poetical enchantment there was to me in such a 
life! What sights of awe and of beauty he must see. What 
images of touching truth—of odd, peculiar humors he must 
have stored. And that magical power he was said to possess, 
to tame in colors the very waves upon the leap, and the arrowy 
Albatross upon-the plunge into its beaded crest ! 
All these were so surprising and miraculous to me, that I 
wondered, in my simplicity, whether such devotion was not 
sinful, and such surpassing works would not bring upon their 
author persecution and imprisonment for necromancy, as the 
story books told had been the case of old. 
It seemed to me too much bliss and too many gifts for a 
single mortal to enjoy! I felt, not envious; but a deep emu- 
lation was stirred within me. I vowed, in my inmost heart, 
that I would first sce all those things for myself, with my own 
eyes; where and as he had seen them—out upon the broad 
face of the extended world,—and then I could look upon his 
work and know, with an appreciative knowledge, whether he 
had wrought these miracles or not. 
This resolve at once gave tone to my after life. Many a 
‘tie was rent, and much agony endured by my friends, when I 
became an unrecking wanderer through wild and distant 
regions. The uttermost arms of our tremendous svaward 
