294 PRAIRIE AND FOREST. 
the prospect. The welcome word to let go the anchor soon 
rang forth, and the emblem of faith took hold on firm sand 
at four fathoms. 
In discussing our early dinner the captain informed me 
that he intended going ashore to seek out a suitable place 
to strand his craft, and that I might as well accompany 
him and explore to the westward, for a stream was marked 
on his chart which could not be over a few miles from our 
anchorage. Soon we trod terra firma, and while MacGre- 
gor remained, I started, double-barrel in hand, on a recon- 
naissance, with light steps and lighter heart. The soil was 
thin and unproductive, bearing nothing but stunted brush, 
excepting in the ravines and hollows, sheltered from the 
prevailing winds; here a dwarf deformed pine or stunted 
larch would rear its diminutive head, or an antiquated 
birch, covered with its hoary bark, hang precarious from a 
jutting rock. Intense solitude reigned around, and naught 
broke the stillness of the landscape save the persevering 
wicked hum of the blood-thirsty mosquito. With buoyant 
hopes I walked on, and just as I began to think I had trav- 
ersed quite two miles, I suddenly came upon the margin of 
a bright, pure river, about seventy yards wide, running in a 
continuous rapid stream toward the sea. Mungo Park’s 
first view of the Niger, or Speke and Grant’s first sight of 
the upper waters of the Nile, can scarce have afforded more 
satisfaction to those illustrious travelers than I experienced 
on this occasion. Several seals were fishing in the current, 
and their disregard of my presence convinced me that their 
acquaintance with the lords of creation had been very lim- 
ited. Several families of wild duck were conspicuous, while 
salmon and sea-trout broke water wherever the stream was 
undisturbed by the unwelcome seals. Reader, have you 
ever been at the mouth of a river, and witnessed how rap- 
idly the arrival of a seal in its estuary is transmitted to the 
