LETTER XVL] 



LIVING WATERS. 



159 



looked. The glories of the tropical forest closed us in with 

 their depth, colour, and redundancy. Here the operations of 

 nature are rapid and decisive. A rainfall of eleven feet in a 

 year and a hothouse temperature force every plant into cease- 

 less activity, and make short work of decay. Leafage, blossom, 

 fruitage, are simultaneous and perennial. The river, about as 

 broad as the Cam at Cambridge, leaped along, clear like 

 amber, pausing to rest awhile in deep bright pools, where fish 

 were sporting above the golden sand, a sparkling, rushing, 

 terrorless stream, " without mysteries or agonies," broken by 

 rocks, green -with mosses and fragile ferns, and in whose un- 

 chilled waters, not more than three feet deep, wading was both 

 safe and pleasant. It was not possible to creep along its 

 margin, the forest was so dense and tangled, so we waded the 

 whole way, and wherever the water ran fiercely my unshod 

 guide helped me. One varied, glorious maze of vegetation 

 came down to it, and every green thing leant lovingly towards 

 it, or stooped to touch it, and over its whole magic length was 

 arched and interlaced the magnificent large-leaved ohia, whose 

 millions of spikes of rose-crimson blossoms lit up the whole 

 arcade, and the light of the afternoon sun slanted and trickled 

 through them, dancing in the mirthful water, turning its far- 

 down sands to gold, and brightening the many-shaded greens 

 of candlenut and breadfruit. It shone on majestic fern-trees, 

 on the fragile Poly podium tamariscimim, which clung trem- 

 blingly to the branches of the o/iza, on the beautiful lygodium, 

 which adorned the uncouth trunk of the breadfruit • on shining 

 banana leaves and glossy, trailing yams ; on gigantic lianas, 

 which, climbing to the tops of the largest trees, descended in 

 vast festoons, passing from tree to tree, and interlacing the 

 forest with a living network - and on lycopodiums of every 

 kind, from those which wrapped the rocks in feathery green to 

 others hardly distinguishable from ferns. But there were twi- 

 light depths too, where no sunlight penetrated the leafy gloom, 

 damp and cool : dreamy shades, in which the music of the 

 water was all too sweet, and the loveliness too entrancing, 

 creating that sadness, hardly " akin to pain," which is latent in 

 all intense enjoyment. Here and there a tree had fallen 

 across the river, from which grew upwards and trailed 

 downwards, fairy-like, semi-transparent mosses and ferns, all 

 glittering with moisture and sunshine, and now and then a 

 scarlet tropic bird heightened the effect by the flash of his 

 plumage. 



