Excursion to Port Arthur . 
285 
that it refused to give fire. Quite overpowered, lie laid 
himself down and slept. He awoke chilly and torpid, again 
to sink in a state of exhaustion. In this horrifying state 
did this excellent officer witness the fall of four successive 
nights—the dawn of five successive days, without drink, 
without food, without hope. His toes had begun to mortify 
(the flesh sloughed away), and a lingering and agonizing 
death seemed at hand. Suddenly the woods echoed to the 
bugles of his anxious comrades, but their commander was 
too far gone to utter a response. It seemed a mockery—an 
oiler of life, but beyond his power of reach. His two faith¬ 
ful kangaroo dogs clung to their master’s side. He saw 
them lick the hoar from the frozen leaves, a hint whereby 
he profited, and felt in some degree revived. God at 
length was gracious; the numerous parties in quest of 
the missing Commandant drew near—the dogs sprung 
to greet them ; and, after a hundred hours of famine and 
horror, Captain Booth was snatched from death, but 
with an enfeebled frame and impaired constitution. 
Mr. Wilson, of the 96th, the officer in command at 
Eagle Hawk Neck,—a merry, good-natured, generous 
young man,—was on the look-out, and entertained us 
most hospitably at his quarters. The further*shore of 
the isthmus is washed by the mighty Pacific, which 
throws its billows into the beautiful sandy cove called 
Pirates’ Bay. In this bay portions of the cliff’s base 
assume the complexion of natural works, as remarkable 
as Staffa, or the Giant’s Causeway. This consists in 
layers of rock, in square, long, oblong, lozenge, trian¬ 
gular, and other shapes, all jointed with the most beautiful 
and perfect regularity—some bound, as it were, with an 
iron band, some perfectly smooth on the surface, some 
ridged and fluted, some rounded in the centre, with a fine 
cut-down border. Altogether it is a formation as beau¬ 
tiful as it is singular; and although dissimilar, yet, in 
