IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
 m 
 
 A 
 
 {./ 
 
 
 y^^s 
 
 / 
 
 ^ ii 
 
 
 u.. 
 
 %o 
 
 4c 
 
 1.0 ISia I 
 
 I.I 
 
 2.5 
 
 nf 1^ mil 2.0 
 
 1.8 
 
 
 1.25 1 1.4 
 
 1.6 
 
 
 .4 6" — 
 
 
 ► 
 
 V] 
 
 Va 
 
 7 
 
 
 /^ 
 
 '^ 
 
 '/ 
 
 Photograpliic 
 Sciences 
 
 aoii 
 
 23 WEST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 
 
 (716) 873-4503 
 
CIHM/ICMH 
 
 Microfiche 
 
 Series. 
 
 CIHM/ICMH 
 Collection de 
 microfiches. 
 
 Canadian Institute for Historical IVIicroreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques 
 
Technical and Bibliographic Not«s/Notes tachniques at bibliographiquas 
 
 Tha Institute has attempted to obtain the best 
 original copy available for filming. Features of this 
 copy which may be biblicgraphically unique, 
 which may alter any of the images in the 
 reproduction, or which may significantly change 
 the usual method of filming, are checked below. 
 
 D 
 
 D 
 
 D 
 
 Coloured covers/ 
 Couverture de couleur 
 
 I I Covers damaged/ 
 
 Couverture endommagie 
 
 Covers restored and/or laminated/ 
 Couverture restaur^ ef/ou pelliculie 
 
 Cover title missing/ 
 
 Le titre de couverture manque 
 
 Coloured maps/ 
 
 Cartes giographiques en couleur 
 
 Coloured ink (i.e. other than biue or black)/ 
 Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire) 
 
 Coloured plates and/or illustrations/ 
 Planches et/ou illustrations en couleur 
 
 Bound with other material/ 
 Reii6 avec d'autres documents 
 
 D 
 
 Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion 
 along interior margin/ 
 
 La reliure serrde peut causer de I'ombre ou de la 
 distortion le long de ia marge imerieure 
 
 Blank leaves added during restoration may 
 appear within the text. Whenever possible, these 
 have been omitted from filming/ 
 II se peut que certaines pages blanches ajoutAes 
 tors d'une restauration apparaissent dans le texte, 
 mais, lorsque cela 6tait possible, ces pages n'ont 
 pas At6 filmAes. 
 
 Additional comments:/ 
 Commentaires supplAmentaires: 
 
 L'Institut a microfilm* le meilleur exemplaire 
 qu'il lui a At* possible de se procurer. Les details 
 de cet exemplaire qui sont peut-Atre uniques du 
 point de vue bibliographique, qui peuvent modifier 
 une imiige reproduite, ou qui peuvent exiger une 
 modification dans la methods normale de filmage 
 sont indiqute ci-dessous. 
 
 Tl 
 to 
 
 D 
 D 
 D 
 
 D 
 
 D 
 D 
 D 
 □ 
 
 Coloured pages/ 
 Pages de couleur 
 
 Pages damaged/ 
 Pages endommagtes 
 
 Pages restored and/or laminated/ 
 Pages restaurtes et/ou pellicul6es 
 
 Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/ 
 Pages dicoiories, tachet^es ou ^iqutes 
 
 Pages detached/ 
 Pages d^tach^es 
 
 Showthrough/ 
 Transparence 
 
 Quality of print varies/ 
 Quality in6gale de I'impression 
 
 Includes supplementary material/ 
 Comprend du materiel supplAmentaire 
 
 Only edition available/ 
 Seule Mition disponible 
 
 Pages wholly or partially obscured by errata 
 slips, tissues, etc., have been refilmed to 
 ensure the best possible image/ 
 Les pages totalement ou partiellement 
 obscurcies par un feuillet d'errata, une pelure, 
 etc., ont M fiimies A nouveau de fa^on A 
 obtenir la meilleure image possible. 
 
 TI 
 
 P< 
 of 
 fil 
 
 Oi 
 be 
 th 
 si< 
 ot 
 fir 
 
 Si( 
 
 or 
 
 Th 
 sh 
 Til 
 w» 
 
 Ml 
 dif 
 en 
 bei 
 rig 
 rec 
 mfl 
 
 This item is filmed at the reduction ratio checked below/ 
 
 Ce document est film* au taux da reduction indiquA ci-dessous. 
 
 10X 14X 18X 22X 
 
 C 
 
 y 
 
 12X 
 
 18X 
 
 aox 
 
 26X 
 
 aox 
 
 24X 
 
 28X 
 
 32X 
 
Th« copy filmed h«r« has b««n r«produc«d thanks 
 to tha ganarotity of: 
 
 Library Division 
 
 Provincial Archives of British Columbia 
 
 Tha imagas appaaring hara ara tha bast quality 
 possibia considaring tha condition and lagibility 
 of tha original copy and in kaaping with tha 
 filming contract spacifications. 
 
 Original copias in printad papar covars ara filmed 
 beginning with the front cover and ending on 
 the last page with a printad or Illustrated impres- 
 sion, or The back cover vt.hen appropriate. All 
 other original copies are filmed beginning on the 
 first page with a printed or illustrated impres- 
 sion, and ending on the last page with a printed 
 or illustrated impression. 
 
 The last recordet' frame on each microfiche 
 shall contain ti.e stymbol — »- (meaning "CON- 
 TINUED"), or tha symbol V (meaning "END"), 
 whichever applies. 
 
 Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at 
 different reduction ratios. Those too large to be 
 entirely included in one exposure are filmed 
 beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to 
 right and top to bottom, as many frames as 
 required. The following diagrams illustrate the 
 method: 
 
 L'exemplaire film* fut reproduit grAce A la 
 g*nArosit4 da: 
 
 Library Division 
 
 Provincial Archives of British Columbia 
 
 Las Images suivantas ont Ati reproduites avac le 
 plus grend soin, compte tenu de la condition at 
 de la nettet« de l'exemplaire film*, et en 
 conformity avec les conditions du contrat de 
 fiimege. 
 
 Les exemplaires originaux dont la couverture en 
 papier est imprimis sont film^s en commen9ant 
 par le premier plat et en terminent soit par la 
 dernlAre page qui comporte une empreinte 
 d'impression ou d'illustration. soit par le second 
 plat, salon le cas. Tous las autras exemplaires 
 originaux sont filmAs en commen9ant par la 
 premiAie page qui comporte une empreinte 
 d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminent par 
 la derniAre page qui comporte une telle 
 empreinte. 
 
 Un des symboles suivants apparaitra sur la 
 dernidre image de cheque microfiche, selon le 
 cas: le symbols -♦' signifie "A SUIVRE", le 
 symbols V signifie "FIN". 
 
 Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent Atre 
 film6s A des taux de reduction diffirents. 
 LorsquG le document est trop grand pour Atre 
 reproduit en un seui clich«, il est film« A partir 
 de Tangle supArieur gauche, de gauche A droite. 
 et de haut en bas. en prenant le nombf^) 
 d'imagas nicessaire. Les diagrammes suivants 
 iilustrent la mithoda. 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
\ 
 
REMARKABLE ADVENTURES 
 
 FRO\i 
 
 REAL LIFE. 
 
 LONDON: 
 PUBLISHED Al' THE LEISURE HOUF. OFFICE .■ 
 ■ THK RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY- 
 ™ PATEItNOSTER KOW, AND 3M PICCADItLV 
 
 ™..D AT HAUAVAV W,T,0,V. AXn y.y ,„„ ,.X,k.SE,.,.«,, 
 
VlCo 
 
 9 'o 
 
 s 
 
 A 
 
 L 
 
 A 
 
 A 
 
 A 
 
 Ai 
 
 A 
 
 Aj 
 
 Lo 
 
 m 
 
 An 
 
 Roi 
 
 Bu] 
 
 Ax 
 
 An 
 
 A ^ 
 
 Ad^ 
 
 Exc 
 
 A I 
 
 An 
 
 Ak 
 
 Bbn] 
 
 AL 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 My AoveKtuhes mm Grisly Bear8 in Cautoksia a^d Okeoox 
 ►Stopped ox the Highway 
 
 An Adventure in China 
 
 , 
 
 Lost in the Woods .... 
 
 Adventure with Spanish Smugglers 
 
 A Lady's Adventure during an Inundation of the Rhone 
 
 A Night among Chlnese Pirates 
 
 Adventures in the Nicobar Islands 
 
 A Female Crusoe .... 
 
 An Adventi're in the Desert 
 
 Lost on the Fells 
 
 ._ 
 
 Narrow Escape from a Snake-bite 
 
 An Adventure on Beachy Head 
 
 Robbing the Dead 
 
 
 
 Buried Alive in the Snow . 
 
 An Adventure in Arran 
 
 An Awkward Ad^-enture 
 
 A Twilight Adveni-ure.-Aw Apparition Extkaordinary 
 
 Adventure a3iong the Hudson's Bay Fuu Hunters 
 
 EncouxNter with a Water Snake 
 
 A Night Adventure in Paris 
 
 An Adventure at Petra 
 
 An Adventure in Rupert's Land 
 
 Benighted on Salisbury Plain 
 
 A Leaf from a Clergyman's Journal 
 
 yAr.R 
 7 
 
 18 
 
 •23 
 
 HI 
 
 35 
 
 41 
 
 59 
 
 03 
 
 72 
 S5 
 1)2 
 95 
 
 104 
 
 IIG 
 
 125 
 
 ];{2 
 1:^9 
 
 112 
 
 150 
 
 150 
 
 165 
 
 179 
 
 188 
 
 198 
 
 ^ i vJ 
 
 $ 
 
B 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 An Advevturb i:roN Exiioon 
 
 AUVENTI KK IN TeHU .,....•• 
 
 An Am'EXTLi!E in CAiiUNGPOuD Bay ; oi!, Tuk Sruui of IjAvlndkk 
 
 An Encounter ■with a BrFFAUj 
 
 An Adventure in the Levant 
 
 An AI)^^;NTT:RE in a Pint; Wood 
 
 I?I,M[NlSCENfTiS OP THE YeLI-OW FeVEiJ AT CaRTIIAGENA 
 
 A Night 'n Tasmania , 
 
 A StUTKINQ PllOVIDKNOAi » 
 
 
 200 
 
 
 214 
 
 
 22U 
 
 
 234 
 
 
 239 
 
 
 24;» 
 
 
 2r)S 
 
 
 265 
 
 
 284 
 
 NOTE. 
 
 The papers composing this book liave appcurod in various volumes of " The Leisuub 
 Hour " and " Sunday at Home." With .; few exceptior.s, the sources of which are 
 indicated, the " Adventures" were communicated as true incidents by correspondents 
 known to the Editor. While aft vding interesting reading, especially for the young, 
 Ihey will bo found to convey useful information about many lands. Most of the 
 narratives have the higher purpose of impressing ou tho mind the reality of an over- 
 ruling Providence; and some of them present, in an attractive form, lessomi of 
 Christian faith and duty. 
 
REMARKABLE ADVENTURES FROM 
 
 REAL LIFE. 
 
 MY ADVENTURES WITH GRISLY BEARS IN CALI- 
 FORNIA AND OREGON. 
 
 The first time I e\ cr saw a grisly bear was in the British Museum. 
 Of course he was dead and stuffed, and presented the usual door- 
 mat and Duclancholy appearance peculiar to stuffed animals. I 
 was very young then, and little thought I should ever encounter 
 him in a more dangerous aspect. 
 
 Every traveller in California ]iei),rs more or less of *' grislies," 
 and many and wonderful {ire the *' stiff yarns" told by old hunters 
 and trappers up at the mines ; but I am not now going to repeat 
 vhat I have heard. T^his is a true narrative, and I purpose 
 simply to relate my own unvarnished experiences. 
 
 In Californiaj which is a strange country, one is often obliged to 
 lake to strange and unusual pursuits to earn a living. I know that 
 I had to do so. One of my occupations, during the time I dwelt 
 there, was that of a boatman in the harbour. In conjunction with 
 another young adventurer, I owned a large boat ; and when not 
 ! ngaged witli freight or passengers, we often used to take a trip 
 iK^ross the bay, some twelve miles in distance, load with timber, 
 which wo procured by felling trees in the wood that fringed the 
 shore, transport it to San Francisco, and dispose of it to the shop- 
 
ItEMAUKAI-I.E ADVENTUHES. 
 
 !| 
 
 , ! 
 
 kcopcrs llicrc. vVt that tinu} wood was th(3 only I'ut'l to bo obtained 
 ill tho city. As tlicso expeditions often consumed a couple ol' 
 days and a niglit, wc Imd constructed a nide shanty in the wood, 
 close to tho shore, under which wo sl(?pt. This shanty, or hut, 
 was formed simply of l)oughs of trees, etc., and only boasted of 
 three walls, the fourth being supplied by our fire, wliich we regu- 
 larly lighted at night and kept burning till morning. One iu'glit, 
 about nine o'clock, we were extended on our blankets in th(3 
 shanty, just on the point of dropping into that deep and drejimlesd 
 sleep Avliich labour alone earns, when our ears were suddenly 
 saluted by a deep and prolonged roar, evidently proceeding from 
 some distance in the woods. 
 
 *' That's a bear," said my mate. 
 
 " It is," said I. 
 
 With this short dialogue our conversation ceased, and my com- 
 panion turned over and seemed to go to sleep, but I could not. 
 All the terrible stories of grisly bears which I had ever heard began 
 to catalogue themselves in my imagination mt\i most unpleasant 
 Y'-n'^-^ess, and I reflected moodily on the trifling defence we could 
 c should a bear attack us. His rush would bring down the 
 walls of our poor little shanty about our ears, and our only arms 
 were two short guns and a brace of bowie knives — poor weapons 
 of defence in such u serious encounter. 
 
 Thus an hour passed away, and I lay glancing alternately at th(3 
 lire and out into the woods through the chinks of our shanty (for it 
 was a lovely moonlight night), when again presently a roar deeper, 
 and certainly nearer, rang upon the silent night air, and my com- 
 panion suddenly sat up. Like me, he had only been pretending 
 sleep, and had not cared to explain his fears. Now he spoke, and 
 said, *' Do you think it's safe here ?" 
 
 " No, I don't," I rejoined ; and, the ice being broken, we simul- 
 taneously sprang to our feet and looked around; Nothing living 
 
ADVENTUUES WITll llEAKS. 
 
 was ill siglit; but again a roar uiipleastmtly near nitido itself 
 heard to our listening ears. We took the hint, and in two minutes 
 we had packed up our traps, and were racing down to the boat, 
 some two hundred yards distant. Htistily launching her, we i)ut a 
 good hundred yards between us and the shore, and anehoi «(l. 
 Throwing ourselves under the thwart of the boat, we made oui*- 
 selves as comfortable as circnmstances would permit, and snorinaly 
 emulated the growlings of the bear, soon after we had stretched 
 ourselves on the hard planks. 
 
 We wore awakened in a few hours by a fresh alarm. All in a 
 moment, as it seemed, though it must have taken place gradually, 
 my mate rolled violently on the 'x)p of me. As, I suppose, my 
 mind had been filled all night with dreamy visions of grisly bears, 
 I concluded, on being thus abruptly awakened, that I was assaulted 
 by one of them, and instantly I grappled with my foe, who grappled 
 with me in return. It took a minute or two to satisfy each of us 
 that the hug in which we found ourselves locked was human instead 
 of ursine. With a laugh we released each other, and then dis- 
 covered the cause of the accident. The fact was, while we slept, 
 the tide had run out, and we were high and dry. Of course, as the 
 water left us, our boat heeled over, till at last she lay on her 
 side, and, as I was to leeward of my companion, he rolled down 
 upon me. With no good feelings towards the bear tribe in general, 
 we pro2)ped up our boat again to a level keel, and betx)ok ourseh es 
 once more to slumber, not awaking till the sun rose bright and 
 cheerful in the blue unclouded Califomian sky. 
 
 Such was my first distant introduction to a grisly bear. At a 
 later period, I was cruising about the Bay of San Francisco, in a 
 ship's long-boat, with three or four sailors, in search of any 
 " wreck " (or " flotsam," as our old statutes would call it), such as 
 building-piles or spars of vessels, that we might chance to come 
 across. Sometimes these expeditions were successful, at other 
 
 b2 
 
10 
 
 IJKMAIIKADLE ADVENTUliES. 
 
 times u luilure. I remeiubur once, after a sovcro easterly gale, wo 
 picked up a number of valuable articles, evidently from the ^vn!ck 
 of yoiiKj unfortunate vessel. Amongst the spoil was a cask of lime 
 juice, and another cask of preserved eggs, for which wc; obtained 
 the several prices of lifty and one hundred and thirty dollars — 
 sums which, in English money, are together equivalent to about oSl. 
 The latter may seem a large price ; but it is necessary to remem- 
 ber that at that thiie — namely, hi 1849 — provisions of all kinds 
 were fearfully expensive, especially eggs, which were very scarce. 
 
 But to continue my rarrative. I have said that we were sailing 
 about, the harboiu* in search of wreck, and, as often happened, night 
 closed upon us when we were a long way from home. I believe 
 the Bay of San Francisco is some thirty miles in length, so, 
 according to our custom, we made for the nearest land, ancliored 
 our boat, and wont ashore. In what particular portion of the bay 
 we were situated, none of us knew or cared. It seemed a some- 
 what desolate spot, as far as we could discern through the dark 
 and drear autumn night. However, our requisites for camping — 
 namely, wood and water — were easily procm'ed, and in a few 
 minutes a capital lire sent forth its cheerful blaze and genial heat. 
 Then our blankets, fryingpan, kettle, etc., were brought ashore, 
 and in a short time our preparations for supper were complete. 
 The kettle was singing on the embers, the fryingpan was splutter- 
 ing away with the rashers, and the wfive-worn wreckers were seated 
 in a row, gazing with hungry and anxious faces on the approaching 
 "feed;" when suddenly a dark and formidable-looking object 
 emerged jfrom the gloom of night in the landward dii'ection, and 
 advanced slowly towards om* fire. 
 
 " A bear, and a grisly one," shouted the American we had with 
 us, as we all started to our feet. That was enough. Sauve qui 
 pent was the order of the day. Resistance was not for a moment 
 thought of. Supper and our traps were in an instant iibaiidoned^ 
 
AUVENTUllKS SVlTli BEAlt.S. 
 
 11 
 
 and i)(3ll-mi'll wa rusliud down to tlus beucli, and Dcvor looked 
 iicliind lill W(' \v(n'(5 i'airly in tlio boat and getting tlio anchor np. 
 Tlion, what a wight greeted us ! There sat our griwly enemy on 
 Ills Iiaunclies, gazing with the greatest uonchahuK^e int(jthe glowing 
 cinbers of tlie iire — our tire — and evidently enjoying th<? pleasant 
 warmth, while we were shivering in the cold. Slowly and sailiy 
 we got up our anchor ; more slowly and more sadly still, we i)la('(Ml 
 onr oars in the rowlocks and '' gave way," in a very melancholy 
 mood ; but as our boat struck out on her coui*se, our eyes v/ero 
 still fixed on the receding shon^, where the lire still blazed 
 brightly, \\here the bear still sat on his haunches gazing into the 
 blaze, and wliere our n pper was by this time nearly ivndy for his 
 hungry maw, by us imearcm. 
 
 Now, perhaps, some g.illant vobmteer reading this, would con- 
 sid(»r tliat in this last affair, like tlie former one, the white feather 
 was shown by the wn'ter and his companions ; but our volunteer 
 would be mistaken. To cope with a grisly bear a good rifle and a 
 good rifleman are absolutely essential. The rifleman must also be 
 a first-rate hunter, accustomed to kill large game ; for the sport is 
 intensely dangerous, as it is only in one or two places that a wound 
 can be inflict(xl which would prove instantaneously mortal on this 
 toughest of monsters ; and, should the shot fail, the hunter would 
 have no time to load again ere the beast would be upon him. 
 Hardy trappers and liunters in tlie jirairie shrink alone from a 
 conflict with the grisly bear ; and the Indian brave who prevails 
 over him advances a greater step in the estimation of Indian 
 cliivaliy, than if he had taken three scalps from human foes in a 
 fair stand-up fight. 
 
 After I had been a denizen of California for some two years, 
 business compelled nic lo take my departure for the neighbouring 
 State of Oregon. When my affairs in that state were aiTanged, I 
 determined to travel back overland to San Francisco, in company 
 
12 
 
 REMAUKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 
 11 r 
 
 witli ii nuilo train proceeding there — no slight journey, as it ein- 
 briiced a distance of some thousand miles, not exactly over a mac- 
 adamized road. On the contrary, mounted on good horses, we 
 followed a slight Indian " trail," scarcely ever of more importance 
 than a sheep track, and ofttimes quite obliterated. I shall, how- 
 ever, avoid a long digression of describing how we climbed moun- 
 tains, forded rivers, and skirted precipices, and how wo juore 
 than once had perilous skirmishes with Indians. The grisly boar 
 is my theme, and it devolves upon me now simply to relate how a 
 third time I came into juxtaposition with this formidable foe. 
 
 After travelling very hard for a week' or so, we found ourselves 
 one night camped on the banlvs of the Iloque river, one of the 
 rivers of Oregon, where gold has since been discovered ; and, as our 
 cattle were rather in a poor condition, ^ve resohed to give them a 
 rest by camping all the next day. Feeling myself, in tlie course of 
 that day, inclined for a gentle ride, towards the afternoon I saddled 
 my horse, a good specimen of Indian breed, which I had bought 
 from a Pawnee chief. Taking my rifle across my saddle-bags, I set 
 oft' to see whether I could get a shot at an ellv — a species of deer 
 commonly called wapiti, which abound in that region. I rode out 
 from camp, and, after cantering some four or five miles, came to 
 the end of the little prairie on wliich ^^'e were camped, and got into 
 broken ground, well wooded, and with a thick growth of " chappa- 
 ral," that is, " underwood." 
 
 Moving along at a slow amble, and keeping a good look-out for 
 game, and also for any Im-king Indian — for we were now on hostile 
 ground — I suddenly felt my horse tremble under me, and rapidly 
 quicken liis pace to a slashing gallop. Looking to my right hand, 
 to my intense astonishment, and I may say fear, I beheld a mon- 
 sti-ous bear, evidently an old grisly, rising from liis lair beneath a 
 tree. 
 
 In a moment I knew ho would pursue me, for I had "crossed 
 
ADVENTURES WITH BEARS. 
 
 13 
 
 )a- 
 
 for 
 
 
 ale 
 
 
 ily 
 
 nd, 
 
 '^1 
 
 011- 
 
 
 lia 
 
 
 Led 
 
 his wind." This requii-es explanation ; bnt I liad often been told 
 l/V Imntors of experience that this sj)ecies of bear does not attack 
 men if they pass sideways or in liis rear, bnt shoidd t!i;'y, ou tlie 
 other hand, pass to windward, he is instantly exasi)erated and gives 
 chase. Whether this statement is fanciful or not, I am sorry to 
 say that in my case it proved too true ; for in another instant the 
 grisly seemed to have made up his mind, and was advancing 
 towards us in fiill pursuit. 
 
 Now, had I been upon the prairie, I should have cared little for 
 my foe. I knew my horse, and though he was of Indian breed, as 
 I have said before, he was remarkably fleet in his gallop ; and the 
 grisly bear, though liis speed, especially for a short time, is not to 
 be despised, is certainly no match for a fleet horse on a level ; but 
 then, in this case the brushwood was very heavy, and only to be 
 passed by a succession of small leaps, fearfully delaying at a time 
 like this, while my pursuer's heavy body crushed indifferently 
 through bush and briar. With the end of my lasso, my spur, and 
 voice, I urged on my terrified horse. The rein with Indian horses 
 is of little avail ; they do not understand the bit, and in a case of 
 emergency it is better not to make much use of it. My poor 
 horse, however, required neither of these inducements to do his 
 best. His Indian instincts had told him that a dreaded foe was at 
 hand, and nobly did he strain every nerve to save himself and his 
 rider. With one eye upon our course, I regarded at intcsrvals our 
 dreadful pursuer. Infinitely quicker than it takes to write it, I at 
 once app^'eciated the desperate nature of the situation. In the first 
 place, I saw that in our relative speed my horse was much inferior 
 to our enemy, and that he was nearing us fast, owing, as I said 
 before, to the broken ground. Unless, then, I could gain the edge 
 of the prairie in a comparatively short period, a death stniggle 
 must inevitably ensue. But then I calculated, in the second 
 place, that I must be at least a mile from the prairie, that wished- 
 

 ^i 
 
 14 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 for refuge, and at less than half that diatanco I should be over- 
 taken. True, I had my rifle in my hand, and my revolver in my 
 belt, both loaded. I might fii-e at our foe. A moment's reflection 
 convinced me that at present it woidd be a useless attempt. Even 
 were I standing on firm footing, I might not succeed in sending a 
 ball into any vulnerable part of the bear. But a flying shot from 
 the saddle — it was simply absurd to attempt it. A thousand to 
 one it would have proved a failure. I determined, then, to reserve 
 my fire till we should be at close quarters, a contingency that, sad 
 to say, appeared most unpleasantly imminent ; for in spite of all 
 my horsemanship, and the gallant efforts of my Indian steed, a 
 space of hardly twenty yards now intervened between pursuer and 
 pursued. The moment, then, was approaching for action. Drop- 
 ping my useless reins on my horse's neck, I examined carefully the 
 cap of my rifle, opened the flap of the case of my revolver, and by 
 a glance assured myself that my " Green Eiver Knife " (the best 
 make of bowie knives) was in its usual place — my boot. Then I 
 carefully threw back the heavy folds of the Mexican poncho I wore, 
 to leave my arms free to hold my rifle. As I did so, an idea struck 
 me. In a moment I had slij^ped my head out of the poncho, and 
 had it in my hands, allowing it to flutter to the full extent of its 
 folds. Then I released it from my grasp, and it fell, as I designed, 
 between my horse and our enemy. 
 
 My stratagem was successful ; in the midst of his wild career the 
 bear suddenly pulled up at the sight of the fallen mantle, and stood 
 over it examining it curiously. Well was it for me that in my 
 younger days I had been a keen reader of travels and adventures, 
 and ] y that means become possessor of the little stratagem that 
 had perhaps saved my life. I again seized my abandoned reins, 
 and with voice and spur urged on my panting steed. It was well I 
 did so. After a few seconds' delay, which, liowever, enabled me to 
 put an interval of perhaps a hundred yards between us, my ruthless 
 
 III 
 
ADVENTUJIES WITH BEARS. 
 
 15 
 
 foe again reHumcd liis pursuit. Again ho had the advantage in 
 speed. In vain was all my horsemansliip ; in vain did I sacrifice 
 my Mexican sombrero, by throwing it to mother earth, devoutly 
 hoping it would have the same effect as the poncho. It was use- 
 less. Bruin passed ii with contempt ; he was not to be " done " a 
 second time. 
 
 On went the chase, and again did I have the mortification of 
 seeing the space between us gradually diminish, and my fate but a 
 question of minutes. As this direful conviction foiced itself witli 
 irresistible power on my mind, even at the veiy next moment a ray 
 of hope burst upon me. I cast a d espairing glance a-head, and to 
 my intense relief saw the ground ivas getting clearer. I was close 
 to the edge of the prairie. I shouted aloud in exultation ; for, as 
 the ground got more and more unencumbered, my horse drew 
 gi-adually a-head: A few seconds sufficed to double the space that 
 intervened between us and our foe. A few minutes, and we had 
 gained a full hundred yards. Humh ! A few hundred yards 
 more, and we shall be safe — safe on the prairie. At this moment a 
 stumble and a crash ensued. A thousand lights danced before my 
 eyes. My sorely-pressed Indian steed had lost his foothold on the 
 polished surface of a prostrate barked pine tree, and together wo 
 had come headlong to the ground. Half stunned by the fall, 
 nevertheless I scrambled to my feet in a second, and seized ray 
 rifle, which lay uninjured close at hand, and looked around; My 
 poor horse still ^ay where he fell, snorting piteously with fear. 
 Intuitively I felt there was not time to raise him and mount ere 
 our enemy would be upon us. There was but one hope now 
 remaining : it was to fight for it. Sternly and gloomily I mentally 
 accepted the alternative, and with a throbbing heart but a steady 
 eye and firm wrist, with my rifle at my shoulder, with my baclv 
 against a tree, I waited for my foe. I had not to wait long. On 
 he came ; for a moment I thought he hesitated which to attack — 
 
f^gg^ 
 
 16 
 
 KEMABKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 
 my steed or myself. I confess, in that moment of peril I sincerely 
 wished he would single out the former, who lay some ten yards 
 distant from me ; but it was not to be. Slightly diverging, llio 
 bear charged full upon me. I knew my life depended upon the 
 accuracy of my first shot ; if it failed, I should hardly have time to 
 draw forth my revolver for another. 
 
 When but ten yards lay between us, and he was gathering 
 himself up for the final spring, I took careful aim between the 
 eyes, and fired. A crash, a hideous growl, a second of intense 
 suspense, the smoke lifted, and I alone stood erect. The hideous, 
 gigantic form of my adversary lay prostrate on the ground, a 
 nervous twitching of the limbs alone betraying that life had not 
 yet departed. With a cry of triumph 1 rushed upon liim to 
 administer the coup de grace, Madnmu that I was! in that 
 moment of exultation I lost my presence of mind and neglected to 
 reload my trusty rifle. I did not even draw my revolver, but with 
 insensate wildness clubbed my rifle, and struck the monster over 
 his adamantine head. Contemptible idea ! the stock of my rifle 
 was shattered by the blow, and but the barrel remained in my 
 hand. The blow I had directed on the head of my adversary was 
 simply reviving. It had the effect that a dose of hartshvorn has in 
 a Tainting fit — it brought him to. He had been only stunned by 
 the ball. Grim, ghastly, and bleeding, he rose to his feet and 
 confronted me. A pang of surprise and remorse at my own gross 
 stupidity shot painfully across my heart. Fortunately, in that 
 moment of horror I remained cool. With the speed of thought, I 
 had drawn and cocked my revolver and ensconced myself behind a 
 tree. With weak and faltering steps, but still with fast renev.ix^g 
 strength, my opponent charged down to my tree. I stepped aside, 
 which caused him to make a slight detour ; and at this instant I 
 fired a chamber of my revolver. He did not drop, but, raising 
 himself on his hind legs, he threw liimselfupon me. I awaited 
 
s^ 
 
 ADVENTURES WITH BEARR. 
 
 17 
 
 him in desperate calmness?, though at this moment lie presented a 
 terrific spectacle, with glaring eyes, gTinning tueks, and tongue 
 dropping foam and blood. Almost I felt his hot breath on my 
 cheek, when I again fired point-blank at his head. The next 
 instant a blow from his fore paw knocked the weapon from my 
 hand ; that effort, however, was his last. With trembling joy, I 
 saw his huge carcass sink to the earth, and his life departed in one 
 indescribable growl of rage and pain. 
 
 With a thankful heart for so wonderful a deliverance, I now 
 went to i-aise my poor steed to his feet, and rode into camp, where, 
 amid many an ejacidation of astonishment, I told my tale, and 
 exhil-ited my trophy in the shape of the skin, of which I had^ 
 denuded my dead antagonist. 
 
 Such was my last interview with the tribe of grislies. When I 
 say my last interview, I cannot quite literally make the assertion. 
 " Again we met," but in a much more pleasant fashion for myself. 
 Dining one day at Delmonico's, the famous restaurant of Montgo- 
 mery Street, San Francisco, I observed on the table, in company 
 with several comestibles unknown to civilized gourmands of the 
 old country — such as flying squirrel, racoon, etc. — a portion of my 
 ancient enemy ; and I must confess that I ate a piece of him with 
 a certain peculiar gusto. My vindictive feeling, however, was 
 punished, for I had a most unpleasant attiick of indigestion after- 
 wards. I lay down my pen, and conclude with the parting remark, 
 that I should advise any one who places a due and proper value on 
 his life, to avoid the least intimacy, unless caged, or stuffed, with 
 the far-famed monster of the far west — the grisly bear. 
 
 1 ,M 
 
 ii.^iHlit- •- 
 
)-: 
 
 18 
 
 HE1VtAl{KATUiE AnVKNTITT?T:S. 
 
 STOPPED ON THE IIKillWAY. 
 
 It was in the fall of the yoar 1838 that I f=iot out from homo Into 
 ono evoninc^ to walk a diatanco of twolvo iniloa into tho oonntry. 
 It was for tho c^rea tor part a .solitary jonmoy; and to add to lis 
 discomfort the absonoo of tho moon rendorod tho ni.2;ht vory dnrlc, 
 whilst a. thick drizzling rain commoncod shortly after my loavinir, 
 and rontinnod throuG^hont tho Avholo lonp^h of my lonely wny. 
 Having no companion to choor tho solitude, 1 hnd only my own 
 thoughts to begnilo tho todiousness. Tt was a road, too, that Avns 
 occasionally att<^nd(Yl with Svuno danger to foot travellers; but 1 
 was on the Tjord's worlc, and feeding assured that his presence is 
 always nigh, and that "snthout his permission no evil can befall his 
 S(^rvants, "nor a hair of their head fall imto the ground," 1 
 gathered courage ; and committing myself to his grncious core, 
 proceeded through the thick darkness, which so efCectually excluded 
 objects from view that I could scarcely distinguish the form of th(^ 
 umbrella whicb I carried for j)rotection from the I'ain. 
 
 At the present date, tho locality is much improved, nnd where 
 there was then only the highway with its cross-roads, jiersons have 
 now the advantaws of the railwav, with its fiicilities and comforts. 
 But I was well acquainted with the route, and had therefore not 
 much difficulty in finding my way ; whilst I had plenty of occupa- 
 tion for my thoughts in the important errand on which I was going, 
 having on the next day to preach in a small town and an adjacent 
 village — the former being the place of my present destination. 
 
 It may not be out of place to slate hero that in the earlier 
 periods of my ministerial life, my duties entailed much hard work, 
 and many long journeys on foot — so that, to w\alk twenty miles in 
 the day and to preach two or three times was a weekly custom ; 
 but happily I was equal to my work ; though after a few years T 
 
MTOPrKI) ON THE IIICniWAY 
 
 10 
 
 fonml my Htronf^ili yioldiiinr to tlio f^roat tnx upon it, and my liraltli 
 also bt'gaii to sulTer, owing to woariuess and frequent exposure to 
 the severity of tlie weather. 
 
 I had proceeded about ten miles of my journey safely, and witli 
 no material impediment beyond wliat the extreme darkness 
 naturally eaused, with the imfavourable state of the roads, whieli 
 in many parts had become very miry; whilst, whore the trees 
 overhung, the hirge drops ])attered heavily and rather dismally 
 up(m the umbrella, which in fact had u long while continued to 
 shoot off a plentiful tUscharge of water from every point. 
 
 I was absorbed in thought, whi(.'h the stillness of the night (it 
 being nearly eleven o'clock) served to favour; when suddenly 1 
 heard a slight rustling sound somewhere near, which attracted my 
 whole attention for the moment. Before I could form an opinion 
 as to its cause, and whether it might not proceed fr m some strayed 
 horse or bullo(^k, wliich certainly I should not have wished to (!omo 
 into contact witli, I was '^tartled by the voice of a man from th(^ 
 opposite side of the road, authoritatively calling to me and bidding 
 me instantly to " stop there." 
 
 Surprised nt this unexpected interruption, and somewliat alarmed 
 by a sense of danger, my first impulse was, mentally, to call unto 
 the Lord to help and ])voU]ct me ; then, shutting my umbrella, by 
 an extraordinary sort of impulse I went over towards the spot 
 whence the voice ciimo ; when, to my horror, I perceived a man 
 jumping down from the hedge upon me, with a large bludgeon in 
 his hand, which he instantly upraised, as if intending by a blow 
 therewith to fell me to the ground. 
 
 I immediately spoke to him ; and in as calm a manner as I 
 could assume, requested to know what he wanted of me, and why 
 he had stopped me on the public road. 
 
 He at first gave me no answer, but stood before me with the 
 stick still elevated in the air, wliich I every moment feared and 
 
Ifr— 
 
 20 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 expected ho would bring down with a violence that perhaps might 
 inflict some grievous, or it might be mortal, injury. It was a 
 critical moment. Bat although I could not in the least have com- 
 peted with my antagonist, I was enabled to feel a degree of 
 composure which at the time surprised my mind : it was certainly 
 the result of humble dependence on Divine protection. 
 
 As I said, the man kept the stick raised, as if intending to 
 strike ; but from some peculiar cause it appeared Jie either hesitated 
 in his purpose or was altogether unnerved. 
 
 In the meanwhile I was emboldened to repeat my question, and, 
 without manifesting timidity, expressed a hope that he would 
 not attempt to injure mo. He then answered, " No, I won't harm 
 
 vou. 
 
 " Then, pray put down the stick," I said ; but he did not, and I 
 repeated my request : " Do remove that stick from over my head, 
 jind I will believe you." 
 
 " I do not mean to hurt you," he answered ; "I would not, for I 
 know vou." 
 
 Surprised at this statement — for I had no idea how it was 
 possible I could be known to him, neither of us being able, by 
 reason of the darkness of the night, to distinguish each other's 
 features — I said, "Know me, do you? Why, how is it possible 
 you sliould have any knowledge of me ?" 
 
 " I DO know you," he again averred. 
 
 « Then who am I ?" 
 
 " You are the minister of ." 
 
 " Pray how do you make that out ?" I said. 
 
 ** Why, sir," he answered in a subdued manner, Avhile he put 
 
 the stick down by his side, " I once heard you preach at , and 
 
 just now when you spoke, though I could not see who you were, I 
 knew you again by your voice ; so 1 would not harm you." 
 
 This singular disclosure both surprised and pleased me, and 
 
.STOPPED ON THE lUQHVVAV. 
 
 21 
 
 therefore, feeling ull apprehension removed from my mind, I begun 
 to go on ray way again, saying to the man : " I am indeed tho 
 person you describe, and am surprised at the recognition. I am 
 now on the Lord my Master's worlc ; and with the object of serving 
 him and, as I liope, doing some good to my fellow-creatures, by 
 directing them to the Lamb of God who taketh away the sin of 
 
 the world, I am out thus late to-night on my way to town. 
 
 Come along with me now, and let me talk with you." 
 
 The man stuck close to my side, and we went on together some 
 little distance, whilst I made inquiries of liim respecting his lying 
 in wait in the hedge at that hour of the night and in such weather. 
 But to all he kept nmte ; he neither answered my questions nor 
 made any response to the remarks which I felt it a duty to press 
 on his attention. He was evidently ill-disposed, and had Iain in 
 secresy with some evil design. I doubt if any honest man would 
 have been where he was and acted as he did ; or else, certainly, if 
 I had mistaken his purposes, he would have immediately told me 
 so and set me right, and not have continued silent to my words, 
 particularly when seeking to ascertain the object he had in lying 
 behind the hedge. After proceeding a short distance, he suddenly 
 grasped my hand, then darted forward, sprang into a narrow lane 
 on the left, and I entirely lost him. 
 
 How I felt at that moment, so suddenly left again to my own 
 reflections, I cannot describe ; but my first impressions were those 
 of Jacob when awaking from sleep on his journey between Heer- 
 sheba .'ind Haran : " Surely the Lord is in this place, and I knew 
 it not." 
 
 Oh, how often we need some special circumstance to be to our 
 mind the remembrancer of our absolute dependence upon God ! 
 The presence of God is always surrounding our path, and we cannot 
 go from his presence nor flee from his Spirit. But we do not 
 always, perhaps, so recognise that presence as when the Lord, by 
 

 22 
 
 llEMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 Ill 
 
 |i| 
 
 Ilia intei-posing providence in the season of a threatening cahimity, 
 shows us he is still earing for us, remembering us, and is every- 
 where with us. We need occasionally some unusual and peculiar 
 (circumstance or trial to prove to us that the Lord ii3 " a God nigh 
 at hand, and not afar off." And then, like the patriarch, we attest 
 our surprise that God was still so near, when perhaps we thought 
 ourselves " all alone ;" that in this or that crooked troubled path, so 
 intricate to our minds, so trying to our spirits, so dark to our com- 
 prehension, he was there too, in his aiding, supporting, protecting, 
 saving providence, love, and grace. " I knew it not." Oh, what joy 
 to our souls to make the discovery, by whatever means it may be, 
 that God is very nigh unto us ! But we ought always to be^'evc so 
 if we are his people and servants ; for " the angel of the Lord 
 encampeth round about them that fear him, and delivereth them." 
 
 Rescued so remarkably from the danger in which I had been 
 placed, my heart was lifted up in gratitude to the Almighty for his 
 merciful and timely providence. I blessed him for his protecting 
 hand, and also that he had enabled me at the moment not to 
 endeavour to make my escape from the man, which attempt, 
 perhaps, would have altogether foiled ; but to speak, and to speak 
 in the natm-al tones of my voice, by which I was instantly recog- 
 nised, and which prevented the violence that probably would 
 otherwise have been done to me. 
 
 It was near midnight when I arrived at my friend's house, to 
 whom I narrated the occurrence ; and then we joined together in 
 offering to the Lord the praise due to his great goodness. 
 
 In the week following, inquiries were set on foot in the neigh- 
 bourhood, to trace if possible the individual, but nothing could be 
 discovered ; and to the present he remains unknown, as probably 
 will continue to be the case until that day when aU secrets shall be 
 made public, and the hidden works of darkness, with all that is 
 treasured up in the Divine remembrance, shall be brought to liglit. 
 
AN AOVENTUUE IN CHINA. 
 
 2:j 
 
 I can only hopo that the few words I addressed to the maii may 
 luive been blessed l)y the Holy Spirit to his eternal ^ood. Tlien, 
 in more senses tluiii one, wo shall bo constrained to give glory to 
 God, and say, ^' This was the Lord's doing, and it is marvellous in 
 our eyes." 
 
 AN ADVENTUEE IN CHINA. 
 
 In August, 1822, when opium smuggling into China by English 
 ships was in its infancy, three of these vessels were at anchor in 
 the pretty little land-locked bay called Cumsen Moon, about twelve 
 miles to the north-east of Macao. The inhabitants about that part 
 of the country had, up to this time, scarcely ever been visited by 
 foreigners ; and although it turned out that they were filled witli 
 the usual Chinese ill feeling towards them, yet the report from the 
 ship which had been longest there Avas so favourable, as to cause all 
 arms to be dispensed with by the crews on going on shore at any 
 time, until the following occurrence took place. 
 
 Soon after breakfast one fine clear day, Mr. A , a young 
 
 officer belonging to the " Swinger," was sent on shore to fill water 
 in the launch, with a crew of eight Lascars and one Englishman. 
 It so happened that he met another officer from the " Nymph " on 
 shore, who was on the same duty as himself. The two youngsters 
 proceeded to take a walk into the country, for the purpose of 
 amusement and information. In doing so, however, they had to 
 leave the boats and ships entirely out of sight, turning shaj-p round 
 a bluff point very near to the watering-place ; which will be 
 seen in the sequel to have been a gross want of prudence, giving 
 the hidden enemy all the advantage which they seem to have been 
 stealthily watcliing for. 
 
 The walk was pursued for about a mile inland, towards a hill ; 
 
'f fr 
 
 ! 
 
 *24 
 
 UEMAUKAULE ADVKNTUKES. 
 
 and then, on returning by the same path, about five liuudrcd yards 
 irom the boat, but liidden by tho bhifi", they wore met by thirty or 
 forty (yhiuanien, some with hoes, and some with heavy sticks, used 
 for carrying weighty things across their shoulders. The Cliinti- 
 men, after passing, and having a great deal to say amongst them- 
 selves, enme after the officers, pulled them by the sleeve once or 
 twice to stop them, and stood in the way also to prevent progrcHs. 
 
 Mr. A , seeing that they were bent on a disturbance, thought, 
 
 under the circumstances, that discretion would be the best mode of 
 tactics. He stopped and turned round, but in a moment was 
 knocked down by a blow from some of the crowd of Chinamen. 
 This was followed up by tying the unfortunate officer's hands and 
 feet, stealing his neckerchief (nearly strangling him in the act), 
 and one shoe from his foot, and then letting him lie on the ground. 
 
 Mr. B , seeing this state of things, and possessing good long 
 
 legs, considered that now was the time to use them, by running 
 through the mob to the boats for assistance, which he fortunately 
 effected. Tho two crews of Lascars and the one English sailor 
 now took oars and stretchers from the boats, and bravely fought 
 the Chinamen for a short time, till they were driven back to tlieir 
 boats by overpowering numbers, and shoved off, without fui^her 
 
 loss, to their respective ships, to tell the tale of Mr. A being in 
 
 the hands of the enemy. 
 
 The caT)tain of the " Swinger " (an old lieutenant, R.N.) imme- 
 diately boarded the " Nymph " and " Sea Gull," and advised a 
 
 razzia of the country till Mr. A should be found and brought 
 
 back, dead or alive, which was forthwith put in execution, by 
 mustering on shore in due time all the officers, petty officers, 
 Lascars, and sepoys who could be spared from the three ships, 
 well armed with muskets, fowling-pieces, swords, pistols, etc., of 
 which opium ships in those days had no niggardly supply. 
 
 But we tnuBt now return to Mr. A . The moment tlio 
 
AN ADVENTUUE IN CHINA. 
 
 25 
 
 Chinamen saw tlio boata kIiovl' oft' irom the shore, tlie order was 
 
 ^iveii to put Mr. A on liis legs, by untying them ; and he, 
 
 liaving picked up his hat, but still minus tho shoe and neckerchief 
 stood for a moment, till the words, " Fye, fye," were given by one 
 of four villanous-looking fellows who were now left in solo charge 
 of tho prisoner. Not knowing tho meaning of this, however, at 
 the time — namely, " run, run " — ho still stood, and was forthwith 
 saluted by a stroke from a bamboo across the back of the legs near 
 the heels, and dragged forward at the same instant by two of the 
 four men, the other two following in tho rear with bamboos, in 
 case any slackening of the pace should appear. 
 
 In this manner, at a hard trot, did these wretches drive Mr. 
 
 A through paddy fields, and all sorts of ground, till they 
 
 reached the top of a hill, about two hundred feet high, although 
 lie was in great pain from the blow which he had received, and 
 hardly able to move at all. Before ascending the hill t>n the other 
 
 side, Mr. A turned round to look at the ships in the distance 
 
 with feelings of a somewhat melancholy nature, as may be sup- 
 posed, when the same man who had struck him said, hi lialf 
 Portuguese, half Chinese, " })o you want to look ? look ! it is your 
 
 last look !" These words Mr. A happened to understand, from 
 
 having heard occasionally a little of this jargon at Macao, and they 
 certainly did not tend to soothe his mind in its then anxious state. 
 8till, he had a kind of hope that dollars might gain his releyse, 
 although up to this time appearances were far from favouring such 
 an idea. Having descended the hill towards the beach, on tlie 
 opposite side from the ships, and after a two miles' run A\ith the 
 lieat at 100° at least, they halted under some trees close to a small 
 
 stream of water, of which Mr. A asked to be allowed to drink, 
 
 which was granted. He then, seeing that his wrists were alread}' 
 considerably swollen, from the tightness of the rope by which 
 they were bound, asked to have it slackened. This was also 
 
fr 
 
 m 
 
 i. 
 
 ti 
 
 26 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 not only granted, but ho was then only tied by one hand ; and 
 in a few minutes the run was again commenced for a fm-ther 
 distance < ' about two miles, nearly the whole of which was through 
 
 heavy sand, till at last a village was entered, and Mr. A was 
 
 safely housed in a large ground-floor room on one side of a square 
 court, where were two long tables, and benches on either side of 
 them. 
 
 Tired and fagged with a four-mile march at the double, and 
 dragged along by the rope like a bullock to be slaughtered, he sat 
 down at one of the tables with feelings more easily imagined than 
 described. These wore certainly not much relieved when, in a few 
 minutes, the demon of the bamboo brought some huge knives from 
 a corner of the room, and put them to his neck with a grin of 
 delight, saying that the mandarin would soon be there to pass 
 sentence of death on him, when he should cut off his head in the 
 manner then shown. 
 
 Meanwhile, hundreds of people came to see the Fankwei — men, 
 women, and children — who had never beheld one in their lives 
 before ; some wondered at his dress, others at his hair, and nearly 
 all jeered and laughed at his position ; even the women, whose 
 
 compassion Mr. A had tried to gain, abused him and talked 
 
 of the mandarin, making signs also of cutting off a head, etc. 
 
 The crowd being by this time very great, and adding much to 
 
 the almost insufferable heat, Mr. A begged to be relieved 
 
 from such unwelcome visitors if possible, which request was imme- 
 diii,tely acceded to, by his being placed in a small room on the 
 other side of the court, where was the usual Chinese bed — namely, 
 a mat and glazed pillow on a board, and a. stool and table with a 
 teapot and cup on it. The door of this place was only a mat 
 hung from the top, which was occasionally lifted up, to allow the 
 favoured few to have a peep at the Fankwei, or foreign devil. 
 
 Ml'. A here threw himself down on the mat bed, to await, 
 
AN ADVENTURE IN CHINA. 
 
 27 
 
 as lie lioped, the coming of the captain to his rescue, which ho 
 knew from experience he would do immediately on learning the 
 circumstances of the case from the boat's crew (for he did not then 
 
 know of the escape of Mr. B ), and he prayed sincerely that 
 
 this might happen before the arrival of the said mandarin. The 
 natives offered him tea, which he gladly accepted, after he had 
 first seen them drink out of the same pot ; and in a short time, 
 amongst the " favoured few " who were allowed to peep into this 
 
 raree-show, appeared a man who accosted Mr. A with the 
 
 well-knu Yu sounds of " Hey, yah, how you do ? I have see you 
 before ; I thinkee at Macao." Never was mongrel English more 
 welcome. Mr. A recollected having seen the man some- 
 where, and at once looked upon him as a friend, and asked if he 
 thought there was any danger of liis being killed, as had been 
 threatened ; to which the man said, in a careless, imsatisfactory 
 soi-t of way, " No, I no thinkee so." 
 
 " Do they want dollars ?" asked Mr. A . 
 
 " Yes," was the reply. 
 
 " How much ?" 
 
 " Two thousand," said the man. 
 
 " Maskee " (never mind), answered the prisoner. " If you wih 
 give me a pen and ink, with a sheet of paper, and take a letter to 
 the captain when written, he will give you the dollars." To this 
 itn assent was at once given, and the necessary articles being pro- 
 duced, a letter was forthwith written by Mr. A , descriptive of 
 
 the state of the case and his whereabouts, as near as he could 
 j;uess, not forgetting the beaiing of the village from the ship by 
 compass, and requesting that the number of dollars should be paid 
 which were demanded, and no killing or wounding at the watering 
 
 jtlace; as Mr. A was so completely in the Chinamen's hands 
 
 that he would then be sure to be beheaded. He also asked for a 
 [■air of shoes to be sent, to enable him to walk back to the ship. 
 
\rr 
 
 iiiHiiiiBHi 
 
 28 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 lilr 
 
 \\ 
 
 When this letter was despatched, Mr. A lay down once 
 
 more on the mat, and was now in a comparatively composed state 
 of mind, being under the impression that he would bo a prisoner 
 for four or five days at least, as the captain would require to get 
 the ship under weigh and proceed to Mf.cao for such an amount as 
 two thousand dollars, if that sum should really be demanded by 
 the messenger. Far different was the result, however. 
 
 On the man's arrival at the watering place, he found a con- 
 siderable number of well-armed men and officers, all ready for an 
 attack, and vowing vengeance against all Chinamen. The letter 
 was delivered to the captain, and when read, the man was asked 
 
 how many dollars were demanded, Mr. A having in tha letter 
 
 stated no particular number, but merely " to pay " the amount 
 *' demanded.' ' His answer was fifty, which the captain immediately 
 went on board the ship and procured, taking the opportunity of 
 
 getting a pair of shoes to send, and writing a letter to Mr. A 
 
 at the same time ; all of which he delivered into the hands of the 
 messenger, the dollars sealed up in a bag, addressed to Mr. A . 
 
 As this man objected to any Englishman going to the village 
 along with him, from fear of a fight, it was thought advisable to 
 give in to him, and send a Chinese carpenter, who belonged to one 
 of the ships, to assist in the negotiation, and show the road back 
 
 to Mr. A , no difficulty being apprehended, as the whole sum 
 
 asked for had been given, and the captain having no knowledge of 
 any greater having been spoken of. He told the man, however, 
 that, having satisfied his demands, he would allow a reasonable 
 time for the release of Mr. A ; but if this was not then accom- 
 plished, he would burn the village, and " make a second Lintin 
 business of it, and take him by force :" alluding to what had been 
 done there a few months before by H.M frigate " Topaz;.," which 
 caused a stoppage of trade for six weeks at Canton. 
 
 With this warning, the two Chinamen left the little " army " at 
 
AN ADVENTURE IN CHINA. 
 
 the watering y ice, and in due time made their appearance at the 
 village, and delivered the bag of dollars, letter, and shoes to 
 
 Mr. A , who, on recognising the carpenter, immediately gave 
 
 him the dollars to hand over to the four ** braves," and expected to 
 Ix) allowed to decamp forthwith. But, " man, man !" (stop !) was 
 the order, and a long angry conversation took place in the large 
 room amongst many Chinamen, who were not a little annoyed at 
 the small sum received by their messenger ; but theif had not seen 
 the " guns and swords, and rungs and gads " which caused this 
 craven to reduce his figures so instantaneously ; and it took at 
 least twenty minutes of verbal war for him to convince his friends 
 that it was better to pocket fifty dollars with a whole skin, than 
 lose their village and their lives by standing out for a larger sum. 
 The carpenter, no doubt, had some weight in the argument, and at 
 
 last Mr. A was " granted a pass " to the watering-place, iu 
 
 company with the carpenter. He tried hard to induce the four 
 braves to accompany him back, by way of showing the road, 
 1 laving a distant glimmering of seeing them tied up at the gang- 
 way of his ship, and expiating their offences under the boatswain's 
 tuition ; but as the probability of such a climax had no doubt 
 been hinted to their own minds, the invitation was politely re- 
 fused, saving so far as to the skirts of the village. 
 
 With a light heart, Mr. A now travelled along with the car- 
 penter, and in the course of an hour had the gratification of being 
 Avelcomed at the watering-place by three cheers from the armed 
 party in waiting, and many a hearty shake of congratulation by the 
 hand ; feeling at the same time deeply thankful to the Almighty 
 for his merciful escape, and particularly for having so willed it that 
 lie should have been without arms on the occasion of his capture ; 
 a?j they certainly would have been used, and, as a consequence, 
 \\ ould almost as certainly have been the cause of his murder. 
 
 As it is customary in China for all mandarins to live upon those 
 
i' ^,.^vJ^M,vi*m.!tMV, t » 
 
 eSS 
 
 iSSm 
 
 30 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 under them, by " squeezing," or niaklii!:>' them pay cloHars, it wn!-''i 
 not much to be wondered at that some of them should try to malvcs 
 capital out of the above occurrence ; and consequently, three ov 
 four days aftei*wards a man-of-war junk, sent by the admiral from 
 Cheun-pee, oame to anchor in the bay, and in a short time tli(^ 
 mandarin went on board the " Swinger," and made inquiries 
 touching the description of the attacking parties, and particularly 
 
 that of the four " braves," which was easily given by Mv. A , 
 
 their features being indelibly imprinted on his mind, and he having; 
 in addition been able to get hold of their names from some of th(> 
 natives at the watering place. 
 
 The mandarin said he should go on shore and seize those men, 
 and, if successful, bring them on board the " Swinger " the follow- 
 ing day for Mr. A to identify, when he should tie them u}) 
 
 and flog them till Mr. A was satisfied. But on that same 
 
 evening an East India Company's ship arrived and anchored at 
 Lintin, and the captain of the " Swinger " having business to trans- 
 act with it, it was necessary for him to get under weigh at day- 
 light on the following morning, and sail for that island, distant 
 
 about six or seven miles, which prevented Mr. A witnessing 
 
 the flogging of the four " braves ;" for it was shortly afterwards 
 known that the mandarin did seize them, and not only flogged 
 them well, but " squeezed " them well also. 
 
 The ship which had arrived was that to which IMr. A pro- 
 perly belonged, he having only been lent to do duty in the 
 " Swinger " during her temporary absence' at Pcnang ; and as lie 
 then for ever quitted the opium service, he has had no subsequent 
 opportunity of learning any further particulars concerning the men 
 who committed this outrage, or even the name of the village t(^ 
 which he was dragged. The facts are, however, strictly true, and 
 will tend to show how absolutely necessary it is for all boats' crew^^ 
 to use the greatest caution on landing on the coasts of China. 
 
LOST IN THE WOODS. 
 
 31 
 
 LOST IN THE \YOODS. 
 
 JiEFORE the discovery of gold at Vancouver's Island, when tlie 
 onlv European residents were confined within the quadrangle of a 
 wooden fort, or, more properly speaking, a stockade, I was on one 
 occasion very nearly perisliing in the woods of that beautiful 
 island. The abundance of game of all sorts, and my ovm love 
 of adventm-e, tempted me to set out alone, thereby hoping to have 
 a 1>(}tter chance of securing a deer than if accompanied by a com- 
 rad(\ I started for a small stream running into Esquimalt liar- 
 hour, where the Indians had informed me the animals came at day- 
 break to drink. I soon found myself following a trail, which I 
 believed led to the desired spot : of this, however, I gradually 
 became doubtful, as the ground began to rise, and the trail gi-ew 
 less distinct as I advanced. The grand trunks of pine trees, 
 towering far above the rest of the forest, and the thick dark foliage 
 they supported, impressed my mind with that indescribable feeling 
 of awe which we experience in the broad silent desert or the perfect 
 calm at sea. I had seen no traces of deer, and the only sounds 
 which had met my ear were the sharp tapping of the large wood- 
 pecker and the flapping wings of the pigeons. The stems of the 
 trees were blackened by the action of fire, and in many places 
 some giant trunk, felled by the wintry gales, lay across my path. 
 I toiled onward, but without finding the stream for which I was in 
 search. The sun was high in the heavens, and all chance of reach- 
 ing the di'inking place of the deer in time to meet them was at an 
 end. 
 
 After taking a biscuit from my pocket and a sip from my flask, I 
 turned to retrace my steps; but in this I was even less successful, 
 for the trail I had followed appeared to be growing less distinct, 
 and branched off in several directions. Hearing a rustling sound 
 

 !l 
 
 32 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 in tlie underwood, I stood quite still; and presently, to my dcliplit, 
 I detected the head of a deer, about two hundred paces in front of 
 me. I raised my gun and fired, when the animal gave a bound, 
 and, as I fancied, fell. 
 
 Without thinking of the trail, I ran forward until I reached the 
 exact spot at which the creature was wlien I pulled the trigger, but 
 he was nowhere to be seen ; upon the leaves, however, there were 
 traces of blood, which I followed, hoping soon to come up witli the 
 wounded buck. The difficulty of tracing the blood upon the 
 ground became greater, and at length I was compelled to stop and 
 again try to find my way back. After many fruitless attempts, 
 I was forced to give up, and sit quietly down to think as to 
 my wisest course. The usual expedients by which the Indians 
 regain the lost trail were at that time unknown to me, and having 
 no compass, or any knowledge of the trend of the coast line, I was 
 uncertain in which direction to proceed. I had no watch, and was 
 therefore compelled to guess tlie hour, by which means alone I 
 could determine my position by the sun, as it wixs impossible to 
 obtain a sight of the sun's disc. My scanty stock of biscuit was 
 exhausted, and the difficulty of struggling through the scrub had 
 wearied me, so that I fancied it would be wiser to remain where I 
 was, until I could determine my course by the sunset : then I knew 
 that by travelling westward, I must reach the coast. A wolf came 
 near me while seated upon a fallen tree, but I failed to obtain a 
 shot at him, and soon heard his unpleasant howl far away in the 
 forest. 
 
 As soon as the twilight commenced, I began to think the night 
 would prove the most uncomfortable part of ni}^ adventure ; so, to 
 relieve the gloom, I kindled a fire and collected al the diy wood I 
 could lay my hand on, previously choosing a bare spot of open 
 ground, where there could be no fear of the forest taking fire. 
 Sleep was out of the question, for as soon as darkness set in, 1 
 
 li 
 
LOST IN THE WOODS. 
 
 
 ' d('lis2:hi, 
 
 :■ 
 
 I front of 
 
 '1 
 
 a bound, 
 
 1 
 
 lehed the 
 
 M 
 
 gger, but 
 
 ''f 
 
 lero were 
 
 1 
 
 with the 
 
 ■i 
 1 
 
 upon the 
 
 
 stop and 
 
 
 atteni})ts, 
 
 '^S 
 
 nk as to 
 
 
 e Indians 
 
 
 id havinjjj 
 
 ' iM 
 
 ine, I was 
 
 ''M 
 
 I, and was 
 
 
 s alone I 
 
 
 ossible to 
 
 ■1 
 
 scuit was 
 
 J 
 
 scrub had 
 
 
 1 where I 
 
 
 n I knew 
 
 
 rolf came 
 
 
 1 obtain a | 
 
 lay in tlie 
 
 
 ihe night | 
 
 le ; so, to 
 
 ly wood I 
 
 ' 
 
 1 of open 
 
 " 
 
 King fire. 
 
 1 
 
 Iset Id, I 
 
 ,■■■' 
 
 could hear the various predacious animals busy in the distance, and 
 occasionally the light would fall upon the shining eyeballs of a wolf 
 or bear, several of whom were bold enough to approach so neai* that 
 I could see their forms distinctly. One gaunt old wolf drew so 
 close to me that I could see the glistening of his ugly fangs, and 
 ]X3rceivc that his skin hung loosely upon his bones. Several times 
 this brute endeavoured to summon courage to face the flames, but 
 a burning piece of wood thrown at him sent him howling back int:> 
 the gloom. Nothing daunted, he returned to the attack whenever 
 the flames died away, until I put an end to his intrusion by sending 
 ii ball through his chest. 
 
 At the report of my gun, the whole of the forest seemed alive ; 
 birds, bats, and animals of every description, added their sounds to 
 the unearthly screaming of the stricken wolf. Although I had 
 collected a large stock of wood before nightfall, yet keeping three 
 fires burning, between which I placed myself, soon diminished my 
 supply, and made me impatiently long for the morning ; added to 
 this, I now began to suffer from great thirst, not having been able 
 to find any water from the time of my leaving for the woods. As 
 the sun gi'adually threw its beams high into the heavens, the 
 excitement of the nocturnal feeders grew less, and at sunrise I 
 found myself alone once more. After casting a careful glance 
 around on every side, I stepped from my lodging in quest of the 
 wolf I had shot. To my surprise, not a trace of the carcass was to 
 be found. I had no doubt he was killed by my ball, from the 
 quiet way in which he lay for an hour or two afterwards ; he must 
 therefore have been carried off by his comrades. 
 
 Directly the sun showed, I turned my back to it, and pushed my 
 way through the underwood, having previously reloaded my 
 double-barrelled gun. The further I went, the thicker the tangled 
 shrub became. My thirst was increasing, and my want of rest did 
 not improve my condition. For hom's I toiled on, yet never 
 
 C 
 
fl 
 
 M I' 
 
 84 
 
 KEMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 Beemed to find the trace of liuman beings. Sometimes I went 
 through gigantic ferns, where it was quite impossible to steer my 
 course, as, once amongst them, everything else was hidden, tliey 
 rising many feet above my head. I could hear the deer push 
 through them. I occasionally fired at a squirrel or a bird, in the 
 hope that the report of my piece might reach a stray Indian, and 
 thus bring me help. Another night at length stared me in the 
 face. I searched for berries, but could find none, and water was 
 nowhere to be seen. The ground and wood were parched and dry. 
 I was so exhausted that it was with difficulty I could make a fire ; 
 notliing but the stimulus which the idea of a prowling wolf, or the 
 loud sniffing of the black bear, gave to my fears, induced me to 
 exert myself. 
 
 Towards the morning I noticed a thickness in the air, coming up 
 with the wind, and soon perceived the smell of smoke to windward 
 of my fires. At first I hoped it was some party sent to search for 
 me, and therefore discharged one barrel of my gun. What was my 
 horror, however, while listening for an answer to it, when I heard 
 the crackling of sticks and the roar of flames ! The forest was ou 
 fire. In my fear I rushed madly forward away from the flames, 
 but they were evidently fast overtaking me ; and past me on every 
 side galloped deer, wolves, and bears, while birds of various kinds 
 flew before the clouds of pursuing smoke. In the horror of the 
 moment my thii'st was forgotten ; the two dreadful nights I had 
 passed were obliterated from my memory, and I struggled on, 
 exerting all my remaining strength. As I burst through a dense 
 growth of ferns I observed an Indian lad running, not away from 
 the fire, but across it. I shouted, and the boy beckoned. In a 
 moment it occurred to me that my only chance of safety was to 
 follow the lad. Throwing my gun and powder away, I gave chase, 
 and notwithstanding his fleetness managed to keep him in sight. 
 Every nerve was strained, every sense on the alert, for already I 
 
 |l ! 
 
ADVENTURE WITH SPANISH SMUGGLERS. 
 
 33 
 
 could feel the heat from the roaring flood of flame. Onward 
 I staggered, the smoke now blinding me, and the oppression being 
 so great that I felt my efforts must soon terminate. Still, I fan- 
 cied through the distant trees I could see the fire gleam upon the 
 sea. From this time I know no more, for I reeled forward and 
 fell to the ground. 
 
 When I recovered myself, 1 was lying upon the sea shore, close 
 to the water, with several Indians squatting by my side. As I 
 recovered, I became aware of my hair having been burnt, and my 
 clothes very much scorched. It appears that the Indian boy told 
 two of his tribe that I was following him, whereupon they had 
 entered the forest in time to see me fall, and had at great peril 
 dragged me after them to a place of safety. These men proved to 
 be Indians of a friendly tribe, who had been despatched in search 
 of me, upon the promise of some twenty blankets if they brought 
 me in alive. They started the morning after I failed to return, 
 and had followed my trail as far as the first night-fires, but could 
 not proceed, the underwood having caught light from them ; and 
 so they were obliged to take to the coast, where they providentially 
 met with the boy, who stated my being close at hand ; and thus 
 my life was saved when lost in the Vancouver Island woods. 
 
 AD^^NTUEE WITH SPANISH SMUGGLERS. 
 
 At the close of the year 1850, 1 embarked from Jaffii on board an 
 English schooner, of small tonnage and still smaller accommoda- 
 tions, that had been loading Syrian wheat for the markets of either 
 Cork or Plymouth, whichever port the fickle winds might happen 
 to waft us to. A long sojourn in the east, and a frequent acquaint- 
 ance with fever in its most pernicious form, had induced my 
 
ill 
 
 36 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTUHES. 
 
 medical advisers to recommend a sea voyage ; and a love of home, 
 added to a much-cherished desire to be an eyewitness of the 
 wonders of tlio then widely spoken of Exhibition, pointed out 
 England as the most desirable spot for renovating a nearly broken 
 constitution, and for mingling once more with the delights of 
 civilized towns and sensible companions. Accordingly, witli a 
 sallow face and a bottle of sulphate of quinine — the inseparable 
 companion of my travels — I took leave of the Holy Land, and lent 
 a hand in getting up the anchor and sheeting thj sails home. 
 
 The schooner being fairly under weigh and making good pro- 
 gress through the waters, I descended into the small and badlylit 
 cabin, which was to be my home for many days to come, there to 
 draw an inference from the features and conversation of my com- 
 panions, as to the probability of my having a pleasant or a dis- 
 agreeable voyage. The close, damp, confined smell of that gloomy 
 cabin — too low to stand upright in — too slippery and greasy to sit 
 with comfort in — too dark to see to read in — too full of lockers 
 filled with miscellaneous stores to hope for rest or quiet in — all 
 these things foreboded sad inconvenience and perpetual trouble ; 
 and such forebodings were amply verified. The accommodation 
 for passengers consisted of two berths of about five feet long, and 
 one and a half broad ; in some parts two feet, in others only a foot, 
 high. Here mattresses, etc., were spread at night; but in the 
 morning they were rolled up, to admit of free access to the bread 
 lockers. The space between these two berths was the sitting 
 apartment, with a small table rivetted to the centre, and a small 
 hatch under it, through which the cabin boy was perpetually 
 disappearing in search of cabin stores. Round the table in a semi- 
 circle ran some lockers, which served as seats, greasy with old age 
 and continual pawing. Off the cabin was the captain's state room, 
 which had much the appearance of a dirty bandbox, full of inde- 
 scribable odds and ends. How he ever found anything he put 
 
AIA'ENTrKE WITH SPANISH SMUGCiLKKS. 
 
 37 
 
 f home, 
 of the 
 
 ited out 
 
 f broken 
 
 lights of 
 
 , -Nvith a 
 
 leparablo 
 
 and lent 
 
 ne. 
 
 ;ood pi'O- 
 
 1 badlylit 
 
 , there to 
 nay com- 
 or a dis- 
 
 at gloomy 
 
 easy to sit 
 
 of lockers 
 
 et in — all 
 trouble ; 
 imodation 
 long, and 
 Inly a foot, 
 lut in the 
 Ithe bread 
 [le sitting 
 id a small 
 erpetually 
 lin a semi- 
 Ihold age 
 iate room, 
 ll of inde- 
 \ct he put 
 
 uwiiy, or ever found room to put anything away at all, was always 
 a puzzle to mc. A sninll glass skylight admitted the light in lino 
 weather, and the sea to a very inconvenient extent wlicn it was 
 rough. The schooner was caller a clipper, which term signilies, I 
 imagine from the experience I gleaned, a vessel that has never 
 a dry spot on her decks, from stem to stern, be she before or on a 
 wind. 
 
 Well, so far so bad ; but this is not one hundredth part of what 
 we had to undergo. The berth opposite to the one allotted to me 
 was occupied by a shipwrecked captain, who had lost his vessel in 
 a gale at Jaffa. His mate and an apprentice were also passengers ; 
 but, as there was no room for them aft, they slept with the sailore, 
 and only came down into the cabin at meal hours. This ogre of a 
 man, as I may fairly term him, who had, as he himself declared, 
 been the unluckiest of mortals from his youth up, was always 
 prognosticating something unpleasant to us all. When the wind 
 was fair, he argued that it would not last ; when foul, that it had 
 set in for a fortnight. A squall with him was the forerunner of a 
 gale ; a gale was to increase to a hurricane ; while on a really 
 stormy night, the smallest evil he predicted was the shifting of the 
 cargo, and the sudden disappearance of vessel and all beneath the 
 waves. Our own captain was a timid but very consequential little 
 man, and one that paid great deference to the suggestions and 
 ominous bodings of his passenger. 
 
 Besides all this, we had in good earnest very dismal weather the 
 whole voyage home, and this was nothing but what was to be 
 expected in the depth of winter. The mate and the men were 
 perpetually wet ; the cabin boy, who was also cook, led a life in 
 comparison to which that of a slave must be quite enviable. The 
 iire in the galley was always being put out by the sea ; the mate 
 gvowled for his coffee, the captain for a dry shift of clothes, and 
 the unhappy boy had to bear the brunt of all. He was punched by 
 

 IlEMABKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 tho men, cuffed by the mate, roared at by the captain, and never 
 slept, I should think, for whole weeks together, for more than 
 twenty minutes on a stretch. I need not hero refer at length to 
 the miseries I suffered in being cooped up with such unseemly 
 beings; the disgusting meals, the loathsome table cloth, the 
 incessant alarms, both false and well founded; wet men, with 
 dark lanterns, rushing into the cabin at all hours of the night, to 
 see how the time went, or in search of a block, or a marline spike, 
 or a pump tack, or some requisite for the frequently occurring 
 casualties. SufSce it to say, that we had a rich variety of mishaps, 
 and all the ogre's predictions were verified, except the total loss of 
 the vessel and its hands. We sprang a leak; the cargo shifted 
 slightly ; the sails were torn all to tatters ; there was hardly a 
 sound rope left in the rigging; the mainmast had 9j.«ruD.g; the 
 skylight was washed away ; a poor fellow had fallen overboard in 
 a calm, and was drowned ; and, as we neared the Straits of 
 Gibraltar, nightly adventures took place with outward-bound 
 vessels, each one of which seemed bent upon our utter destruc- 
 tion, coming so close upon us in the dark of the night as to cause 
 the greatest confusion and dismay. 
 
 Thus had we been knocked about and tossed on the ocean for 
 upwards of a month, when at last the winds grew more propitious, 
 and twenty-four hours* fair weather brought us in safety into the 
 bay of Gibraltar — a kind of ha^f-way house to all ships on their 
 voyage from the Mediterranean. We had no sooner passed the rock 
 than the wind chopped round again and blew a perfect hurricane 
 in our teeth. Now was a favourable opportunity to recruit the 
 exhausted strength of the crew by repose and wholesome provi- 
 sions ; but the master was too much afraid of his griping owner at 
 home, who regularly taxed his meagre bills each voyage, to dare to 
 incur the expenses attendant on^'the anchorage— such as harbour 
 and other dues, etc. We had, consequently, the mortification to 
 
ADVENTUBE WITH SPANISH SMUGGLERS. 
 
 39 
 
 §cft wholo fleets of homeward-bound vessels lying snugly at anchor 
 off tlio forts, patiently abiding a shift of wind which miglit render 
 the navigation of the Gut practicable, wliilst wo ourselves were 
 cniising about day and niglit in fruitless attempts to stem the 
 tide, which sets in from Tariffa like a sluice. 
 
 One night, after we had been about a fortnight at this kmd of 
 work, beating tack and tack up the narrow passage, the wind 
 failing us entirely, it ysi^ found requisite to let go a bower anchor, 
 80 as to keep the vessel from drifting. Scarcely had the cable 
 been veered out, before we were boarded by one of those desperate 
 Spanish smugglers, who, in spite of the fate sure to attend their 
 detection, make it a frequent practice to visit homeward-bound 
 vessels becalmed in the Gut, to supply them with fresh meat, fruit, 
 vegetables, bread, etc., all which they sell at an exorbitant price ; 
 fis well they may, considering the risk incurred. Now my readers 
 must remember that all vessels from Turkey and Egypt are 
 furnished with unclean bills of health, and hence all communica- 
 tion with them is strictly forbidden, both by the British govern- 
 ment at Gibraltar, and by the Spanish government Though 
 steamers are continually passing and repassing, and Spanish gun- 
 boats cruising about on the look-out, these hardy bravoes set all 
 laws at defiance, and manage, in spite of all consequences, to hold 
 incessant intercourse with homeward-bound British vessels, from 
 which, as may be readily conceived, they derive no small emolu- 
 ment. To be fired upon was an every-day occurrence with them ; 
 and one sinister-looking fellow, the chief of the gang that boarded 
 us, had no less than fourteen bullet wounds in his body, all 
 which he showed us with the greatest exultation. The captain, 
 who had no scruples in breaking the quarantine regulations, gave 
 the smugglers to understand that, if we were detained next day by 
 contrary winds, they were at liberty to bring off a cei-tain quantity 
 L of beef, fruit, vegetables, etc., the whole of which was to cost about 
 
Hi;;' 
 
 I \^ 
 
 40 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 twenty dollars, or five pounds sterling. They perfectly understood 
 the order, although given in broken Italian, and cheerfully pro- 
 mised to be punctual in the fulfilment of the captain's wishes. 
 Intelligence of the expected good cheer sjon got wind amongst the 
 crew, and, tired as they were of sea dvjt, they impatiently awaited 
 the return of the boat. Where a captain sets the example of 
 breaking the law, his crew are not likely to be very particular on 
 the subject. The captain himself, however, as subsequently 
 appeared, having the dread of his owner before him, inwardly 
 hoped that a breeze might spring up and carry off the vessel 
 before the return of the smugglers should compel iiim to disgorge 
 the twenty dollars. The smugglers, however, did return; their 
 boat was laden, too, with many such things as a half-starved sailoi* 
 yearns for. 
 
 Meanwhile, a fair wind sprang up, and all hands were busily 
 employed weighing the anchor, just as the smugglers' boat 
 reached the vessel's side. The Spaniards made frantic gesticula- 
 tions to our captain to heave to ; but nothing would induce him to 
 do this. Finding this to be the case, they made fast the painter of 
 tbeir boat to the mainchains, and, springing upon deck, vociferated 
 loudly for payment ; and the captain, pretending not to understand 
 Avhat they said, referred them to me, as a person who understood 
 the tongue. Accordingly, on me they fastened, like angry wolves 
 upon their prey. My arguments to prove my innocence in the 
 transaction were useless. One ruffian was handling his dagger in a 
 most unpleasant manner ; and, little doubting but that he would 
 make good use of it if I held out, I was ol.liged to make a pre- 
 cipitate retreat to the cabin. I had hardly reached it, and secured 
 the cabiii door after me, when I heard a violent scuffle ensue on 
 deck. The mate and men, who had been too much occupied at 
 first to observe what was going forward, rushed aft, on seeing one 
 of the Spaniards dive down the cabin ladder after me. In his rage 
 
INUNDATION OF THE RHONE. 
 
 41 
 
 nderstood 
 •fully plo- 
 t's wishes, 
 longst the 
 Ly awaited 
 cample of 
 ticular on 
 )sequently 
 inwardly 
 the vessel 
 to disgorge 
 urn; their 
 ,rved sailoi* 
 
 v^ero busily 
 rlers' boat 
 I gesticula- 
 uce him to 
 painter of 
 vociferated 
 understand 
 understood 
 gry wolves 
 Qce in the 
 iagger in a 
 , he would 
 take a pre- 
 nd secured 
 ) ensue on 
 ccuTi'ied at 
 seeing one 
 [n his rage 
 
 to gi'atify his revenge, the chief smuggler placed ten dollars in the 
 captain's hands to obtain his permission to fire a single shot at me 
 through the the skylight. I need not say tliat such a proposition 
 was replied to by the immediate forcible expulsion of the Spaniards, 
 who were bundled unceremoniously into their boat. The vessel 
 speedily distanced them ; but just as I reached the deck again, the 
 loud report of a pistol, aimed at me, rang in my ears, and the 
 splinters from the companion hatch, which the ball had stiiick, 
 flew high up in the air. So nearly was I becoming a victim to the 
 mean trickery of the worthless captain, and to the insatiable 
 revenge of the Spaniards ! 
 
 The whole adventure was calculated to leave the impression 
 strongly on my mind that, if we venture to do what is improper, as 
 the captain manifestly had done iii breaking through the harbour 
 regulations, and encouraging these reckless men, we can never be 
 8nre of the consequences. The smallest deviation from what is 
 entail the most serious ai 
 
 rignt may 
 who yield to it. 
 
 painful 
 
 upon 
 
 A LADY'S ADVENTURE DUEING AN INUNDATION 
 
 OF THE KHONE. 
 
 We had disembarked at the great port of Marseilles, the landing- 
 place from the French province of Algeria. My companions took 
 their places at once for Avignon ; but I wanted to see the old 
 town of Aries, a place deservedly interesting, not only for its 
 ancient Roman memorials, but its dearer Christian memories ; I 
 therefore only took mine as for that city, having arranged to join 
 my friends in a few days at their hotel in Avignon. 
 
 The season was late in autumn, and, were we speaking of India, 
 it might be briefly described as the rainy season ; for such rain, 
 
 c2 
 
42 
 
 EEMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 following a summer of extreme heat, has seldom been seen. Even 
 on shipboard v/e had murmured at that disagreeable tautology, rain 
 on sea. Notwithstanding the pertinacity of the skies, however, I 
 descended at Aries. I wanted to see its Coliseum, where gladiators 
 had fought, and martyrs of Jesus had died. I ^^ anted to see, also, 
 the great old cemetery of the Komans, where some of those con- 
 querors of ancient Gaul had been laid in dust. 
 
 I saw the Coliseum, built by the proud Komans, and saw now, 
 under its grand old walls, the otherwise houseless poor of modern 
 •days had erected their miserable sheds with almost Irish ingenuity. 
 I saw the modem women of Aries, reminding one of the matrons 
 of ancient Eome. I thought of Caesar and of Gaul ; I thought of 
 a greater than Caesar, and of his greater yet lowlier followers. 
 And so, having thought of Christian times and Roman times, in 
 this old city of Gaul, I set off in search of iho metery of its 
 mighty conquerors. 
 
 The rain fell, sometimes heavy, sometimes light, but always con- 
 stantly. I had no guide, and relied on finding what I wanted by 
 turning the words " Eoman cemetery " into French — a sort of 
 phraseology which much perplexed the kind people who wished to 
 direct me. I saw, however, stone coffins built into rude modern 
 stone walls, as the boundary of fields ; and I saw, beside farm- 
 houses, cattle drinking out of stone troughs that once had held 
 the body of a proud Roman. Morsals of antiquity, put to uses vile, 
 were seen all around ; but it was with much difficulty I r ail out 
 my way to the vast field of the dead, for which I lo . -i, A 
 strangely impressive scene it was — one of havoc and deso; \^ lod.. 
 The antiquary, the moralist, the Christian, might there lind 
 interesting matter for thought. 
 
 Two reasons made my survey a hasty one : first, the grass was 
 long and wet, among which lay the broken stones of the tombs, and 
 I hid wet from above and beneath ; and secondly, and far more 
 
 "T 
 
IJJUNDATION OF THE IlHONE. 
 
 43 
 
 Even 
 ogy, rain 
 )weYer, I 
 gladiators 
 see, also, 
 lose con- 
 saw now, 
 f modern 
 ingenuity. 
 3 matrons 
 ihoug^t of 
 followers. 
 1 times, in 
 tery of its 
 
 [iways con- 
 antfcd by 
 
 a sort of 
 wished to 
 
 iQ modern 
 
 side farm- 
 had held 
 uses vile, 
 ir ad; out 
 ), i.o i> A 
 
 Ideso/ !i.^ ior.. 
 
 I there iiud 
 
 grass was 
 Itombs, and 
 k far more 
 
 effectively, my place was taken in the diligence to Avignon ; and 
 before railways changed our customs, it is well known that tho 
 only unanswerable plea that could bo made for resisting tho 
 entreaties of friends to stay with them, was to say at once, " I have 
 taken my place." So I had taken mine ; and not even Eoman 
 antiquities would have induced me to linger, even if my wet feet 
 had not also felt more ready to hasten back to Aries than to linger 
 in that wilf^ field of the long ago dead. 
 
 It was in the afternoon that I entered the diligence for Avignon, 
 where I was to rejoin my friends at an appointed hotel. The end 
 of October was approaching, and the torrents of rain that had 
 fallen for some days, had by no means ceased ; but I felt quite 
 comfortable when once seated in the Srst place of the coupe. 
 
 The rain had increased, and darkness began to gather, when I 
 became sensible that some unusual cause of interest or inquiry had 
 arisen between the rest of the passengers and the conductor, who, 
 at each descent from his elevated seat in the hanquette^ was eagerly 
 questioned by them ; while he appeared as eagerly to question all 
 persons whom he encountered on the road. The further we went 
 the more did this sort of commotion increase ; heads were pro- 
 jected from the windows of " the interior " and the roiondey and 
 anxious inquiries were evidently made ; but I was too secluded in 
 my " first place " to be able to hear the cause of an anxiety, which, 
 indeed, I did not at all share, simply because I thought it could 
 not concern me. I soon began to observe that, at every hamlet 
 we passed, a short halt was made ; tho diligence wae surrounded 
 by seemingly anxious people, and the passengers spoke to them 
 still more anxiously. Our conductor, a fine active young man, had 
 been all along impatient of delay, but he became more and more 
 so ; and each successive driver, who was taken up with each tresh 
 set of horses, was either more and more sulky, or more boisterous 
 and daring. There was evidently sometliing the matter ; but T 
 
REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 luul tlio coupe all to myself, and, not caring to open the window 
 and let tlie rain in, merely to hear what sounded to me as a rude 
 jal)ber of foreign tongues, I acted a thoroughly English part, and, 
 drawing myself into my snug corner, listened to the splashing of 
 water around us, and thought it was very well to feel dry when so 
 many must be wet. I saw, nevertheless, that as darkness deepened, 
 my fellow-passengers dropped rapidly away ; luggage, intended to 
 have seen Avignon, was hastily made to descend, amid the 
 entreaties of passengers, the vociferations of helpers and lookers- 
 on, and the indignant exclamations of the excited conductor, who 
 evidently felt each moment of lost time to be more and more 
 haras 'ng. At last he would no longer be delayed by stopping to 
 take Qc uggage ; he let out his passengers, only crying to them 
 that they vould find their goods at a future time in Avignon, and, 
 scarcely waiting till their feet touched the ground, shouted out, 
 Allez ! and on we dashed. The last we thus let down was a 
 Frenchwoman, who had long seemed resolved to share whatever 
 fate might lie before her boxes, which of course contained the robe 
 that few Frenchwomen, under any circumstances, can forget ; but 
 slie, too, finally descended at a poor house by the way-side, saying 
 something of the necessity of trying to save herself, but affirming, 
 in touching though vehement tones, that her trunks were doomed 
 to perish, and without resource. The conductor flinging out his 
 hands in answer, was springing up to his seat in the hanqnette, 
 muttering that he then must perish with them, when a sudden 
 thought must have struck him that something was still in the 
 coupe. He opened the door, looked in, and said with em- 
 phasis — 
 
 " Will you keep your place ?" 
 
 " Without doubt : I am going to Avignon.'* 
 
 " Brave woman ? allons ! — vive les AngJaises !" he cried, clapped 
 the door, and on we drove. 
 
INUNDATION OF THE RHONE. 
 
 45 
 
 window 
 IS a rude 
 •art, and, 
 
 astog o^ 
 
 when so 
 leepened, 
 tended to 
 imid the 
 i lookers- 
 actor, who 
 
 and more 
 
 toppWAg t^ 
 ng to them 
 ignon, and, 
 liouted out, 
 own ^vas a 
 re whatever 
 ,ed the robe 
 |forget; hut 
 .side, saying 
 it affirming, 
 rere doomed 
 jing out his 
 i6 hanqnettej 
 jn a sudden 
 stiU in the 
 with em- 
 
 ried, clapped 
 
 I knew I got praise, and I liked it, especially from a Frendi- 
 man ; but liow I came to deserve it I knew not. 
 
 The darkness grew intense : deep silence succeeded the recent 
 commotion ; the conductor only spoke at intervals to the driver, 
 and then it was in that deep-toned voice which always indicates 
 tuixiety. I felt, rather than heard, that he exhorted him to sp(3ed ; 
 the driver's voice, in reply, seemed buried in his throat. The 
 sound of water was on every side. Surely, I began to think, it is 
 not merely rain. 
 
 Our road lay along the course of the Illione — " the arrowy 
 Ehone," so swift and strong ; but, though I knew that, the idea of 
 danger from it had never crossed my mind ; even still I imputed the 
 urgent haste, the anxious voices, or still more anxious silence of 
 the men, to the fact that the heavy rains had made them wet and 
 out of temper. In critical moments, or circumstances of much 
 anxiety, speech is always repressed ; the loud and eager voices of 
 the two men were hushed, and not a human or living thing appeared 
 to be on the road. A low remark, or a brief exhortation to speed, 
 was all that was heard from the active conductor ; wliile our last 
 driver soon ceased to utter the cries, expostulations, and abusive 
 epithets which a French postilion employs in aid of the terrible 
 whip, by whose sound only the horses are driven. 
 
 Thus, in silence and darkness, I rested content, till a sudden 
 dash of water over the windows of the diligence convinced me that 
 rain was not the cause of fear. I rose to the front windows and 
 looked out. To my astonishment, all that was visible of the six 
 white horses, harnessed three and three f^breast, was just the top 
 of their broad flat backs rising above the water ; even their short 
 tails, wound up in straw, were submersed. 
 
 "We are in a river," said I to myself; "not in the river, un- 
 doubtedly. But what can be done ? The conductor will not drown 
 himself or me, if he can help it." 
 
"^tm 
 
 46 
 
 BEMAEKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 ii!l 
 
 
 w^ 
 
INUNDATION OF THE RHONE. 
 
 47 
 
 W, 
 
 
 -. I .i'.-, 
 
 
 .^^^'S 
 
 ;^> 
 
 
 '% 
 
 I drew back to my corner, supposing that we were crossing some 
 part of a river, but never imagining that the river was crossing us. 
 The men kept unbroken silence ; nothing save the splashing and 
 dashing of water was heard : it went over the top of the dih'gence, 
 and streamed down again over my windows, so that I could not 
 see the least bit through them. I felt the men were not asleep, 
 and I began to feel that they were deeply anxious ; I tried if it 
 were possible to open the window and ask what was the matter, but 
 I soon saw it was wiser to let the water stay outside than to admit 
 it in. I rested in the same silence till a slight ascent in our road 
 became perceptible : as soon as this was the case, the voice of the 
 conductor burst out ; he called, he cried, he implored, scolded, 
 promised, urged the apparently sulky driver; he impelled the 
 horses himself ; he seemed ready to jump down and help them to 
 draw ; the driver, too, awoke ; his terribly resounding whip went 
 like a succession of pistol shots ; his voice helped it, loading the 
 poor terrified animals with all sorts of tenderly abusive epithets ; 
 calling them hogs, robbers, little rascals, demons, cowar«'i, inter- 
 spersed with encouragements and formidable threats. The con- 
 ductor was standing up, leaning over and looking round. On we 
 went up-hill, evidently rising out of water, and driving as for life 
 or death. "VVTien, all at once — plash ! — down we went, or else up 
 came the water, I know not which ; I thought we had plunged 
 into the river at last. It was a startling moment, and I uttered a 
 little scream, though no one heard it. The horses were plunging ; 
 even their white backs no longer appeared like a line of light 
 when I tried to see ; and I heard an exclamation from the con- 
 ductor, that went to say something that sounded certainly very like 
 a declaration that we were lost. It was almost time to get afraid, 
 and I had just formed the determination to be so, .d to remain 
 quiet no longer, when a shout burst over my head — a cry not of 
 terror but joy ; it was echoed by the driver ; the foam of water was 
 
48 
 
 REMARKABLii ADVENTURES. 
 
 ., 
 
 ( 
 
 lashing over us, but we were iisceiiding. With great dilfieulty 1 
 got the window partly opened, and called up to the hanquette. 
 "What is the matter, conductor?" "We are saved! we are 
 saved ! Be quiet now ; shut the window," he said ; and I saw the 
 lights of Avignon dimly gleaming through the mist. W^e were 
 closer to it than even he had known. The whip cracked, the 
 horses flew up the rising ground, the water lashing over them : at 
 full gallop we dashed through the old gate of the city ; no revenue 
 officei*s or customary formalities stopped us ; but straight on we 
 di'ove into a large coach-house or covered shed of some sort. 
 
 Here our conductor was instantly suiTOunded by eager inquirei-s ; 
 anxious faces circled us in a crowd. Breaking through all, he ran 
 to the coupe, took me out like a bundle of goods, and put me down, 
 above my knees in water ; then, finding I could not, or would not, 
 wade on in it, he snatched me up in his arms like a child, ran 
 across a street, kicked open the door of a house, and di'opped me 
 into the passage within it. 
 
 A woman, with a white face and long thin candle in an equally 
 long thin candlestick in her hand, came to it, and would evidently 
 Jiave kept it closed if she could. By the light of that candle I 
 saw what the good conductor's exertions or anxieties must have 
 been ; he was a strong, active, ruddy-complexioned young man ; 
 but now he was singularly pale, and large drops of what seemed to 
 be cold perspiration were falling from his forehead. His chest 
 heaved, as if from long pent-up breath. He said a hasty word to 
 the staring woman — I only heard him utter " brave woman " as he 
 pushed me in, and, before she could recover sufficiently from her 
 surprise to speak, he had disappeared. 
 
 I saw her look after him quite aghast, and, turning my head to 
 the street, beheld a crowd of persons flocking to her open door like 
 mosquitoes attracted by the candle. Her face, one might think, 
 was enough to di-ive them back ; but, in addition, all her energy 
 
INUNDATION OP THE RHONE. 
 
 49 
 
 [liculty 1 
 anqndte. 
 wc are 
 [ saw the 
 VVe were 
 ;ked, tlie 
 tlieni : at 
 
 revenue 
 
 ht on we 
 
 )rt. 
 inquirei-s ; 
 
 ill, he ran 
 ; me do\vn, 
 would not, 
 child, ran 
 ropped me 
 
 an equally 
 
 1 evidently 
 at candle I 
 must have 
 )ung man; 
 
 seemed to 
 
 His chest 
 
 ty word to 
 
 ■aan " as he 
 
 y from her 
 
 Uy head to 
 
 in door like 
 
 [ight think, 
 
 ler energy 
 
 was required to get the door closed : she then moved the caudle 
 for mo to follow her, and went up-stairs, ushering me into a dirty, 
 most repulsive, and veiy cold chamber. 
 
 *'Do you not think I had better go to anothtT house?" 1 
 
 said. 
 
 '• On the contrary, I think you had better stay where you are. 
 You ask me wliat I think ; I tell you what I thinh, but not what I 
 wish" slio replied ; and, lighting a much shorter bit of candle, left 
 it with me and went away. 
 
 I was wet from head to foot ; cold, and in want of a warm drink, 
 and something to eat : fire, too, was an absolute necessity. I went 
 out on the staircase, and saw her walking about below it, as if 
 attempting to barricade her house. I called down, and requested 
 a fire. The candle waved a negation ; but, in addition to its ex- 
 pressiveness, she added, ** Fire ! No !" and went on. 
 
 I watched, shivering, till she repassed. 
 
 " Can I have supper ?" 
 
 " Supper ! Are you mad ?" and with a doubly negative wave, 
 ;amo back with a chilling emphasis, " No ! no ! a thousand times 
 10 ! 
 
 I crept back to my cold, black-looking chamber. The rain had 
 )r some time ceased to fall, and, never having conceived a notion 
 )f an inundation, I was totally at a loss to account for all these 
 wry unusual symptoms. At last the idea of a revolution occurred 
 
 mo. " Yes," 1 said to myself, " there is certainly a revolution, 
 
 [nd at Avignon, with all its hideous, bloody memories." I shivered. 
 
 Jut then I was cold as well as frightened ; and the cold I hoped to 
 
 it rid of, if I could not the fear. I therefore took off my wet 
 lothes and went to bed. But to sleep was impossible. The house 
 
 )or was assailed by knocks and loud calls outside. These forced 
 ^y poor hostess to appear at a window, from whence she pathetically 
 
 iplored the crowd of persons below to consult their own safety. 
 
REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 and begone from a house that was certain to be destroyed. This 
 was an additional solace for me. The tumult in the street kept 
 me awake all night. 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 After such anight as that described in the previous chapter, one 
 feels less disposed to rise in the morning. But day had only broke, 
 when my hostess burst into my chamber. The candle was not in 
 her hand, but her face looked even worse. 
 
 " Mademoiselle, have the goodness to rise instantly." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " You must leave the house this moment.*' 
 
 " Why r 
 
 " Because if you don't go this moment, you will never go at all 
 — no never ! You will be lost. We shall all be lost. We have 
 no provisions. We must shut up all below, and take refuge at the 
 top of the house. We cannot maintain you." 
 
 " What is the matter ?" I cried, jumping up with more alacrity 
 than I had believed myself capable of. " Is it a revolu " 
 
 "What is the matter? Are you ignorant, then? — and you 
 travelled last night ^ Go to the door, and you will see." 
 
 I dressed quickly, and went to the door. The house was a comer 
 one, and the street was rather more elevated than those adjoining 
 it. The day was bright, and all was still. My hostess saw me 
 looking complacently from her door. She caught my hand, and 
 drew me out to the corner of the house, making me look down the 
 next street ; and there, to my surprise, I saw an advancing tide, the 
 water flowing on in a full stream, and people in boats saving some 
 of their goods from the houses. 
 
 "Are not the waters come?" she cried, in a tone of bitter 
 triumph. ** Now, then, save yourself — ^begone — leave us. We are 
 lost" 
 
INUNDATION OF THE RHONE. 
 
 51 
 
 red. This 
 treet kept 
 
 jbapter,one 
 only broke, 
 3 was not in 
 
 5ver go ftt all 
 t. We have 
 refuge at tlie 
 
 more alacrity 
 
 lu '' 
 
 a?— and you 
 
 >» 
 ee. 
 
 e was a comer 
 Lose adjoining 
 jBtess saw me 
 [my hand, and 
 [look down the 
 cing tide, the 
 ;s saving some 
 
 Itone of bitter 
 reus. We are 
 
 " Where are the hotels ?" I asked. 
 
 " In the waters," was the answer ; and it was a true one, for all 
 the good hotels, being near the river, were the soonest submerged. 
 Many Engli8h travellers on their way to Italy were made prisoners 
 in them. My friends — where were they ? To seek them was im- 
 possible. 
 
 " What shall I do ?" I said, much more humbly than I had yet 
 gpoken. 
 
 " Do what you can, only leave us. Be quick — go — leave us ;" 
 land with a wave, as if of an imaginary candle, she disappeared, and 
 1 1 never saw her again. 
 
 As I looked round in a sense of forlomness, I saw a young eoun- 
 ^tryman in a clean bright blue blouse, with a countenance that 
 » might be said to carry a good letter of introduction in its frank, 
 ^honest, kind expression. He was talking with an equally pleasant 
 tlooking young woman. I went over to him, explained my position, 
 ;^id I was a stranger, as my speech testified ; that I had narrowly 
 ^escaped being in the waters the night before, and now wanted to 
 Ipnd a lodging where I could be kept out of them. 
 
 The young woman evidently seconded my appeal, and, after a 
 
 jw moments' consultation between themselves, he turned to me, 
 
 )k off his casquette, and asked if I would allow him the honour 
 
 conducting me to some houses in the high part of the city, where 
 
 might obtain lodgings. I gladly allowed him that honour. 1 
 
 id no luggage, no bag even, to remove ; and, having my bonnet 
 
 my hand, and my still wet clothes on, I set off with my new 
 
 ^end. My hostess, indeed, had put my bonnet in my hand, and 
 
 her retreat closed up her house ; she sought for no pay, and 1 
 
 ^lieve my nightly refuge was only accorded to me for the con- 
 
 ictor's sake. 
 
 i^Guided by the polite Frenchman, I soon ascended above the 
 Ivancing waters. The streets then were dry, the air quite warm j 
 
It 
 
 52 
 
 IJKMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 bu( the aspoct of the sky was curious ; it was not darlc, nor ^i*oy, 
 nor wliat we call lowering, but it seemed so low that, while blue 
 and bright, one might think to take hold of it from the tops of the 
 houses. 
 
 We applied in vain at sevoml lodging-houses ; they would not 
 tak(^ lodgers now, because provisions might fail ; they hud no firing, 
 or made some such excuse. At last my friendly guide mannged to 
 get me a large clean chamber, at the veiy top of a very high house, 
 in the highest part of Avignon, just near the foot of the vast rocky 
 hill on which stands the citadel. Here, leaving me with a tidy 
 old woman, he took an order for my luggage, with whi(;h, in im- 
 plicit faith, I intrusted him, and went off to seek my late conductor, 
 who had all my worldly possessions. I had eaten nothing from my 
 breakfast the day before : certainly a French breakfast is a nice, as 
 well as a substantial meal ; but, after twenty-four hours* fast, the 
 prospect of its repetition was particularly pleasing. My three 
 wants now were — fire, breakfast, and change of raiment. For the 
 last 1 must bide the time of another ; for the two former I pro- 
 ceeded to ask my new housekeeper. Brer ^t and fire! The 
 iitter astonishment in which my old hostesa xepeated the words 
 almost alarmed me. What! Breakfast and fire, when all the 
 world were in the waters ; when they had no provisions, no firing, 
 and never might be able to get any : did I imagine she was to 
 give me breakfast and fire, because she let me her chamber ? 
 
 I saw I must moderate my demands, and I took another tone. 
 
 W ell, just for this time, slie could give me a little coffee, and 
 sugar and boiled milk, and bread and butter, and — yes, if there 
 was nothing else — some eggs would do; I could then make an 
 English breakfast. And she would also give me a fire. She held 
 up her hands, liited her shoulders, eyed me as if thinking whether 
 I was quite in my right mind, and, for a further exposition of wliat 
 I was to expect from her, a\ ent over to a small closet, opened the 
 
INUNDATION OF THE RHONE. 
 
 58 
 
 k, nor ^'py, 
 whilo blno 
 tops of the 
 
 y Nvonltl not 
 ud no fii'in?, 
 luanaged to 
 high house, 
 LC vast ro(;ky 
 with a tidy 
 vhich, in im- 
 te conductor, , 
 ling from my 
 it is a nice, as 
 ours' fast, the 
 r. My throe 
 ent. For the 
 former I V^'o- 
 id fire! The 
 ,ed the words 
 when all the 
 ions, no firing, 
 uc she was to 
 amber ? 
 other tone, 
 tie coffee, and 
 ■yes, if there 
 hen make au 
 ire. She held 
 nking whether 
 osition of what 
 ;et, opened the 
 
 door, and showed me it was very neat, and quite empty ; she said 
 I niiL,dit keep my wood there: then to another, and exliibited cups 
 and crockery ware in excellent orc'er ; then on to a really charming 
 littlo scullery, where pots and pans were all beautifully arranged, 
 and where she told me I must wash u}) all the things I used. I 
 repli('d, that all the domestic arrangements for housekeeping in a 
 single chamber were truly admirable and perfect; but my only 
 embarrassment was, that I had nothing to begin my housekeeping 
 with, and I was really desirous to use some of the cups, and plates, 
 and pans, before I washed them. 
 
 " Do so, then," she answered with a nod, and was moving off. 
 
 " But I have nothing to use them with." 
 
 « That is your affair." 
 
 I began a pathetic tale ; told how narrowly I had escaped from 
 being lost in the waters of the Rhone ; how I was wet, cold, and 
 hungry ; and how much I felt the necessity of hot cafe au lait to 
 i-esuscitate me. 
 
 " It was truly dreadful," she remarked ; but her eyes spoke of a 
 melting mood — " truly dreadful ; but if people would travel, what 
 else could they expect ? The English travel on the high roads ; 
 they spent their money, and lost their lives as well as their time ; 
 but if they chose to die on the high roads, that was not her affair." 
 
 ** Ah ! but the French are so kind. I might have been left, at 
 all events, knee-deep in the waters all night, if a good Frenchman 
 had not carried me in his arms into a house." 
 
 " Well, yes ; it was necessary to be good to foreigners — that was 
 ; well understood," the mollified old dame began to mutter. 
 
 " Yes ; and then, see now, madame, it was this very reputation 
 I of the French that made me so confident that you would give me 
 I coffee, and such things, till I can get them for myself." 
 
 '* Well, if you will, for this once." 
 
 " Yes ; and you will make me a fire ?" 
 
 m 
 
I I 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 *' Make a fire ! Heard one ever the like ?" 
 
 " At least you will give me wood ?" 
 
 " Well, yes, it is necessary to be kind to strangers ; — yes, for this 
 once ; but you must make your fire." 
 
 " Very well, that I will do." 
 
 I was delighted to find that politeness and good humour really 
 do succeed with the French. My breakfast soon appeared : while 
 I waa enjoying it in came my hostess, dragging a tall bundle oi* 
 brushwood, followed by a man loaded with great logs. This was 
 all stored in the closet, and the good dame told me I might make 
 my fire, but exhorted me to be saving of the wood, as she could 
 not, on any terms, get me more ; all the wood, as well as coffee, 
 milk, eggs, bread, meat, butter, and everything else one wanted, 
 being, with all the world, in the waters. 
 
 " Now, then, make your fire," said she, putting a box of matches 
 on the table ; " but if you take my counsel, you will not waste the 
 matches, since we can get no more — positively no more." 
 
 " Are the matches in the waters also ?" 
 
 " Undoubtedly. Now you speak to me no more — absolutely no 
 more. I have done my duty. It is necessary to be good to 
 strangers. Now light your fire, and warm some water, and wasli 
 up those cupp, and mind you never speak one word to me any 
 more." 
 
 She went away, dear old thing, satisfied she had done her duty 
 by f stranger ; and I set lo work to obey her directions. But, 
 alas ! after many efforts, I had to call upon her to complete the task. 
 
 She began to work in her own way — quite a different one from 
 mine — building up the logs in an artistic manner, on scientific 
 principles, and very soon had made me a charming fire while 
 giving me a lesson how to make it. Somehow I never did leani 
 that lesson practically, and each day it was repeated during the 
 whole fortnight that I was a water-bound prisoner in the good 
 
 J 
 
INUNDATION OP THE RHONE. 
 
 55 
 
 ; — yes, for this 
 
 humour really 
 3peared: while 
 tall bundle oi" 
 [ogs. This was 
 1 1 might make 
 )d, as she could 
 well as coffee, 
 Lse one wanted, 
 
 box of matches 
 ill not waste the 
 
 iiore. 
 
 —absolutely no 
 
 to be good to 
 
 vater, and wasli 
 
 yord to me any 
 
 i done her duty 
 irections. But, 
 ►mplete the task. 
 Bferent one from 
 er, on scientific 
 ming firo while 
 never did learn 
 ited during the 
 ler in the good 
 
 dame's house ; and each day 1 had my fire lighted while she was 
 I teaching me how to do it, and marvelling at my invincible 
 ignorance. 
 
 Just as I had settled myself to the enjoyment of its blazo, and 
 was witnessing the process of evaporation taking place from 
 my garments, in walked my honest-looking Frenchman, as honest 
 as his looks, with my travelling bags in his hand, and followed by 
 a youth with my portmanteau on his shoulder. He congratulated 
 me with real friendliness on being so comfoiiable, assured mo I 
 might rest in peace, as there was no danger, for all the old 
 ,^ woman said, the waters would reach me in my elevated lodging ; 
 Sand of that he was glad, for the conductor had told him I was 
 "'"'a. woman of courage, and my life was worth saving, though 
 ;|^ he had been much afraid it might be lost in the flood the night 
 before. I felt that as men become heroes often by accident, 
 ' womei? may appear to be heroines from ignorance. 
 
 "But what has caused this flood?" I asked this intelligent 
 young man. " Can the late rains, heavy though they were, so 
 ffect the great river Rhone ?" 
 
 " It is not our river," he replied, " that is to blame ; but that 
 ery ill-natured one, the Durance. In autumn, when there is 
 ucli rain, it becomes truly wicked ; the snows that melt in the 
 ountains, up there in Dauphine, swell the torrents that pour 
 to it, and then it meets our river, which is good enough by itself, 
 ut when it is charged with these bad neighbours, you see, mado- 
 oiselle, it grows very mischievous. The poor people down below 
 ere will lose all." 
 
 You, I hope, are not ^"u danger of loss," I said, at the same time 
 iresenting him with soiue money as compensation for his trouble 
 " Pardon me," he said mth a bow, " I am not in the waters, 
 d can take nothing ; I am happy to have served you. The boy 
 ho carried the tnmk will be glad of a trifle." 
 
fi 
 
 ■f i« 
 
 Ml 
 
 n 
 
 REMAuKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 I tliank(>d him gratefully : ho went away bowing and smiliii;j, 
 and saying ho had only done as he would wish one of my counlry 
 peophi to do by him if ho were a stranger in England. I siLjhi.'d 
 as ho closed the door, thinking if it were certain that an Engh'sli 
 countryman would take all tliis trouble for a foreigner, without 
 any notion of reward. Then I oj)cnod my portmanteau, which 
 was only strapped down, without any lock. All was right, and, 
 more surprising, dry within; and I soon luxuriated in my change 
 of circumstances to such a degree, as, with too common sclliishuess, 
 to forget for a time that all the world was in the waters. 
 
 I got coffee a second time, and an egg for my dinner ; I f ared 
 to ask for more, for even that was obtained with a great deal of 
 manoeuvring. However, the very next day I reconnoitred from my 
 window the position of the house, and satisfied myself that then^ 
 could be no obstacle to my mounting the vast hill of rock on which 
 ray window looked. Accordingly, notwithstanding the warning of 
 my hostess, I left the house, and soon mounted the heights. The 
 view from thence was curious. 
 
 Avignon, the city of the popes, was called in old time, bef(n-e so 
 many of its churches were destroyed, La Ville Sonnante — tin* 
 ringing town — from the number of its bells; but now even the 
 diminished number of its bells were silent, for the churches weiv 
 inundated, most of them being full of water to the pulpit tops; 
 and the houses in the lower part of the town were almost buried. 
 The deepest silence prevailed : it was like Venice, if tlio voices ol 
 people and the sounds of music were unheard in that water-city ; 
 but tiie jioor people who went about the inundated streets in boats 
 weve quit 3 unlike the gondoliers and the grand canal passengers. 
 
 As far as one could well see around the town, the mighty 
 Rhone appeared to be the conqueror and possessor of the lunl 
 that had lately held it lU. The tops of the trees on islets wciv 
 covered ; only some of the upper parts of taller trees on its bank^ 
 
INUNDATION OF THE IIHONE. 
 
 57 
 
 my conuU-y 
 L I siiiiuMl 
 an En"2;li^l^ 
 tier, without 
 tteau, \\\nc\\ 
 % ri^ht, aiul, 
 I lUY cluiugo 
 
 !r3. 
 
 creat tU'ill of 
 ircd from my 
 lelt* that ther(> 
 roelv oil Nvhicli 
 10 Nvariiinp; of 
 heights. Tho 
 
 imc, hcfove so 
 5omiante — tlx^ 
 now eve 11 tho 
 
 churches weiv 
 ■e pulpit tops; 
 
 almost buried, 
 the voices oi 
 
 ^at watev-city; 
 
 ;treets in hoais 
 
 Ll passengers. 
 
 L the mighty 
 
 lor of the laivl 
 on islets weiv 
 
 es on its Ij-^^^^^- 
 
 wero visible above the flood, and looked liko water-marks to show 
 its extent ; and the spires and turrets of tlio old papal city alone 
 tow(;red up haughtily over tho waste of waters. All traffic ami 
 ti'avelliiig were suspended, business was at a stand, only a few 
 8hoi)s in liigh situations were open ; and the stillness of this large, 
 ;.busv, and ivputt dly noisy city was almost oppressive." It was 
 , useless to ask lur any one or anything — tho post-office was in tho 
 :* waters ; the letters were in the waters ; all tho world, in tlio brief 
 *sum total of Fr(Mich speech, was in the waters. But my walk 
 ^yielded me more than a curious view. As I descended the hill, 1 
 f happened to take a wrong turn, and found myself in a nice and 
 t pretty little market. Never was market more grateful to my eyes. 
 'The people who had goods to sell there looked very gloony, and 
 those who camo to buy looked very cheerful. Tho reason, ^bjy 
 ■itold me was, that the latter got better bargains than they sh juld 
 #get when provisions ought to be so dear; and tho former, hiving 
 me from the country with their provisions, could not sc.dl 
 em beeause customei-s could not get to them. Hero I got the 
 ost deli(.'ious lamb and the sweetest autumn violets. The lamb 
 as so delicate, one could not think it what is vulgarly called 
 lUtehers' ?iioat; neither was it so rich as game. I believe its 
 elicucy arose from the ereatures being fed on the Cevenues 
 ,ount. ins, which are covered with aromatic herbage. 
 At iho end of a fortnight tho rain, whicii for some previous 
 ys had been light, but pretty 'onstant, quite ceasi^d; tho sun 
 me out of its thin shroud, and a breezi; snrang up. 31 y old 
 stess came to give me her daily hsson in lire-making, and 
 nounecd that soon all the world would be out of the waters. I 
 nt out on the hill, and saw the flood was rapidly retiiing; the 
 y ground was seen, where before tho Wir rs had prevailed. The 
 el of the air was the most remarkable 1 have ever known : I can 
 dy compare it to a warm vap ur bath, if you can fancy the sun 
 
'f'l 
 
 ■l I 
 
 . i I 
 
 w 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 shining through a vapour bath. The sky was blue and bright, the 
 air quite stilJ, but both hot and moist — wetting while it warmed 
 you. The aspect all around was most deplorable ; worse, now that 
 the flood was retreating, than when it prevailed: misery was 
 apparent now ; it had been covered before — ruined dwellings and 
 goods ; people knee-deep in mud, trying to gain access to what 
 was so lately their home, or their shop. When I saw the melan- 
 choly looks of so many, my heart reproached me with my laio 
 pleasant and selfish contentment. 
 
 I soon walked down to the town : I saw many persons cleaning 
 mud and water from houses and churches. The pulpit of one of 
 the latter was quite filled with mud. A melancholy looking 
 English carriage — ^known to be English by having a "lady's maid" 
 seated outside, whereas a femme de chamhre would have been witli 
 her lady inside — drove languidly out from a hotel : an old lady 
 only was in it, and it moved away with the subdued air of a 
 besieged party allowed to retire. 
 
 I found my friends at their hotel, and waded in through soft 
 tnud and water, to astonish them with my appearance. My house- 
 keeping had agreed with me, and they did not take me for a 
 spectre, though they had, they declared, been horribly uneasy for 
 my fate. I assured them I had been equally so for theirs, as I 
 was told their hotel was in the waters. 
 
 I returned to my single chamber, to take leave of my kind olii 
 hostess. I assured her, if she ever came to England, it woulc 
 give me pleasure to teach her how to light one of our coal fires. 
 
 " And that, mademoiselle," she said, "I think you may well do: 
 for it is my belief you would never have known how to do any out 
 thing if you had not been with me, when all the world was in tk 
 waters." 
 
 And so my teaching time ended when the Rhone and Duranft 
 withdrew to their proper limits. 
 
A NIGHT AMONG CHINESE PIRATES. 
 
 •59 
 
 id briglit, the 
 le it wanned 
 )rse, now that 
 : misery was 
 iwellings and 
 ccess to what 
 ^wthe melan- 
 with my lat^ 
 
 rsons cleaning 
 alpit of one of 
 icholy looking 
 "lady's maid" 
 tiave been with 
 I: an old lady 
 bdued air of a 
 
 in through soft 
 ^ce. My house- 
 take me for a 
 ibly uneasy foi 
 for theirs, as 1 
 
 of my kind oIg 
 Igland, it woulc 
 )ur coal fires. 
 )u may well do; 
 to do any out 
 rorld was in the 
 
 Ine andDuranct 
 
 I I have written in a lively strain, for I have recorded on paper 
 #he facts and circumstances of what befell me, simply as they 
 ■furred. Yet it would be ungrateful not also to record an 
 topression of humble and hearty thanks to Him who saveth our 
 Mie from destruction, and also crowneth us with loving-kindness 
 %id tender mercies. 
 
 M 
 
 A NIGHT AMONa CHINESE PIKATES. 
 
 tvERYBODY knows that the coasts of China are sadly infested with 
 ites. Of this ugly fact I was forcibly reminded as I stood on 
 
 tike deck of the good ship S , in which I was to sail from 
 
 Hong Kong to Amoy. As we were about to weigh anchor, a 
 
 i||Dat came alongside, from which several Chinese sailors clambered 
 
 i||lL deck and inquired for the captain. Having found him, they 
 
 ^plained that they had been deputed by the captains of eight 
 
 18 which were bound for Kap-Ohe, to ask whether he would 
 
 ^nsent to be their convoy for protection against the pirates. Our 
 
 ^ptain having a well-armed ship, and being an old naval officer, 
 
 nothing loth to undertake the task. The two passengers 
 
 lyself and another) offering no objection, the bargain was soon 
 
 icluded, and we set sail. As the old barque stood out of the 
 
 rbour, with her eight clumsy-looking little junks around her, 
 
 looked very much like a hen with her chickens. The ten gims 
 
 It peeped out from her port-holes, however, qualified her to act 
 
 protecting part of the cock should occasion require. 
 
 i'or the first four days of our voyage the only enemy we had to 
 
 itend with was the strong head-wind, against which neither we 
 
 our convoy could make much progress. Every evening at 
 
 jet we were obliged, in compliance with the timorous usage of 
 
 Cpinese sailors, to come to an anchor in some bight or bay. To 
 
li i! 
 
 ifiij 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES, 
 
 moil accustomed to travel by steam, this seemed slow work ; yet I 
 did not regret it, since it afforded me opportunities of going ashore 
 to visit several towns and villages on the coast, which are rarely 
 seen by Europeans. Wretched enough these outlying villages 
 looked. With their mud-built houses, their few and dingy sho]).s, 
 their narrow and filthy streets, where fat pigs strolled about, and 
 children, scarcely less fat, were their companions, they gave tin 
 visitor no very exalted idea of the so-called Celestial Empire 
 These sea-coast villages, however, mean-looking as they are, woull 
 in less populous empires rank as cities. They owe their existenc- 
 to the fisheries, which are so industriously prosecuted along tlit 
 whole seaboard of China. 
 
 But to return to our vovagfe. The wind, which for four dav 
 had so retarded our progress, on the fifth increased to somethim 
 like a gale. Our poor junks, and our puissant selves, had enouL'i 
 ado to hold our own. In the teeth of such a gale, progress \m 
 out of the question, and a safe anchorage for the night was l!i 
 chief anxiety. The only safe anchorage which seemed at a! 
 available, was that marked in the charts as Mico Bay. To reat: 
 that was the object for which we and our junks no'»v toiled hart 
 If we could only get round that headland, we should be safe. Ei 
 no I tack after tack still found us on the wrong side of that bli; 
 cape ; and at last we were forced to come to anchor in a small ai H 
 exposed bight outside of that Mico Bay which had been oi 
 " desired haven." 
 
 Wliile we were dropping anchor, the ship's carpenter (a Chiii. 
 man) came up to the captain, and with a look of importance in I: 
 face said, " That no good ship," pointing to a strange junk, wlii 
 was just then crossing our bows ; " she a pirate." 
 
 " Pirate !" exclaimed the captain, taking up his telescope ;i: 
 surveying the junk indicated. " I see no signs of piracy abc 
 her." 
 
A NIGHT AMONG CHINESE PIRATES. 
 
 61 
 
 work; yet I 
 
 going asliore 
 
 ch are raruly 
 
 yii^g 
 
 villages 
 
 , dingy sl^^r^- 
 ed about, awl 
 tliey gave ih 
 estial Enipiv'. 
 •hey are, wo\il<l 
 tlieir existence 
 ated along tb 
 
 1 for four day^ 
 sdto somethiiT. 
 ves, had enoiiL'l 
 ale, progress ^M 
 e niglit was tlv 
 seemed at a: 
 Bay. To rea(^ 
 |iio'>y toiled liai' 
 lid be safe. ^ 
 jide of tbat bit 
 jr in a small ai 
 |h had been o: 
 
 rpenter (a Chiv.. 
 limportance in- 
 l:ango junk, wl" 
 
 lis telescope a'^ 
 Is of piracy abo 
 
 The carpenter walked off, evidently in a luiff at the little 
 mijortance attached to his warning; and the suspected junk 
 liroppod anchor alongside of one of our convoy. 
 I Kight fell, and as dark a night as evil-doer could wish. About 
 nine o'clock, while I was trudging up and down the quarter-deck 
 ^ith our captain, our eyes wore dazzled by a flash, followed 
 ^stantly by the report of a gun. AYe stood still, looking rather 
 ijiau saying, "What can be the meaning of that?" Presently 
 Mere came another and another and another of these ominous 
 Hounds. Our captain rushed off, mustered all hands, gave orders 
 |p load all the guns, and clear for action. While this was being 
 ifcne — and it was the work of a very few minutes — the firing was 
 llill going on all around us ; though, whether it was directed 
 Ugainst our ship or others we could not tell. To find myself, 
 ace-loving man as I am, thus suddenly surrounded by "war's 
 rms," was not a little astonishing. Nor was my confidence 
 tort d when, on going into the cabin, I found the first mate 
 sied over the open arm-chest and powder magazine, handing 
 it pistols, muskets, cutlasses, cartridges, and other death-dealing 
 cles. Man of peace though I was and am, I selected a cutlass, 
 nking that in an emergency it would be well to have a weaj)on 
 self-defence. 
 
 hus ai'med, I regained the deck, and found that the firing, 
 ugh less frequent, was still going on. " Fii-e right in amongst 
 m !" was the fiery young mate's exhortation to our old captain. 
 0, no," replied the captain : " when we can distinguish friends 
 
 foes, we'll fire ; but not till then." 
 t length the firing ceased, and darkness and silence returned. 
 we retained the impression that pirates were somewhere close 
 in us, and that we must be on the alert, lest, as is their custom, 
 should stealthily approach, clamber up the ship's stern, and 
 us by surprise. All that night the matches were kept lit, the 
 
BEMARKADLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 ii 
 
 
 men lay by their puna, and the captain and myself paced the deck. 
 A weary, long night it seemed. But day broke at last. Peering 
 throu«»:h its lirst grey light, we counted our jnnks and found them 
 all there. But where was the stranger which the carpenter had 
 ix)inted out as a pirate ? 
 
 " There she is I" cried the mate, " hugging the shore and makinof 
 her escape !" 
 
 The carpenter being called, was asked, " Is that the junk you 
 pointed out last night ?'* 
 
 •' Yes," was the quick reply. 
 
 Several guns were soon brought to bear on the fugitive. Tlie 
 word " Fire !" was given, and our first shot skipped along the 
 waves, but fell short. The second was not more successful. Tlie 
 third struck, and disabled the rover for a time ; but she soon 
 righted again, and stood away beyond further annoyance from our 
 shot. 
 
 The daylight being now clear, the captain ordered a boat to Ix 
 lowered, and boarded one of our junks to inquire into the cause v\ 
 last night's uproai*. He was told that the junk which had jusi 
 sailed away had attacked one of our convoy, but had been beatt ii 
 off with the loss of several men. 
 
 And so ended our night of anxiety and suspense. But do w: 
 suppose, dear reader, that my story is ended ; for on that same duv 
 we saw a steamer rounding that headland which we had laboum 
 so hard to round and had not been able. What steamer she Ava^ 
 or what was her errand to Mice Bay, we knew not. On our arriv;i: 
 at our destination, however, we ascertained that the steamer it 
 question was Her Majesty's Ship " Media ;" and that her missk 
 to Mico Bay was the destruction of a whole fleet of piratical junk? 
 a mission which she most effectually accomplished. Had wt 
 succeeded in our efforts to get into the anchorage of Mico 13iit 
 we and our convoy would probably have fallen a prey (thoujjl 
 
ADVENTURES IN TUE NICODAU ISLANDS. 
 
 G3 
 
 kced tlio ileck. 
 ast. Peering 
 d found them 
 carpenter bad 
 
 re and makinii 
 
 b tlie jnnk y 
 
 ou 
 
 fugitive 
 3pcd 
 
 along 
 
 The 
 the 
 uccessful. The 
 ; but she soon 
 >yance from our 
 
 not an easy prey) to the pimtieal fleet. Let this little iiui<leut in 
 |ny life remind us afresh of the watchful care and merciful dealing 
 Df God. 
 
 ed a boat to Iv 
 
 into the cause oi 
 
 which had jus' 
 
 had been beattB 
 
 so. But do w' 
 m that same day 
 WQ had labours 
 iteamer slie ^va^ 
 On our arrivii 
 the steamer ii 
 that her missio 
 piratical jmife 
 ished. Had vt 
 e of Mico 15ay 
 a prey (thou^i 
 
 ADVENTUEES IN THE NICOBAK ISLANDS. 
 
 Jhb liairbreadth escapes of the servanis of God in the mission field 
 
 fcve singularly illustrated the protecting care of that fatherly iiand 
 
 lich watched over them. Nowhere perhaps has this been more 
 
 (early visible than in the missionaiy annals of the ]\Ioravian 
 
 brethren. The following curious details are given, in "Brown's 
 
 [istory and Memoirs," respecting Mr. Haensel, who laboured last 
 
 i^tury at tliu Nicobar Islands, in India, .. 
 
 '■^ Besides clearing the land and planting it, in order to procure 
 
 themselves the necessaries of life, the Brethren endeavoured 
 
 lessen the expenses of the mission, by making collections of 
 
 ^ells, serpents, and other natural curiosities, which they sent to 
 
 mquebar for sale, as there was at that time a great demand for 
 
 luctions of this kind in various parts of Europe. At tho 
 
 jthren's garden near Tranquebar, Mr. Haensel, after his return 
 
 [that place, had a shop or work-room for the purpose of stuffing 
 
 and other animals, preserving them in spirits, or otlierwise 
 
 Ipariug them for sale ; and he sometimes employed two or three 
 
 ibar boys to assist him. In the neighbourhood of that town 
 
 re is a small serpent, called the split-snake. It is black, with 
 
 rhite streak along its back, dividing tho body longitudinally. 
 
 bite is extremely venomous ; and as it is a very slender 
 
 itm-e, it can insinuate itself into the smallest bole or cranny. 
 
 ithis means it often enters rooms and closets in quest of food, of 
 
 sh Mr. Haensel gives the following example. " There was a 
 
 says he, " in a dark part of my work-room, with a large, 
 
IlEMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 i: ii 
 
 I'M 
 
 fi 
 
 clumsy lock upon it. One evening as I was attempting to open it 
 f suddenly felt a prick in my finger, and, at the same instant, a 
 violent electrical shock, as if I were split asunder. Not tliinking 
 of a sei-pent, I at first imagined that my Malabar boys had, in their 
 2)lay, wound some wire about the handle, and tliat it was by this I 
 was hurt ; and therefore I asked them sharply what they had done 
 to the door. They denied, however, that they had meddled with 
 it ; and when I made a second attempt to open it, I was attacked 
 8till more violently, and perceived the blood trickling down my 
 finger. I then returned into my room and sucked the wound till I 
 could draw no more blood from it ; after which I applied to it 
 some spirits of turpentine, and tied it up with a bandage ; but 
 being much hurried that evening with other business, I took no 
 further notice of it. In the night, however, it swelled, and was 
 extremely painf?-' In the morning, when I went into the work- 
 room, I thought I felt an unpleasant musky smell; and on 
 approaching the door already mentioned, the stench was altogether 
 intolerable. I again asked the boys what nasty stuif they had 
 brought into the room, for they were always playing themselves; 
 but they still denied that they knew anything about the matter, 
 Having procured a candle, I then discovered the cause of all the 
 mischief. About six inches of the body of a young split-snake 
 hung out of the key-hole, perfectly dead ; and on taking off the 
 lock, I found the creature twisted into it, and so 'nuch wounded h 
 the turn of the bolt, from my attempt to open ihv door, that it had 
 <Tied in consequence. It had been entering the room through the 
 key-hole, when I thus accidentally stopped its progress and w 
 bitten by it ; and considering the deadly nature of the serpent's 
 jioison, I felt thankful to God, that, though ignorant of the causf 
 of the wound, I applied proper remedies to it, in consequence o! 
 which my life was not endangered. I have been told that the hit? 
 of every serpent is accompanied, in a gi eater or less degi'ee, by> 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE NICOBAR ISLiVNDS. 
 
 G5 
 
 ig to Open it 
 10 instant, a 
 Slot thinking 
 Imd, in their 
 ft-as by this 1 
 tiey had done 
 meddled with 
 was attacked 
 ing down my 
 le wound till 1 
 applied to it 
 bandage ; but 
 aess, I took no 
 veiled, and was 
 into the wort 
 mell; and on 
 was altogether 
 stuff they had 
 ing themselves; 
 out the matter, 
 cause of all the 
 ng split-siiake 
 
 ,u taking off the 
 ucb wounded I] 
 door, that it ha^ 
 com through U 
 
 : ogress 
 
 and yi^ 
 
 of tbe serpents 
 lant of the causf 
 In consequence o 
 Itold that the hit^ 
 
 less degree, by ^ 
 
 «}nsation similar to an electrical shock. Tlio name of split-snako 
 which is piven to this animal, wo considered as descriptive not so 
 much of its split appearance, us of the singular sensation occa- 
 sioned by its bite." 
 
 Mr. Haensol, in his frequent excursions along the coast, was 
 
 •ometimes benighted, and could not conveniently return home ; 
 
 )tut in these circumstances he was never at a loss for a bed. The 
 
 eater part of the beach consists of a remarkably fine white sand, 
 
 hich above the high-water mark is perfectly clean and dry. Into 
 
 [lis he easily dug a hole large enough to contain his body, and he 
 
 likewise formed a mound as a pillow for his head. He then lay 
 
 [own, and by collecting the sand over him, buried himself in it up 
 
 Id the neck. His faithful dog always lay across his body, ready to 
 
 give the alarm in ciise of the smallest danger or disturbance. 
 
 Though the Brethren had little or nothing to dread from wild 
 
 lasts on the Nicobar Islands, yet in their visits to other places they 
 
 sre sometimes in danger from them. On one of Mr. Haensel's 
 
 yages, either to or from Queda, a Danish ship hailed the vessel, 
 
 id approaching incautiously, ran foul of the stem and broke the 
 
 stafif. Having put into a creek, some of the sailors landed 
 
 a wood to cut down a tree to make a new one. Mr. Haensel 
 
 mpanied them, armed with a double-barrelled gun, with the 
 
 iw of procuring some fresh meat for supper. While they were 
 
 ork, he walked on the outside of the wood eagerly looking for 
 
 e game, and soon discovered among the high grass an object 
 
 h, by its motions, he mistook for the back of a hare. He 
 
 ediately took aim, and was just going to fire, when the animal 
 
 up and proved to be a tiger. Overcome with terror, his arm 
 
 (limtarily sank down ; he stood perfectly motionless, expecting 
 
 the animal would instantly spring at him and tear him in 
 
 Providentially, however, it seemed as much alarmed as 
 
 lelf, and after staring at him for a few seconds, turned slowly 
 
f 
 
 06 
 
 REM.VRKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 
 ilid 
 
 round, and began to creep away like a frightened cat, with hig 
 belly close to the ground ; then gradually quickening his pace, 
 fled with precipitation into the distant recesses of the wood. 
 
 It was some time before Mr. Haensol recovered sufficient pre- 
 sence of mind to trace back his steps towards the beach, for his 
 heart still trembled within him. As he approached the shore, 
 there was a piece of jungle or low thicket before him, and he was 
 turning to the left to pass round by the side opposite the boat, 
 hoping he might yet find some game, when he observed the sailors 
 labouring hard to drag the tree they had felled towards the water, 
 and therefore he changed his course and went to their assistance. 
 No sooner had ho entered the boat, than he discovered on that side 
 of the jungle to which he was first going, a large alligator watching 
 their motions, and which he would certainly have met had he gone 
 by the way he originally intended. Thankful as he was for this 
 second deliverance, he could not help discharging his gun at the 
 animal's head ; and by the sudden plunge which it made into tlio 
 water, and the appearance of blood on the surface as it wa? 
 swimming to the opposite shore, it was evident the creature wa^ 
 wounded. He saw it reach the land and crawl tliroi:Q:h the mud 
 into the jungle. 
 
 After the officers and soldiers who had accompanied the Brethren 
 to the Nicobar Islands w^ere all dead, and it was know.i that tlie 
 missionaries would not abandon their post, the government a; 
 Tranquebar required that one of them should act as the royal 
 Danish Kesident. This office was frequently a source of miicl 
 vexation, and even of danger, to them. The Danes, when the^ 
 formed their first settlement on one of these islands, which thef 
 called New Denmark, had conveyed thither a considerable numbt 
 of cannon ; but after the death of all the soldiers, the can-iagt^ 
 rotted to pieces, and the guns were suffered to lie on the ground 
 On one occasion, a Nacata, or general of the king of Queda, as I 
 
ADVENTURKS IN THE NICOBAR ISLANDS. 
 
 r>7 
 
 t, with hia 
 r his pftce, 
 
 [)0t\. 
 
 fficicnt pre- 
 ach, for l^is 
 I the shore, 
 , and he was 
 ito the boat, 
 ed the sailors 
 i-ds the water, 
 ,eir assistance, 
 .d on that side 
 rator watching 
 et had he gone 
 ,e was for this 
 ^is gun at tlio 
 xnade into tV 
 face as it wa> 
 xe creature wi^ 
 
 .o-hthe mii^ 
 
 ,■^0 
 
 cnment a 
 
 roval 
 
 Led the Brethren 
 [know-A that tlie 
 
 gover 
 
 ict as the 
 
 I source of uinc^ 
 
 anes, ^vhen tk! 
 
 ands, which tk! 
 
 Isiderable numbe: 
 
 3rs, the camag(- 
 
 on the gro^^i 
 
 of Queda, as ^ 
 
 stvlcd liinisolf, nrrivod at Xanoair.vory with a lariro prow, and five 
 of tlio f^ms on board. Mr. Pfaensel boinj^ infonnod of this, con- 
 sidorod it his duty as Eesident to protest against the robbery, and 
 Rp(»ko to him concerning it. Tlio Naoata flow into a violent rage, 
 and began to use threatening language, pleading the orders of his 
 t^BOvereign. Mr. Ilaensel replied, with all the simplicity of tmth, 
 that his priiico knew very well, that as he had laid nothing down 
 there, he had no right to take anything up, and that he would givo 
 %otice of it to the king of Denmark. He then loft him, but after- 
 |v'ards heard that the Nacata threatened to kill him, and thus 
 prevent him from reporting what he had done. The natives also 
 lissured Mr. Haensel that it was the general's intention to murder 
 him ; but that they would stay and defend him. They, accord- 
 ingly, stopped till late in the night, when the Brethren desired 
 jtiiein to return home, but could scarcely prevail on them to go 
 iway. 
 
 \fter they had gone, and just as the Brethren were preparing to 
 
 (tire to bed, they heard a noise without, and immediately after a 
 
 [oknt knocking ot the door. On opening it, Mr. Haensel was 
 
 irprised to see it surrounded by a great number of Malays ; but 
 
 lougli he was much afraid, he a«"' ~ned an authoritative air, and 
 
 ipt his station at the entrance, as if determined not to let them 
 
 The foremost, however, pushed by him, and then the Nacata 
 
 self came forward. The Malays immediately crowded into 
 
 room, and sat down on the chairs and on the floor, closely 
 
 hing him, armed with their creeses or daggers. Though Mr. 
 
 nsel preserved a firm undaunted look, yet it is impossible to 
 
 ribe his feelings on this occasion, as he expected every moment 
 
 11 a sacrifice to their fury. The Nacata then told him that ho 
 
 come to ask, " Whose property the cannon were to be, the 
 
 iident's or his ?" To this question l^Ir. Haensel replied to the 
 
 wing effect: "You have come to the wrong person to make 
 
m 
 
 GS 
 
 REMAUICABLE ADVENTUIIES. 
 
 ill 
 
 
 that inquiry : for I am only a servant of the king of Denmark, a^ 
 you, accordinp; to your o\m account, are the servant of the king^ of 
 Queda. Neither of us, therefore, can determine who shall have 
 the cannon. Our respective masters, and they only, can settle 
 that point. You have told me that you have received orders to 
 hring them ; fj.nd 1 can assure you that I have orders to piotest 
 against it. We have both, therefore, only done our duty. All 
 now depends on this point, whether my kii^ or your king h;w th* 
 best riglit to give orders on these islands, and to claim the property 
 in question." On receiving this answer, the Nacata became quitr 
 furious, and be«:an to talk of the ease with wliich thov could kill 
 them all. Some of them even drew their daggers, and showed tlic 
 missionary how they were tipped with poison. On a sudden the} 
 all rose up, and to his imagination seemed to rush upon liim ; bii 
 instead of this, they quitted the room, one by one, and left hii;i 
 standing alone in utter astonishment at their conduct. 
 
 As soon as they were all gone, and he foinid iiinidelf in safet} 
 Haensel fell on his knees, and with tears in his eyes returntt 
 thanks to God Almighty, who had so graciously heard his prayerv 
 and saved him from tiie hands of his enemies. His brethren, wL 
 had fled into the wood when the Malays first burst into the hous- 
 row returned, and they mutually wept for joy to see each oth^^ 
 still in life. 
 
 The Nacata said afterwards that the Danish Eesident at Nanr;)! 
 wery was a very great sorcerer, for he had tied their hands tb, 
 th^y could do nothing to him. 
 
 m 
 
A FEIIALE CRUSOE. GO 
 
 Denmark, a^ 
 [ tlie Vm^ of 
 3 shall have 
 r, can settle 
 ved orders to 
 rs to protest 
 ir duty. All 
 
 king hiv» th« 
 i the property 
 
 became quite 
 b(.y could hill 
 iid'showed tin- 
 a, sudden the} 
 ipon liim ; hii; 
 , and left hiii^^ 
 
 •t. 
 
 ^elf iii safety 
 , eyes returnee 
 ird his prayer' 
 is brethren, wL 
 into the hous' 
 iee each oth^ 
 
 ,dent at Nanr-.iv 
 their hands tli. 
 
 
 A FEx\IALE CRUSOE. 
 
 One of the earliest travellers on the overland route, in search of 
 tlie north-west pt^issage, was Mr. Hearue, who, during the years 
 from 1769 to 1771, made three several journeys towards the Copper- 
 mine river, in full expectation of finding a northern ocean, the 
 existence of which, it was inferred, would establish the fact of a sea 
 route noith of the great American continent. In those journeys 
 he encountered the most frightful perils and underwent astonishing 
 haidsliipsj not a whit less cruel than the worst of those endured by 
 modern travellers ; and ho manifested unparalleled fortitude in con- 
 tending agaihst them. The third journey to some extent established 
 tlie fact, the verification of which was the cliief object of his expedi- 
 tions, and moreover corrected some importiint errors in the reports 
 of preceding explorers. But we have nothing to say on that subject 
 here. Mr. Hearue's expeditions have long been a dead letter; and 
 we refer to them only for the purpose of introducing an episode in 
 his adventures which strikes us as affording, perhaps, the most 
 [ronuirkable instance of female resources and self-reliance ever 
 reeorried. 
 
 \Vh*^n Mr. Hearue, with a company of Indian guides, was travel- 
 [iw^ m thf- arctic circle, not fiir from the Lake Athapuscow, one of 
 he guides came suddenly upon the track of a strange snow-shoe. 
 .sio;:ish/'d at the sight, in a region supposed to be hundreds of 
 liles from aLv liuman habitation, the Indians followed up the 
 rack, and after pursuing it for some distance, arrived at a small 
 it or ('ai>in, formed of snow and driftwood, where they discovered 
 \oung woman sitting alone. She understood their language, and 
 il not newl much persuasion to induce her to return with them 
 the traveller's tent. Here, c?> being interrogated, she told her 
 )ry ; when it cam^ out that she v as a native of tlie tribe of Dog- 
 

 '' 
 
 \ 1 
 
 r? 
 ii 
 
 It 
 
 
 I 1 
 
 ii :i 
 
 i' '' 
 
 r 
 
 mmmMltllllHm 
 
 i i 
 
 i 
 
 M 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 '0 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 ribbed Tndiaiis, who wore, or lifid been, at fend with the Athapus- 
 cans, and that at an inroad of the latter, dnrin^^ the summer of 
 1770, she had been taken prisoner and carried off to shivery. In 
 the following summer, when the Athapuscan Indians were travel- 
 ling the country, she watched her opportunity, and, on arriving 
 near the place where she was found, managed one night to give 
 them the slip, intending to find her way back to her own people. 
 In this, however, she was disappointed. She had been carried 
 away in a canoe, and the twistings and windings of the river were 
 so many and intricate, and so often intersected each other, and 
 there were so many lakes and marshes, that she found it impossible 
 to pursue her route. In this dilemma, instead of resigning herself 
 to despair, she set about building a dwelling for a shelter during 
 the winter, and having completed it, she calmly tcok up her abodi' 
 and commenced her solitary housekeeping. 
 
 She had kept an account of aU the moons that had passed ; and 
 from this it appeared that for seven months she had not seen a 
 human face, and had subsisted in this desolate region entirely by 
 her own unaided exertions. How had she contrived to sustain life ? 
 When asked that question, she said that when she ran away from 
 her captors she took with her a few deer sinews. With these slie 
 made snares, and caught partridges, rabbits, and squii'rels ; she 
 had also killed a few beavers and porcupines, and was not only not 
 in want of food at the period when she was discovered, but had a 
 tolerably good stock of provisions laid up for future use. When 
 tlie snares made of the deer sinews were all worn out, she ^mm 
 ready with another stock manufactured with sinews drawn from 
 the Jegs of the rabbits and squirrels which had fallen victims to her 
 cunning. But tliis *' exemplary female " had not only well stocked 
 her larder by the exercise of industry and forethought, but had ah 
 taken equal care of her wardrobe. From the skins of the various 
 animals she had caught she had made up an excellent winter suit. 
 
A FEMALE CRUSOE. 
 
 71 
 
 e Athapn?- 
 siimmer of 
 lavery. I^^ 
 were travel- 
 on arriving 
 ght to give 
 oNvu people. 
 )een carried 
 .6 river were 
 li otlier, and 
 it impossible 
 fining herself 
 belter during 
 up bcr abodo 
 
 i passed; and 
 id not seen a 
 on entirely by 
 to sustain life' 
 ran away ii'oui 
 VVitb these sk 
 squirrels; she 
 as not only not 
 Ted, but bad a 
 i-e use. When 
 •n out, sbe Ava> 
 ws drawn fron^ 
 n victims to her 
 
 nly well stodeo 
 bt, but bad alsi 
 Ls of tbe varioiv" 
 lent wmter suit 
 
 'm 
 
 wbicb was not only warm and comfortable, but, according to Mr. 
 Ilearne, was put together with great taste and exliibited no small 
 variety of ornament. " The materials, though rude, were curiously 
 wrou'^ht, and so judiciously arranged as to make the whole garb have 
 a pleasing though somewhat romantic appearance." Her working 
 implements consisted of the broken shank of an iron arrow-head, 
 and a few inches of iron hoop roughly sharpened into a knife ; and 
 ^yith these she had^ constructed not only her dress, but a pair of 
 substantial snow shoes, and several other useful articles. 
 
 The keeping up her fire had given her most trouble. With two 
 sulphureous stones she could, by dint of violent friction and con- 
 tinuous pounding, raise a few sparks so as to kindle a handful of 
 loose fibres of wood carefully picked small ; but the labour was 
 wearisome and long ; and to avoid the necessity of it, she had not 
 suffered her fire to be extinguished for many months. She was 
 never idle. When fatigued with the toils of the chase, or when 
 she was not under the necessity of limiting, she occupied hei-self in 
 peeling ofT the thin inner bark of the willow trees with which tho 
 •spot abounded, and twisting it into a species of twine. Of this sort 
 (of line she had already accumulated several hundreds of fathoms 
 ; in length ; and it was her intention to make of them a capacious 
 inet for fishing, as soon as the frost should break up and the streams 
 [become practicable. 
 
 Of this remarkable female, Mr. Heame, in his journal, says: 
 
 She was one of the finest women I have seen in any part of 
 
 I^ortli America." It would seem that his Indian guides were of 
 
 le same opinion ; and that, while they admired her for the comeh- 
 
 less of her person, they were by no means insensible of the value 
 
 her multifarious accomplishments. There was not a man among 
 
 lem who did not desire to have her for his wife ; so, according to 
 
 le custom of their tribe, they put her up to competition, 
 
 id wrestled in the ring for her — the strongest of the party, 
 
m 
 
 im 
 
 m 
 
 72 
 
 EEMARIvAIU.E ADVENTURES. 
 
 after ho had overthrown all the rest, having her duly assigncxl to 
 him. 
 
 Wc might add a whole volume of reflections upon the cheerful, 
 active, womanful spirit of this female Crusoe, uncivih'zed as sh*.' 
 was, as contrasted witli the desponding helplessness which we too 
 often witness among women, and men too, who, with every motive* 
 to industry and activity, and every encouragement to exert both, 
 lose all self-reliance imder the Ihst shock of adversity, and pass 
 their days in useless indolence and repining. We forbear, how- 
 over: such a history is better without a set moral, and carries its 
 own comment. 
 
 ^.N ADVENTUiiE IN THE DESERT. 
 
 I WAS engaged, some thirty or more years ago, in a military expe- 
 dition into /irabia Felix, tho recollections of which, coming upon 
 me througL this long vista of years, are so vivid, that I cannut 
 help hoping they may possess some attraction for others, especially 
 as encounters have been rare between European troops and tin 
 children of the desert. 
 
 We became, if I recollect right, first engaged in a contest witli 
 an Arab tribe — the Wahabees — through our ally, the Imaum ol 
 ^luscat. This tribe had made frequent incursions into the terri- 
 tory of that potentate, carrying off the flocks, and committing greai 
 depredations. They had also made war with a Bedouin tribe in 
 close alliance with the just-named chief; and for these and other 
 offences, which had been persisted in for many years with impunity, 
 the Imaum determined to attack them in their stronghold, Ben- 
 Boo-Ali, about sixty miles in tho interior, on the borders of tlu 
 Great Desert. 
 
 Of this expedition, as it comes not within my personal recollcr 
 
AN ADVENTURE IN THE DESERT. 
 
 7:^ 
 
 assigned t<> 
 
 lie clicerful, 
 t/ahI as 8h«! 
 a\icU we too 
 jvcvv motiv<' 
 ) exert botb, 
 ity, and pass 
 forbear, lio\v 
 ftd carries \\^ 
 
 , military expf- 
 . coming npou 
 , that I cannot 
 hers, especially 
 roops and tlu 
 
 a contest witV 
 the Imaum ol 
 into the terri- 
 ommitting great 
 3edouin tribe in 
 these and other 
 >vithimpnnity- 
 strongUold, Ben- 
 borders of tW 
 
 •8 
 
 e 
 
 irsonal rcco 
 
 Hot 
 
 tion, 1 Kliall only say that, though rominanded by an able I'ritisli 
 
 ofticcr, to whom no bhimo lias been attached, it signally failed. 
 
 About five hundred Sepoys were surprised by alxnit two thousand 
 
 Wahabees and massacred, and tlio whole enterprise was thus 
 
 defeated. It was to retrieve this reverse of the I>ritish arms that 
 
 the Bombay government resolved to send a rather formidable 
 
 expedition against the offending tribe. It was, if I can ndy upon 
 
 ^my memory, composed of two European regiments, the GOtJi and 
 
 |the 47th, and of two native r<^giments, a force altogether of about 
 
 lAhree thousand men, with several jjieees of heavy and light artillery. 
 
 |The command was given to Colonel Warren, of tlie (J.Oth regiment. 
 
 I A delightful sail along summer seas, in summer weatlier, brought 
 
 us, in little more than a week, to the sjKjt of our disend)arkation on 
 
 the Arabian coast of the l*ersian Gulf. A little town, or rather a 
 
 «|arge straggling assemblage of huts, called Zoar, was the first habil- 
 
 le spot we passed through. Our first encampment was in its 
 
 mediate vicinity. 
 
 Being very young at the time, I liad received, somehow or other, 
 
 impression that Arabia Felix was, as the term seemed to imply, 
 
 arkable for the beauty of its landscapes. Barren mountains 
 
 d arid plains, the blazing sun and interminable desert, the Arab 
 
 his troops of camels, are, to be sure, images of alhux^ment to 
 
 fancy, that have been made familiar to us all. But I had 
 
 cted that these grand naked outlines of nature and of life, 
 
 turesque as they are, would have been filled uj) by details of a 
 
 T charm ; and my disappointment was complete. As there are 
 
 periodical rains here to refresh the earth, as in India, verdun.' 
 
 e is naturally none, except that of the date groves, which 
 
 g up green out of the desert, and defy the heat of the sun to 
 
 or to wither them. Plains of sand, varied only by hillocks of 
 
 , bounded by scorched mountains of baked earth, rifted here 
 
 there bv the heat into wide chasms, down which one mi«;ht 
 
 D -J 
 
 
 
'ill ii 
 
 ' ' 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 •i'i !i' 
 
 imagine, at one time or other, torrents had forced their way, 
 fatigued the sight by their sterile monotony. The Arab and the 
 vulture could alone, I thought, live in the midst of this desolation ; 
 and the latter would doubtless soon wing its flight from sucli 
 sterility, but for the human carnage with which the sands of 
 Arabia are so often moistened. 
 
 The Arab village is always built, or rather pitched, in the midst 
 of a date grove. There was one, a little to the rear of our encamp- 
 ment, in which Zoar lay refreshingly sheltered. This was a;i 
 attractive object, that gave relief to the eye, and afforded an 
 extremely grateful refuge from the united power of the sun and tlir 
 burning sand. Zoar, with its little circuit of vegetation, and it^ 
 garden-plots, which were kept constantly irrigated by rude artificial 
 conduits of water running in all directions from the wells, was. 
 after our first march, as a spring of life in the waste. Two or three 
 mud towers, and a larger construction of the same material, callei! 
 the palace of the Sheikh, ga\ e to the place, at a little distance, ai 
 air of some pretension. The palace had been turned into a bazaar 
 where Scindian and Surat merchants sold shawls, attar of rose? 
 and various valuable kinds of cloths and silks, to be conveve 
 thence into the interior. This close juxtaposition of barbari 
 splendour and barbaric rudeness — ^this display of some of the cos; 
 liest luxuries of civilization glittering in the midst of the mo: 
 primitive simplicities of life — this evidence of wealth and commerc 
 among a people whose wants are the fewest, and whose existenc 
 is the wildest — is a peculiarity of many eastern nations, but, mo? 
 than all others, of the Arabs. The contrast it presented to tt 
 rest of the scene before us, piqued and excited the imaginatio 
 very delightfully. Among the numerous huts huddled promiaf 
 ously together, the men were wandering listlessly about, with « 
 air of indolent fierceness, or lying stretched out at length in tt 
 shade ; whilst the women were mostly employed in spinning ti 
 
AN ADVENTURE IN THE DESERT. 
 
 75 
 
 their way, 
 •ab and the 
 
 desolation; 
 
 from s^cli 
 lie Bands ol 
 
 in tbe «ii<i*' 
 ■ onr cncamv- 
 This ^vas au 
 L afforded an 
 le Bnn and tlv 
 station, and it^ 
 y rude artificial 
 the wells, wa?. 
 Two or thre^ 
 "material, caUec , 
 ittle distance, ai 
 
 .d into a bazaai 
 3, attar of rost^ 
 to be conveye 
 tion of barhaii 
 3ome of the COS' 
 
 ndst of the mo. 
 thandcommeio 
 
 whose existeiK 
 
 ^tions, bnt, moj 
 presented to tb 
 the imagiuatK 
 anddled pvo^^f 
 jgW about, witii » 
 tatlengtb^^^^! 
 .d iu spitin^^g ^ 
 
 coarse cloth of which their garments are made. Our morning 
 walks took us frequently among the female part of the little com- 
 munity, who were at that early hour occupied in one of their most 
 picturesque duties, drawing water from the wells — a task always, 
 from time immemorial, imi^sed on young maidens in the East. 
 But here the damsels wore masks, which were probably no dis- 
 .; advantage to them, as it kept the effect of their graceful figures, 
 I and of the stately gait they had acquired from carrying their 
 I pitchers on their heads, perfect, without counteraction from faces 
 iietter left to an embellishing fancy. 
 
 *; Our commander-in-chief. Colonel Warren, who had brought thus 
 %far his hatterie de cuisine with him, gave us a grand regale on our 
 tarrival. He invited the officers of the whole force to an abundant 
 .arepast he had provided for the occasion. He very considerately 
 Ip^flected, that but for this we should have had to fast much longer 
 an would have been agreeable. We dined picnic fashion, 
 loths were spread on the grass under the cool shade of the date 
 ove. Our luxuries astonished the natives, as much as we should 
 astonished could we witness one of the almost incredible ban- 
 quets which we read of spread by certain Eoman emperors. Such 
 ting they had doubtless never ^ntnessed before. But not 
 erely the inliabitants, by their grave and watchful curiosity, but 
 country itself, in its waste and wild stillness, and the little 
 mlet of huts, disturbed by the unwonted revel, told us verj^ 
 nly that mirth and laughter and jollity are altogether out of 
 sir place among the Arabs in Arabia. 
 
 Whilst we were feasting, our quarter-master and his myrmidons, 
 
 the camp-followers, who were as numerous almost as our force, 
 
 forming our encampment, or rather, I should say — for little 
 
 r was observed — pitching our tents. Then intruded on the 
 
 ce and solitude of nature the many-tongued clamour of Babel. 
 
 Hindostanee, Parsee, Arabic, and European lan^ages were 
 
I 
 
 RF.MAUKABLE ADVEKlX'nliS. 
 
 „ The confused and vnricl 
 ,U mixed and confounded togeth^^^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^^^^.^^ j „ 
 
 „,^eets ot the scene, >n ^'"f "^j v^,t degree novel and exc.tu-;: 
 the princil-al ohjeets, were m *« ^.g ^ ^.j f^„^ „„, p,,. 
 
 fo tU >v'uo co«.d^;«l;^^^ he .ho e,^^^ ^^ ^^^,,^^„,, ,,,, , 
 
 „ic repast-the g""''"'^""; " • t,„es under our eyes. . 
 
 the strange livmg and movmgPK.t.^^ ^^_^^ ^, « t 
 
 In this e'«=''"P'"'"^"^ rrtribe of Bedouin Arabs. We felt 
 tended, waiting to be jmned by ^ *« °^„ ;„ .rf^n at Bombay: 
 
 Uere as perfect a ^'='=""*y;.,;;:,y Carried so far, that, in order t„ 
 ,„d this feeling v^'as ""^0^"?^^'^ ; ht alarms, ^vhich had once o, 
 prevent the recnrrenco of "> « "J ^,,, ordered not o load, 
 Lice disturbed our c»!"P' *\^^ ^'^eh till the Imaum of Ito. 
 
 Our commandant remamed ^^"Tes^mo^. 
 
 arrived, .ho accompan.ed us on our^^p ^^^^^ ^^^^^^^ , 
 
 That Arab pnnce ^^^ ^'^''^ ,„,ro„nded us. His tents w 
 
 the grotesque human scenery that sn ^ ^ no symbol . 
 
 *:cLd agoocl^loaMo our rea iW^^^ ^„, embroidery,.. 
 
 Ugniflcence other *-";J^'/^'^° their summits. But the pnn. 
 
 the yellow banners Aat"""**'^ °^'' ^ constellation of splendoiu 
 
 himself ..as, on all f^^^X^ occasions, on a visit of ee. 
 
 Wl worth seeing. On one <^ J^^ y^ ,t^ff, he received to 
 
 ^onymade to him ^Y °« - W an ^^ ^^^^^^^,,^,^ ten, 
 
 . -x oUfiticr on a mat at tiie uun^*" - gj;, 
 
 visitors sitting on i* *" . , jy q\^x man, oi » *" 
 
 He was represented to "- J/^^^J^iiy are, profusely decc 
 complexion, much darke than Arab J^ ^^^^^^ ^ ^ 
 
 rated all over with 3««clle.7- ^^ j^^ atones, audk 
 
 head-piece ; his sUppevs -^V'^^Ia with other sparkUng ge. 
 Wt and the lult of his sworc»t ^^^^ ^^^^ ^ 
 
 principally diamonds. He mu^ bespangled all over w> h .1 
 Leous idol in a pag*"^ ["^J' -phe „ll salads, usual pP 
 :Xi:--'Strh..donmats,theu^ 
 
 1 
 
AN ADVENTURE IN THE DESERT. 
 
 77 
 
 ,<> 
 
 and varied 
 g camel v-v. 
 °and excitu^:: 
 from our pie- 
 itional zest i 
 
 !S. 
 
 as at first in- 
 rabs. ^Vefe\l 
 311 at Bombay, 
 at, in order t.> 
 ;h bad once oi 
 ;d not to load 
 laum of Huscai 
 
 Lotbci feature oi 
 His tents ^YC^ 
 .d no symbol n 
 embroidery, m^ 
 . ButthepriiK 
 on of splendour 
 a a visit of cere 
 f he received lil 
 cierate-sized teni 
 man, of a must 
 ., profusely decc 
 ,lazed a dianiow 
 )us stones, ami li: 
 er sparkling g^^ 
 
 very ra^^^.f\ 
 all over with U 
 
 tlaams, usual pip« 
 
 ;, tlie usual silona 
 
 and the usiiol few words of hyperbolical couiplimont on pn.vsontation 
 and on leave-taking, constituted the wholo solemnity. It was tho 
 subject of talk among the natives and our camp followers during 
 the remainder of our stay at Zoar, and wonderful were tho stories 
 we hoard of Arab wealth, Arab prowess, etc. 
 
 Thus passed our time away in o pleasant sort of dreamy weari- 
 
 : somcncss, star-gazing at night on picket, and during tho day tiuio 
 
 ? wandering among l)eings who had belonged hitherto, in our minds, 
 
 only to fable, and listening to fables from their mouths (througli 
 
 interpreters) very like their own history. We were aroused out of 
 
 this delicious sort of reverie by an event by no means so agreeable, 
 
 ut which acted as an efiective specific against dreaming for tlio 
 
 ^Vest of the campaign. 
 
 The pickets, as I have said, were not allowed to load their pieces. 
 mi)roving on this order, the captain of one of them had not suf- 
 fered even his sentries to load. The consequence was fatal. Tho 
 ahabees had sent spies into our camp, and liad become fully 
 formed of the defenceless state of the outposts. Seven of these 
 ies had been captured and hanged a few days before, by order of 
 e Imaum. Yet no alarm seems to have been occasioned. Taking 
 vantage, then, of our security, and profiting by as dim a night as 
 cVrabian sky ever affords, a large party of Wahabees, mounted 
 camels and horses, were borne with silent celerity over tho 
 toste; and before the moon, which rose late, could throw any 
 trusive light on their movements, they were in the immediate 
 ighbourhood of the aforea^^id picket. As this outpost was corn- 
 ed of Sepoys, it is very possible some spy might have learned 
 ,t on this spot the very sentinels were virtually disarmed, 
 fving left their horses and camels a good way behind, the 
 abees crept along the groimd from sand hillock to sand 
 [t)ck, burrowing absolutely among the sand, in which their 
 ies were nearly concealed. Tho first sentry whose eyes were 
 
Ji''l 
 
 < i (4 i 
 
 11 
 
 78 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 directed towards them saw only what he thought a moving sand- 
 Iicap. Before ho had time for closer examination, the Arab had 
 hold of his musket, had wrested it out of his hand, and cut him 
 down. Resistance was, of course, vain. Tlie picket was driven in, 
 and, with a wild " hurrah !" several hundred Wahabees followed 
 close at their heels. They had evidently no plan of attack. It 
 was merely one of their nightly forays of destruction and depre- 
 <lation they were engaged in. They fell upon the left of our camp 
 like a sudden hurricane. All the camels or horses they cncoun- 
 torcd they slaughtered or houghed, and every straggling man or 
 little throng of men, sttirting in affright from sleep, they met with 
 incurred instant death. Some of the assailants darted their spears 
 through the tents, whilst others stood at the apertures to sabro 
 those who attempted to escape. Several partial conflicts, however, 
 took place, and two Wahabees were killed. Of our men, in less 
 than a quarter of an hour, there were forty killed and wounded. 
 Among the number oi the former was a son of the celebrated 
 James Boswell, who had a commission in a native regiment, and 
 was much liked by all who knew him. By the time our force had 
 turned out, the enemy had disappeared : we remained under arms 
 for an hour or two, and from this time to the close of the expe- 
 dition were fully on the alert. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The long-expected Bedouins at length arrived. One morning, a 
 cloud of dust along the distant horizon announced their approach, 
 and presently they became more distinctly \nsible. They came 
 galloping forward at full speed. A promiscuous crowd of camek, 
 horses, and asses, whose backs were unencumbered with any kind 
 of housing, bore their riders along with surprising swiftness. They 
 were sometimes seen through, and sometimes lost in, the clouds of 
 
AN ADVENTURE IN THE DESEUT. 
 
 )ving sand- 
 Arab haxX 
 ind cut bim 
 13 driven in, 
 jcs followed 
 
 attaclc. It 
 L and depre- 
 of onr camp 
 they cncoun- 
 rling man or 
 hey met with 
 i their spears 
 ures to sabre 
 licts, however, 
 p men, in less 
 
 and wounded, 
 the celebrated 
 
 regiment, and 
 our force had 
 ,ed under arms 
 ie of the expc- 
 
 One morning, a 
 their approach, 
 [e. They came 
 rowd of camels 
 d with any \-^^^ 
 swiftness. They 
 in, the clouds of 
 
 dust which tlicy raised. Tlioy brandished their swords, souiuiod 
 them on their shields, and shouted exulting! y as tliey advanced ; 
 and their vanity must have been highly gratified on seeing our 
 whole cump turn out from curiosity to witness tlieir approach. 
 
 To these picturesque beings ground on our riglit was assigned. 
 
 Here they settled down in a wonderfully tasteful sort of confusion. 
 
 'Viewed from a little distance, the strange wild figures of the men, 
 
 ImoAing about in warrior p-uisc, or basking at length in the sun; 
 
 ithe sleek and beautiful figures of the horses, standing in every 
 
 ivariety of posture ; the camels, rearing or reposing their awkward 
 
 iiiibrms, or remaining fixed in the patient motionlessness of still lifa 
 
 ?from sunrise till sunset ; the incessant and varying gleam of arms, 
 
 and tlio shifting shadows of objects before only known to us as a 
 
 pageant of poetry — composed a picture so completely Arabian, 
 
 hat I felt the keenest regret at having no knowledge of that 
 
 serene and silent art " that would have enabled me to preserve in 
 
 y portfolio something like a correct impress of its charm. 
 
 Sometimes I would see our red-coats and the Bedouins at a 
 
 imic fight together. But between them there was about the 
 
 mo diflerence in these sham combats as there was between the 
 
 rmidable double-edged Arab sword and the useless spits with 
 
 hirh our officers were at that time equipped, or rather eucum- 
 
 red; and the contrast was still greater in other respects. The 
 
 11 form, muscular, well-built limbs of the desert wuiTior, fidly 
 
 veloped by constant exercise, his sallow complexion, long black 
 
 ir, dark eye of fii-e, set off with the best effect by his tunic, 
 
 ban, and sleeveless cloak ; the spear which he carried in his 
 
 d, the shield upon his arm, with his sword, and his kreese in 
 
 belt — completed a figure which, when mounted on a fine horse, 
 
 really inspiring to look at. But the domestic habitudes of 
 
 e descendants of Ishmael most pleased me. Their animals they 
 
 rded quite as part of the family, partaking with them, often 
 
80 
 
 i:EMAUKAni,K ADVKNTUKKS. 
 
 ifll 
 
 iim 
 
 II 
 
 Vl II 
 
 m 
 
 iVoin the Hiiuw: baskiit, of dates, rice, and dri<Ml fish, to which i\\v 
 <(Uadni[»ed.s BCM.'incd to be, in hick of nioro snituhl(» food, very \v<H 
 rcconcih'd. In the evening, moreover, the primitivo character of 
 these people in their worislii]) came most strikingly out. Separatin^i* 
 into bunds, the Uedouins Avent out, as tlie sun sank beliin<l tlic 
 mountains, to perform tlieir orisons. After casting handfuls <»!' 
 sand upon their hoa<l8, Ihey bent, covering their faces with tlieii" 
 hands, to tli<' earth, and muttered tlieir invocations. They would 
 then all stand up for a while, and go through various prostrations 
 and g(Miuflexions ; whilst the softened, slant streams of the settin;; 
 sun gleaming upon them, would give tlicm a fantastic appearance, 
 But before these living picturi>s, which seemed to have as mucli 
 of imagination as of reality hi them, had lost their charm of novelty, 
 we were on the move. 
 
 The breaking up of our camp wj\s a stirring spectacle. Tents 
 taking down, camels loading, regiments forming into line, officers 
 mounting, the motley variety of Indian, Arab, and European cos- 
 tumes, formed some of the details of its organized disorder. Oiii- 
 sultry marches that followed, with a tropical blazing sun on our 
 heads, and the burning sands under our feet, were the only real 
 suffering we had to endure, but it was by no means a slight one , 
 The fatigue itself of marching fifteen or twenty miles a day, in sucli 
 a country and climate, was much severer than that of a marcli 
 double that distance in Europe. The first day sufficed to peel tlu 
 skin off most of our faces, which wo were obliged to invest in our 
 silk handkerchiefs, to keep them from further scarification, till 
 they got inured to scorchings. In crossing the ghauts (mountains], 
 three of our men, who were in charge of some elephants that haJ 
 been procured to drag a few heavy pieces of artillery through a 
 very difticult pass, died of the heat, which was more than oucc 
 intensely aggravated by a delusive refreshment which sometimes 
 cheated our senses. Once I recollect, during a day of more than 
 
AN AlA'KNTLllE IN TIIK DKSEIlT. 
 
 81 
 
 L) wliicU i\\v. 
 »d, very vvfH 
 cU J! meter of 
 
 Sepuvalin-: 
 : behind Hi'* 
 
 liiuidl'ul!* "i" 
 cs with tlieir 
 
 They would 
 3 prostrutious 
 of the setting 
 c appearand, 
 liavo as iniuli 
 .rm of novelty, 
 
 jctaclc. Tents 
 bo line, officers 
 European cos- 
 disorder. Our 
 ng sun on our 
 3 the only real 
 [18 a slight on( . 
 s a day, in sucli 
 lat of a mardi 
 ccd to peel the 
 ,0 invest in our 
 icarification, till 
 uts (mountains), 
 phants that liaJ 
 ^iUery through a 
 more than ouco 
 ;vhich sometimes 
 ay of more than 
 
 wsiiiil fatl^'iic, a snd<lon exclamation of joy l)urHt from nearly a 
 
 wh()l( 
 
 rho villf 
 
 :ll 
 
 t( 
 
 <ud- 
 
 iieuinp wn 
 deiily hf'f'ore us Its ditto grov(\s, towers, huts, transparent springs, 
 oven camels laden with water, connng out to meet us, were all 
 viviiily portrayed — alas! it was only by our imagination — on the 
 illuminated sands. It was some time before we found out that this 
 «^vas a mirage. Some, whoso fancies were oriental, then conjured 
 fliip moscpies and tanks ; others, streams, villas, and flocks ; and 
 iBome were animated by the inspiring vision of a stag-chase sweep- 
 ing by thi.MU. After this we had another ghaut to pass, from 
 Mwhich wo had an extensive view, and got sight of the dijitant desert, 
 which appeared like a sea in restless undulation. 
 
 I recollect not much more of the incidents of our march to 
 
 J{eii-J>oo-Ali. We had nightly apprehensions of attacks on our 
 
 Jftutposts, but were allowed to advance quite unmolested ; chiefly 
 
 wing, I believe, to the scouting watch our J5edoiiin allies kept up 
 
 V us far round about in all directions. At these outposts the 
 
 |fh(!er on <luty might enjoy the contemplation of sudi a night 
 
 ene as is never seen in a European clime. The intense and per- 
 
 ctly cloudless blue of the firmament, and the brightness of the 
 
 aveidy host, much more numerously visible tlian in western 
 
 ,titudes, canopying uniform barrenness and lifelessness — except 
 
 e little green quiet date grove, with its pleasant noise of water 
 
 liming perpetually from the wells, and the sleeping camp, speck- 
 
 with its white tents the surrounding waste — made the sky so 
 
 lich the absorbing object of attraction, that one miglit understand 
 
 once why the Arabs and Chaldeans were the first discoverers of 
 
 science of astronomy. But, of all the stars that studded the 
 
 It of heaven, the officer and sentinels on these occasions were 
 
 it on the look-out for the one which Milton calls 
 
 " Fairest of staM, lust in the traiu of Night :" 
 
.T^frn 
 
 <' i.i 
 
 S2 
 
 RE^rAKKABLE ADVENTl-JRES. 
 
 m 
 
 .1 
 
 1):^ 
 
 ibr its appearance annoiineed tliat the picket would te sp(,^edily 
 released fi'ora its watch. 
 
 At lust, we camo in sigh', of J3en-Boo-Ali. At Fome distance it 
 Ic-oked very grand indeed, especially afte^L* tho barren, bare, un- 
 siditlv, unadorned traclv wo had waded tlirou^xh. It was situated 
 in the close neigiilx>iirhood of three of the larjiest date groves wt* 
 liad seen, and was sheltered by a fourth, -^vhich lay in tho mitl.st of 
 them. It might bo considered as the great- metropolis of tlie wliole 
 Wahabee tribe in this part of Arabia. Several towers, three or 
 four of them of ample circurafercince and of gi*eat height, rose u]) 
 from among the trees. From the tops of two of them wo dis- 
 cern(Hl the flickering of arms, and men moving about, and were 
 immediately afterwards saluted by a discbarge from one of our owii 
 
 guns, taken from Captain J . At this time the bones of poor 
 
 '{' 's men, whi(»li lay scattered about, bleaching in the sun, tho 
 
 skulls grinning horribly through their white teeth i]X)u us, were at 
 our feet ; and our martial ardour was not a little m(;ved thereby t't 
 retrieve tho fonner disaster. 
 
 This, however, would not have been a very easy task, had th-? 
 Wahabees, trusting less to their personal bravery and prowess, dis- 
 played but ever so littlo skill in mihtary tactics ; and for tli ■ 
 following reason. In order to attack the enemy, or to bring o\v: 
 guns to bear on their to^vn willi any eflect, it was neces.<ary U> 
 traverse th(j largest and most thickly planted of the groves I havo 
 mentioned, hi doing this, it was impossible to pvcserve even au 
 }i|)p(ntrance of rank or order. The trees stood so close togi'tlx r. 
 and the .vands were so Iieavy, that we were obliged to scramlil'' 
 througb tl>era, man by man, the best way wo could. But to thcN 
 natund imp<^dim(mt,s tlio Wahabees had mor<; than suflicient tiii;-^ 
 to add artificial ones. They might have cut down tho trees t»r 
 tliruwn up barricades to block our way ; or, sliouhl sucli precauti('ii 
 be considered too scientific to have been expected from them, thoy 
 
AX ADVENTURK IN THE DESERT. 
 
 
 te spoedily 
 
 clistance it 
 !, bare, m> 
 ,vus situated 
 to groves ny;' 
 the mit-lst of 
 of the ^vllol(' 
 ors, three or 
 light, rose u]) 
 hem wo (lis- 
 ut, and were 
 me of our oww 
 )Oiies of poor 
 I the SUB, tlu> 
 on us, were at 
 red thereby to 
 
 task, had tb-) 
 .1 prowess, dis- 
 aud for tlv.- 
 to brhig our 
 „s ncees:^iiry U' 
 proves I have 
 gcn've even iiu 
 close tog«'tb*r, 
 [kI to scram1)l>' 
 But to th<'^< 
 sumcieut tiiH'' 
 n the trees ur 
 lUeli prceiiutK'ii 
 1-om tiieui, tlu': 
 
 iniicht ut least have planted ainbuslies in the grove, and have kept 
 I up a most deadly fire on m in our passa^ro through it. Tljey suf- 
 Ifered us, however, to advance without the slightest opposition ; and 
 even when our men issued out, one by one, from the entanglement 
 of the wood into the adjoining plain, which was fived right oppo- 
 site by another grove, they continuc'l quite passive. 
 .^ Our whole iVirce was drawn up in two lin^-^ — the Europeans in 
 fr«>!it and tlio Sepoy-} in the rear— -on this plai);, before we saw 
 aught of the enemy. And then, it was «vdy by getting a view of 
 them throngh teh'soopes, from one of th(.'ir towers which we had 
 left Ix'liiud u.<, that wi; found out where th>-^y were. There they 
 were — a thrilling spectacle — in the grove just fronting us, their 
 dark ligures mjide apparent by the glitter of th^*ir arms — a whole 
 trilx', for the last time under the congenial gloom of their own 
 ,. shades, coiled up tor one Ihial spring of desperation, and doomed to 
 M^ within a lew minutes. 
 
 «' A little tiring from a riile comj)any soon brought them out upon 
 ^s. It was a sight to move pity, to behold the wild sortie of tlie 
 )or creatures from their shelter. Th<"r rushed forward, a confused 
 "i^wd, in a frantic manner. At fir<t ttj^'V sliouted, and performed 
 ^tp'iv; like a dance; then they thre'^v k! <nf's at us, and appeared 
 iuite bewildered Avhat to do, when a discharge from a cou[d(^ c^f 
 nr lield-[)i(!ces, that mad<.! fearful gaps in tij<i frightened throng, 
 rought them to the possession of th<'ir senses. They fired off 
 iieir iirelocks, daited their spears before them, aud in a second 
 ;n^ wicidinix, with terriido eil'ect, their doul)le-edired swords on 
 ir ranks. Their onset was so sudden, and tlieir mode of attack 
 le for whi«di European S(ddiers are so litth^ prepared, that they 
 rew tlie left of our front line, on which thoy had i^recipitjited 
 Slem selves, at once uito disarray. IFand-to-hand liglits, in whi(di 
 Me Wahabees hud L^'catlv tlie superioritv in manv instances, took 
 ||nce, and they seemed so far to bo gaining great advantage ; v.hen 
 
84 
 
 llEMARKADLE ADVENTUKKS. 
 
 
 I 
 
 M 
 
 I! 
 
 1. 
 
 our f'ommamlor formed the Eui"oi)oau part of tlio force into three 
 sides of a square, and ordered an iiidoiiendent firing to be kept up, 
 M'hic'Ii soon checked the partial disorder that had taken place. Tlu^ 
 AVahabeos, however, were not yet daunted ; and it was not until 
 they had got uito our rear, and had perceived a body of fifteen 
 liundrcd fresli trooj^s luv^pared to support, in caso of need, tho.S(> 
 witli \vlioni they had already been engaged, that tliey were seized 
 with a panic, flung down their arms, and fled. In little less than 
 lialf an hour the whole affair was over. Of our men, about sixtv 
 were killed and wounded. Of the Waliabees, we counted next dav 
 nearly five hundred, dead or dying on the field of action. 
 
 AVithout further opposition A\orth mentioning, we took possession 
 of Ben- Boo- Ah. Wo slept that night in our cloaks, under the 
 walls. The next morning we visited the place in detail. It was 
 only a larger Zoar ; but its desolation was most melancholy. Jt> 
 empty huts ; the scattered housewife's implements ; the signs of 
 recent habitations, where there were no iidiabitants ; the idle wells: 
 the water-courses unsupplied with water; the trampled gardens, 
 but yest<'rday neat and flourishing ; the desi)air preceding imme- 
 diate destruction, that had thrown everything hither and thither; 
 the groves themselves, so bereft and solitary ; all seemed to mourii 
 tlie sudden catastroplu? ; wliilst our prisoners, huddled tog<3ther, ii 
 wretched band in deplorable plight, looked on with lack-lustre eye 
 at the spoliation of all their household goods and treasures, by thei! 
 careless, joyous, laughing, and joking victors. Everything ])ort- 
 able, of suflicient value, such as spears, kreeses, swords, and sliickl? 
 some of which were inlaid with silver, rewarded the searchers alter 
 such spoils ; and all the large stores of dates, rice, and dried fisli, 
 of late the common property of the whole Wahabee settlement 
 with their hoard of coin and precious stones, by no means imon- 
 siderable, were disposed of to the Imaum, and so converted foni^ 
 into prize-money. The stronghold itself, before we left, was set tin 
 
LOST ON THE FELLS. 
 
 85 
 
 Q into tliree 
 bo kept up, 
 place. The 
 ras not until 
 dy of fifteen 
 i need, t"lios(> 
 ; were seized 
 ttlo less tliau 
 1, about sixty 
 ated nei.t day 
 
 ion. 
 
 ook possession 
 ks, under tlif 
 detail. It was 
 3laneholy. It^ 
 ; the signs of 
 the idle wells; 
 iiplod gardens, 
 •eceding imme- 
 er and tliitliev; 
 reined to mourn 
 lied tog(itlier, n 
 lack-lustre eye- 
 easures, by thoii 
 everything l^ort- 
 )rds, and sIucIiIn 
 le searchers aftir 
 J, and dried ii^li. 
 abee settlemci^t 
 no means incon- 
 •onverted for u^ 
 left, was set tin 
 
 < to and razed to tlie ground by order of tliat princ<\ To gratify 
 
 ' hiui, we remained before Ben-Boo- x\li till the live liuudred <'()rp8e8 
 
 of the slain, bloated to an enormous and frightful size 1 »y the heat 
 
 of the sun, sent forth an odour that would have bred a fever in our 
 
 camp, had we remained much longer. On picket at night, one 
 
 ■; iri^'ht see flights of vultures descending on the bodies, flapping 
 
 Htheir wings over them, whilst their busy beaks were at work. 
 iSuch are the horrors of war, even on a small scale. 
 
 Sunning themselves on the ramparts of Bombay, about a year 
 [afterwards, I saw some of our Wahabee prisoners, and, among 
 jotliers, one of their chiefs, with Avhom I had made some acrpiaint- 
 
 ^ance, and couhl communicate by signs. As the bird in its cage 
 jsings happily of fields and groves, so the Arab, in his captivity, 
 ■golaces himself with the recollection of his arid sand plains, liis 
 .waste ocean desert, and the green spot on its border, his niglit skies 
 
 'Aof transcendent splendour, liis nightly forays and onslaughts, and 
 all the rude simplieities of his wild life. So, at least, I interpreted 
 the kindlinar eve and animated sresticnlation of the old Arab chief 
 have alhided to, when I spoke to him of Ben-Boo-Ali. Tliis is 
 ly last reminiscence of my military adventure in Arabia. 
 
 LOST ON THE FELLS. 
 
 ?HE traveller on the Newcastle-on-Tyne and Cai'lisle Puiilway, 
 saving th(.' line at Ilaydou-bridge, will, if he turn towards the 
 )utli, find liimself very shortly in the midst of sceneiy for wliich 
 railway journey will have little prepared him. Instead of the 
 tile and well-wooded vale of the Tyne through wliich he has just 
 «'(!, a region bare and bleak appears before him. On every side 
 real ridges of hills, or, as they are called in that district, " fells," 
 iu gloomy grandeur, their tops often, even in the height 
 
KEMARILVBLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 of sumincr, covered with snow. As he passes aloiip^ the seein- 
 in^^^ly iutermiiiablo road, a few stray houses, or a smoky smelt-iiiill. 
 are the only signs of life that appear ; and so bare and sterile does 
 evciything seem, that he finds it diflicult to imagine that wealth oi 
 any kind can bo gathered from such a region. Ihit riches, vast 
 and incalculable, are there hidden — beneath the surface of tlic 
 eartli, it is true, but only waiting the jDcrsevering energy of man in 
 be brought forth and turned to good account. He is in the great 
 Allendale mining district, from whence is extracted all the cele- 
 brated lead, which, stamped with the distinguishing letter- 
 *' W. B.," finds such a ready sale in every market. 
 
 After travelling for many miles along an ever-rising road, Ik 
 will reacli the little hamlet of AUenheads, the centre of the miniui; 
 district, and the highest village in England. The inhabitants of 
 tlu's strange corner of the world are distinguished by a primitiw 
 .simj)licity of manners, which very few would imagine could be 
 found in busy England no'"-a-days. It is not my purpose, how- 
 over, to dwell upon tlieii* characteristics. The following narratiw 
 relates one of the incidents which are unhap[>ily ccmimon in 
 Allendale. The snow gathers every winter to an enormous dej>tl; 
 on the sides of the "fells," so that the roads are nearly, if iKt 
 entirely, impassable ; and from tlie deej) " doughs " which abound, 
 it is almost ctTtain death for any one to wander in a snow-storm 
 oft' the proper track. Many unwaiy travellers have thus perished: 
 and thougli the following adventu^'o hap})ily did not terminat. 
 f.itally, its history may nevertheless be of interest to some wlm 
 are entu-e strangers to such scenes, and who, perhaps, could net 
 believe them possible in England. 
 
 About ton o'clock one wintry evening, in the middle of Ihe gro.it 
 snow-storm of December, 18(i0, one of the engineers h-l Allen- 
 heads mines-office, and proccn-dod to his lodgings, a short (^istanc 
 from it. On arriving at them, liowover, he for. . his landlady 
 
LOST ON THE FELLS. 
 
 87 
 
 npr the secMn- 
 vy smelt-mill, 
 id sterile tloi > 
 Lluvt wealth el 
 it riches, vast 
 urtace of the 
 
 ivrv of man to 
 
 p. 
 
 3 in the great 
 
 all the cel- 
 
 ishing letter^ 
 
 •ising road, lu' 
 . of the miniiii: 
 
 inhabitants c»!' 
 by a primitive 
 igine could bt.* 
 f purpose, hoNY- 
 Aving narrativt 
 ly cimimon in 
 enormous deptli 
 ) nearly, if net 
 
 which abound 
 a snow-storm 
 
 thus perished; 
 
 not terminiit. 
 ;t to some wln' 
 
 laps, could iioi 
 
 dU^ ()f the gi'oat 
 leers le ,1 Mlen- 
 a slu>rt (^istaniv 
 iiis landlii>i} 
 
 ijluno-od in the deepest distress. It appeared that her husband, 
 I >vh() had only recently come into the district as a mine inspector, 
 '% and who was quito unacqnainteil with tlio locality, had gone over 
 ? tlie fells into A\'est Allendale about mid-day; and though lie shouhl 
 . liave been at home by six or seven at latest in the evening, he had 
 ' .<iiot yet made his appearance. The enginc^er, who was well awaro 
 lof ihc dangerous nature of the road whicli the unfortunate man 
 Lhud to take, was at once alarmed, and in a Ixiw minutes he had 
 comniissi(jned one of the miners to raise a searching party, and to 
 pro(.'ure as many lanterns for their use as p(jssiblo. This was V(n*y 
 |3 soon accom^)lislied ; for in a village like Alleuhcads, none can 
 If know wlietlier the service, which in such cases they are doing foi* 
 others, n.ay not, ere long, bo required for themselves ; and, con- 
 scious of tliis, tliey are ever ready to afford such assistance. 
 
 JS'o time was to be lost, for all the experienced fellsmen cx- 
 jjprcissed great anxiety respecting the object of the search. lh\ 
 Imight have faHen into one of the numerous gorges abounding by 
 ^the side of tiie path, and in which snow to the dej)th of from twenty 
 ito tliirty feet was accumulated. Once in one of tliese, unless la^ 
 hras immediately discovered, he would bo lost ; for the loudest cry 
 Tor help could not reach any of the few thinly scattered cottages 
 ^hich are to be found in that barren region ; and long ere morning 
 iinv, the falling snow would have buried him and covered every 
 rac(5 of his fate. More probable still was it, that, worn out by his 
 litless battling with the blinding snow, which, above, beneath, 
 id all around, seemed determined to overcome him, ]ui had ven- 
 ned to rest an instant, and in that fatal moment had fallen into 
 lat sleej) which knows no earthly waking. Uiider any eircum- 
 mces, however, it wjis f«'lt that his situation was one of the 
 ttreniest peril ; and within an hour of the iirst alarm b(>ing given, 
 le l)and of searchers, to the number of t' n, set forth (m their 
 illniit undertaking. Shortly alter leaving the village, they re- 
 
^ww^ 
 
 S8 
 
 nEMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 I' I 
 
 ceived an accession to their strength in the persons of three young 
 men, who joined them at a little nest of cottages called Lo^v 
 Houses. Here their anxiety was somewhat relieved by the intelli- 
 gence that the missing man was not alone, a mason employed at 
 the mines having accompanied him on his journey. 
 
 Toiling on through the snow, which was everywhere very deej), 
 the party arrived at a place called Swinhope Head, where a house 
 afforded them a few minutes* shelter. Here a halt was called, and 
 a consultation held as to the most advisable course to pursue. It 
 was resolved to divide the party ; the first six of them to go over 
 the fells to West Allendale, and the remaining seven to stay wher( 
 they then were, unless they received intelligence of the missini: 
 men not having been found, when, refreshed by a few hours' sleeji, 
 they were to i^roceed on a general search. 
 
 The first party at once commenced their explorations ; and now 
 their real difiSculties began. As they ascended, by the aid of their 
 dimly burning lanterns, the snow-laden side of the fell, they had to 
 exercise the greatest caution, lest they themselves should be over- 
 come by some hidden peril. In many places the snow rose like ;i 
 A\'all of dazzling whiteness right across their path, to a sheer height 
 of more than twenty feet ; this, however, was a visible danger, and 
 not therefore so much to be dreaded ; but in other places, where 
 the surface of the snow seemed perfectly level and harmless, deep 
 " cleughs " were concealed, in which the whole party might have 
 lieen easily swallowed up. Often the drifting of the snow had beei. 
 so great, that they were compelled to pass through places wliert 
 they sank in it up to the middle, and from which they coidd only 
 be extricated by the most vigorous exertions, or the assistance oi ^ 
 each other. On the top of the fell, a halt was again made under 
 slielter of a lofty snow wreath ; and the feeble lanterns havin^^ 
 been once more trimmed, and a few minutes' breathing time 
 allowed, the descent was commenced. An exclamation from oiu 
 
LOST ON THE FELLS. 
 
 80 
 
 three young 
 
 called Low 
 
 ,y the intelli- 
 
 employed at 
 
 ire very deep, 
 rhere a hous(; 
 ras called, ami 
 to pursue. It 
 em to go over 
 L to stay >vher( 
 )f the missing 
 sv hours' sleep, 
 
 ions ; and no^v 
 the aid of their 
 ■ell, they had tc 
 khould be over- 
 low rose like a 
 
 a sheer heiglit 
 ble danger, and 
 jr places, where 
 
 harmless, deep 
 vrty might have 
 e snow had been 
 gh places when 
 
 thev coidd only 
 ho assistance oi 
 ain made under 
 
 lanterns having 
 
 breathing time 
 mution from oiu 
 
 )f their number drew the attention of the otliers to the spot where 
 
 ife stood ; and there, to the heartfelt joy of all, some almost 
 
 )bliterated footprints were discovered. An old hand in such 
 
 rattors, warning the others from approaching too near, knelt 
 
 iown and carefully blew the freshly fallen snow from one of the 
 
 rints, and, as the result of his exertions, wtis able to see that ho 
 
 (ho had made it had been travelling in an opposite direction to 
 
 lat in which the searching party was going. From the number 
 
 footprints made, there could be little doubt that the track so 
 
 )rtunately discovered was that of the missing men ; and the 
 
 marchers at once turned round and began rapidly to follow it up. 
 
 heavy fall of snow commencing at the same time, warned them 
 
 li lose no time in doing so, for ere long the marks would be 
 
 itotirely Iiidden. 
 
 1^ But though they had thus hit upon the track of the lost ones, 
 
 leir anxiety for them was by no means relieved. Tliey saw from 
 
 how much they had been fatigued ; and from the way in which 
 
 [wandered about in all directions, thev knew that the unfortunate 
 
 m had become quite confused in their geographical notions, and 
 
 )uld, therefore, be unable to move steadily in the right way. 
 
 lother circumstance added to the anxiety of the searchers. They 
 
 themselves lost tlieir way, and had only a very vague idea of 
 
 sir position. Without more than a passing thought to them- 
 
 res, however, the gallant little band pushed actively on in 
 
 suit of the track ; here and there it became straight and steady 
 
 a short distance, and then resumed its old crab-like mode of 
 
 ression. In these cases they knew that the fall of snow must 
 
 lenly have ceased, and by a momentary glimpse of the stars in 
 
 frosty skies, the two lost ones had been enabled to move more 
 
 lily than usual. 
 
 le lying snow was now very deep, and what was of more con- 
 lence, so soft that tlioy sank in at every step. Suddenly, as 
 
'Wfr 
 
 ^r 
 
 I' 'I 
 
 00 
 
 KEAIAKKAliLI-: ADVENTUKKS. 
 
 they were moving on, one of tlioir number guve a loutl cry, aiid 
 immediately disappeared iKmenth the surface, and was quickly 
 followed by another, tliougli in a diirereut direction. A sml 
 moment was that for the brave little band, for they knew tlicy hud 
 fcitumbli'd among the " peat-pots," * which abound at one part (.: 
 the fell-side. liy dint of vigorous exertions, the imfortmial 
 biurowers were rescued by their happier comrades, thouiih i: 
 no pleasant plight, for the "pots" were more or less filled wit; 
 water, whicli, Avhcn exposed to the keen night air on the dresses o. 
 the party, at oncci froze, and by no means added t'^ their comfort. 
 
 Innumerable Mere the falls of this description which they Lai 
 now to encounter, but they boldly persevered, and discoveiv 
 another trace of the objects of their exertions, in the shape of 
 *• j)eat-pot," into which it was evident tiiey had fallen. The siiu 
 in it was seven feet thick, and at the bottom was a water draii. 
 Had only one man been crossing the fell, he would have had 1 1: 
 jittle chance of saving himself, if he had fallen into such a chasu 
 The " peat-pots " had done the searching party good service, liov. 
 ever, in one respect, for they had sufficed to point out to them tlui 
 real position ; and so, after a few niiuutes' sharp walking, tin 
 recovered the turnpike road, wliich they had the satisfaction ' 
 seeing had also been reached by the missing men. 
 
 This discovery greatly allayed their fears ; and though, c 
 arriving at a lonely cottage, they learned that notliing had U 
 there seen of the wandt}rers, they nevertheless had now good hoj« 
 of their safety. They went on to Carshield, where they thoiij:! 
 it pi'obable they might be found, but without obtaining any tidiij. 
 of them ; at last, however, after a further ^\•eary walk along the n 
 but snowed-up road, they reached the small village of Coalcku: 
 about half-j)ast four a.m., and there, to their intense joy, found tl 
 
 * The " p«'at-pf)t3 " aro luriro pits in the ftll-.sifU's, from whioli the pc;it — wl.k' 
 aliiiubt uuivLTiiilly used fur fuel iu the Uistrict— luw Lccii (lu^j. 
 
LOST ON THE FELLS. 
 
 1)1 
 
 oud cry, and 
 ^vas quickly 
 tion. A sail 
 :new tlicy luu. 
 :it one part*; 
 
 uufortiiiuU 
 ,es, thoivuli i; 
 icss filled ^vit: 
 
 1 tlie dresses u 
 .lieii- comlbrt. 
 kliieb tliey liu> 
 [ind discover^ 
 the shape of 
 leu. The sno 
 
 a water draii 
 1 have had li; 
 ,o such a chasL: 
 lod service, hov- 
 ,ut to thoui tlui 
 3 \valking» tin. 
 satisfaction '. 
 
 and thouj;h, c- 
 )thing had U' - 
 now good hoi"- 
 re they thougi 
 ning any titliii- 
 alk ak)ng the ;> 
 ^^0 of Coalcleu: 
 so joy, found tl 
 
 h the pciil— whkl. 
 
 hjects of all their labour, safi'ly house'd; one of t hem, indeed, was 
 lui; in bed, and ko sound asleep that it was with great dilli<'ull y 
 that he could bo roused. 
 AVliile the worn-out explorers were imrtakiu*:: of some doubly 
 Vccrptublo refreshments, and, in doing so, learning to appreciate 
 the \ahio which all aretie voyagers place upon jjjood tea, they 
 leurd the stoiy of the two missing men, who, it appeared, had lost 
 he track when only a short distance from their destination, an<l 
 bee having done so, had wandered about for hours without recover- 
 ig it ; but at last they had reached the " peat-pots," and, alarmed 
 >y tiie accident with which they had then met, they shoilly after- 
 mrds commenced shouting for help, and, being ha})pily heard by 
 %omQ men dwelling at a little distance, had been rescued by them, 
 4uid after six hours* wandering conveyed in safety to the place 
 rhere they were novf found. They could not believe that they had 
 jturned into West Annandale, for during all their peregrinations 
 ley had been under the impression that they were gradually 
 learing their homes, instead of receding further from them. How 
 my times the kind and ever-watchful providence of God had 
 5cued them from death during that night no mortal can ever 
 low; but it needs not a fellsman to appreciate all the ix^rils, 
 rriole dangers, and " haii'-breadtli 'scapes" wiiich it was then 
 ^eir lot to encounter. 
 
 After an hour's rest, the whole party set out on their way home- 
 
 rd, and on the top of the fell discovered the remainder of the 
 
 ;inal searching party, who, alarmed for the safety of their 
 
 n Hides, had set out to seek them. A little further on they 
 
 jountiU'ed, at short intervals, two more strong bodies of men 
 
 n Allenheads, bent on the same errand ; for the whole of the 
 
 labitants of the village had now become thoroughly alarmed, 
 
 only for the safety of the two lost ones, but of the gallant 
 
 tie party who had risked their lives in seeking to recover them. 
 
 
ff 
 
 'IWf "l '^ 
 
 1)2 
 
 IlE M AUK A IJ LK A D V KNTU R KS, 
 
 'I'lieir spirits riiiscsl by tlio hearty chcors >vith wliich tlicy wciv 
 greeted, tho weary travellers stepped briskly forward, and had tli( 
 [)leasure, at eight o'elook, of restoring to the auxious wives tlicii 
 missing husbands, after having spent nine hours of tho long winter 
 nigiit in recovering them. 
 
 ii'i 
 
 ^IIJ! 
 
 NARROW ESCAPE FRO]M A SNAKE LITE. 
 
 "One summer evening, as I walked alone through tho woods, ,i 
 noise, some yards off to the left, suddenly arrested my attention. I 
 was walking where I had no expectation of meeting with aiiv 
 human being, yet I thought I heard tho voices of people con- 
 versing. I stopped short, and looking round, saw a party a 
 travellers, with a packhorse, passing along among the trees, in ai 
 oi)po8ite direction to myself, about fifty paces on my left. Just;; 
 that part a packhorse was an unusual thing, bullocks bcin: 
 generally used for this mode of conveying baggage. My curiosit- 
 being thus excited, I still continued to gaze. Suddenly I hear 
 tho peculiar rustling that a large snake makes in passing throuff 
 very dry grass. It was as distinct as if my ear were laid close i 
 it. I looked. It was at my very feet. A long brown snako w. 
 uncurling himself and stretching away his lithe and hateful s]i,'i|> 
 from off the very spot on which my right foot would have bee 
 placed at tho very step I was about to make. The bite of tl: 
 species is considered to produce death in two or three hours, an 
 to be so rapid in extending itself through the system as scarcely' 
 leave any hope from tho most speedy excision of the part. 3i 
 consciousness was instantly all about me. I saw that there h 
 been but a sound between me and all that comes after deatii, ! 
 that what it might. It was coming very close to the brink oft: 
 
 i^ 
 
NAr.r.OW ESCAl'K FROM A SNAKH lUTE. 
 
 93 
 
 1 tlioy wcr.^ 
 and ^uu\ tlu 
 I wives tbi'iv 
 5 Imip; wiuUr 
 
 
 BITE. 
 
 1 the woods, ,i 
 y- attention. 1 
 (ting with niiy 
 of peoi^le coil- 
 jaw a party (> 
 the trees, in ai 
 lyleft. J"8ti:: 
 bullocks bcini 
 
 ludden 
 pass 
 
 |cr 
 pri 
 kI 
 
IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-S) 
 
 / 
 
 O 
 
 *<.^. 
 
 ^ MP 
 
 <? 
 
 
 <6 
 
 1.0 ^i- I 
 
 I.I 
 
 2.5 
 
 ■££ I 
 
 
 Ill's 
 
 M 
 
 1.8 
 
 ^ IIIM IIIIM 
 
 
 vl 
 
 
 '^ 
 
 '/ 
 
 /A 
 
 Sciences 
 Coipoiation 
 
 23 WIST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, N.Y. USBO 
 
 (716)»73-4503 
 
 \ 
 
 ,v 
 
 •sj 
 
 \\ 
 
 
 ^^ /^\ WcS 
 
 ■^^ 
 

 ^ 
 
•' iiii'iiiii niniia 
 
 s 
 
 5 
 
 IS 
 
 1 
 
 V 
 
 1' 
 
 i, 
 
 ^^ 
 
 94 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 void abyss, tliat I as yet had as the only representation of futurity. 
 It compelled mo to look fairly into it. I could not liolp thinkin;^- 
 ^vhether I might not have a soul, and whether that soul might not 
 have a God to answer to for the deeds done in the hodv." 
 
 This narrative appeared some years ago in a work entitled, " A 
 Testimony to the Truth," whicli contains the account of several 
 remarkable deliverances which the writer of it experienced in 
 Australia, at a time when he was emerging from the dark and 
 dreary blank of atheism into a life of faith in Christ. The incident 
 referred to was one of the escapes whicli happened to its author 
 just as speculiitive infidelity was on the point of giving way in his 
 mind. It illustrates the coincidence which so often is found to 
 occur between escape from peril and a peculiar state of mind 
 existing at the moment of deliverance in the person rescued. 
 
 "Something," observes the author in question, "was required to 
 stir me up into practical activity. And I think nothing more 
 remarkable in itself and its adaj)tation can be instanced in tlio 
 history of human life than what took place. A series of provi- 
 dences followed, the overwhelming tendency of which will be 
 allowed to have been just what was needed. And what they 
 tended to, they accomplished. For a series of years I met with 
 Fuch striking deliverances in imminent hazards of life, that, unless 
 I had done it wilfully, and had obstinately resisted their admoni- 
 tions, I could not but be aroused to the most distinct feeling of the 
 necessity of determining what was truth, and of acting in conformity 
 to it." 
 
 m 
 
ADVENTUEE ON BEACH Y HEAD. 
 
 95 
 
 AN ADYEXTUEE ON BEACHY HEAD. 
 
 In' tliG lino of loftv cliffs of clialk which form the soiitli-oastcrii 
 lioundary of England, tlie bold promontory known as Loacliy 
 Head is one of the most remarkable. Its elevation from the 
 level of the sea, when it lies calm in the sunshine at its base, is 
 five hundred and eighty-eight feet ; and as the situati(jn of the 
 cliff is one of the most exposed along the whole line of coast, it 
 follows that a moderate breeze suffices to send the waters chaflntr 
 and foaming up its rugged face. It will bo readily believed, 
 thereforCj that in a south-westerly gale gigantic waves come rolling 
 in with indescribable fur}'', bursting in tlmnder against the stupen- 
 dous wall of chalk rock, and throwing sheets of foam half way up 
 its entire heiaht. 
 
 The crest of the cliff is visible far out at sea ; tlie last cxph'ing 
 beams of day linger on its summit, tinting it with a rosy hue when 
 the sun has sunk to rest below the horizon. How manv a wistful 
 eye has looked upon it from the deck of the " outward-bound," 
 
 " Wlieu slow tlio ship her foamy track 
 Ai:;ninst the whul was cleavinLT, 
 Her tlutterhig pendant looking buck 
 To that dear laud 'twas kavhig." 
 
 The young cadet, who has just torn himself from the embrace oT 
 liis widowed mother, has gazed upon it with a full heart as it 
 gradually faded away in the grey of evening ; and then, when 
 returning home after a lapse of twenty or thirty eventful y^-ars, 
 the master of wealth and honours, the well-remembered outline of 
 the cliff has met his eve in bold relief aii^ainst the brif/hteninir skv 
 at sunrise — 
 
 " While hoir.cward'^Kiund with fav'rin,!^ j^'alc 
 The gallant ship up channel stecicil, 
 And, scudding under easy sail, 
 The mighty headland lir^t app;'arc(l." 
 
 m 
 
IlEMARKABLE ADVENT UKES. 
 
 ]>ut anotlior picture still forces itself on the imagination : how 
 often in raging storms, while the good ship, laden with the 
 treasures of the East, and crowded with passengers, has bcdi 
 labouring in the trough of the sea, in the blackness of night ; while | 
 the captain has been pacing the deck anxiously, looking out to 
 ascertain his distance from that dreaded lee shore, a vivid flash has 
 lighted up the towering headland in all its ghostly whiteness! 
 Woe, woe betide the unhappy ship that in such a night has not 
 miles of sea-room ! If once she approaclies that frightful precipice, 
 her doom is sealed. At each successive flash of lightning the 
 stupendous wall of chalk is more vividly revealed ; while sheets of 
 foam are tossing themselves half up the height, and the thunder of 
 the sm-f is heard mingling with the thunder of the clouds, and the 
 booming note of the guns fired as signals of distress. A moment 
 more, and the noble vessel is lying a helpless wreck at the foot of 
 the rock. Such calamities have, alas ! been frequent ; and it was 
 off this point, about three years ago, and within sight of the cliff, 
 that the unfortunate " Dalhousie," bound to Australia, foundered 
 in deep water, when all on board perished except one solitary 
 seaman. The height of the clifl" has been already mentioned — it 
 is five hundred and eighty-eight feet ; but some readers may form 
 a better estimate of its elevation by comparing it with some objects 
 familiar to the eye. Well, then, the cross of St. Paul's Cathedral 
 appears a great height, as you look at it from the foot-pavement in 
 St. Paul's Churchyard — it is three hundred and forty feet ; and the 
 burnished top of the Monument of London is two hundred and 
 two feet from the ground ; but if some magician could take tlio 
 Monument between his fingers and thumb, and place it on the top 
 of the cross of St. Paul's, the height would still be forty-six feet 
 less than the top of Beachy Head, and he must put a good four- 
 story house on the top of all before the altitude of the mighty cliff 
 would be attained. With these preliminary remarks, we will now 
 
AN ADVENTURE ON BEACH Y HEAD. 
 
 97 
 
 •ion: liow 
 Avith tlie 
 has been 
 Tht ; while 
 ing out to 
 d flash has 
 -svhiteucss ! 
 ht has not 
 I precipice, 
 ;htning the 
 le sheets of 
 thunder of 
 ids, and the 
 A moment 
 t the foot of 
 • and it was 
 of the cliff, 
 foundered 
 one solitary 
 entioned — it 
 
 begin our narrative of one of the most miraculous and merciful 
 escapes from deatli on record. 
 
 It was on a fine afternoon in September, in the year 18 — , that 
 three friends, young men, set out from the village of Eastbourne 
 to waliv to Beachy Head, the distance being about a mile and a 
 half. One of the three was a collector of fossils, and he took with 
 him the little hammer which he commonly used for breaking the 
 lumps of chalk which so often contain specimens of antediluvian 
 shark's teeth, echini, and shells. Arriving on the beach belo>/ the 
 cliff, they found the sea almost calm, and wandered about for soine 
 time searching for agates and pebbles ; and one of the three — the 
 fossil-hunter — found among the shingles a large spike-nail, a relic, 
 perhaps, of one of those fearful wrecks which are not uncommon at 
 this awful point. Perhaps he held the old superstitious opinion 
 that it is lucky to pick up and preserve any piece of old iron. At 
 all events, the spike-nail was safely deposited in his pocket, and he 
 wandered on, intently searching for fossils along the base of the 
 cliff, which frowned above his head. Presently he came to that 
 spot where a portion of the topmost strata of chalk has crumbled 
 away, and fallen like an avalanche upon the beach below, forming 
 a sloping rugged wall, to the height of about four hundred feet, 
 with numerous crags and fissures, which might tempt a chamois or 
 a hunted fox to search for a pathway, but which offered no likeli- 
 hood of a hold for human foot. But our narrative will perhaps 
 I proceed more easily and naturally in the language of the adven- 
 iturer himself. 
 
 " I was so occupied with my search among the masses of chalk 
 Iwhich lay at the foot of the cliff, that I had for a full half hour 
 [parted from my companions ; and when I raised myself from my 
 jstooping posture to look for them, I was surprised t find that I 
 tad gradually climbed a good way up a narrow shelving track, 
 diich seemed to present no obstacle to my further progress. ]\Iy 
 
 
 
 Um 
 
 !"'-5l 
 
 If'' 
 
 ■ ^1 
 
98 
 
 REMA11KA15I.K ADVJ'.NTUKES. 
 
 friends woi'o not in sight : iliey luid probably ^^m^^ along tliti beacli 
 b(>yond tho projoctiou of tlio lu-ndland. It wan of no conseijuonce ; 
 I shcridd SCO tliem presently ; and so I continued my ascent, 
 finding ironi time to time specimens which absorbed my att(Mition, 
 and made mo quite regardless of the increasing dilliculties of my 
 path. On a sudd<jn, however, 1 was starthxl by the scream of a 
 seagull, and, looking round me, was at once aware that I hnd 
 reached a point of considerable danger — that, in fact, it would be 
 quite impossible to rctrac^e my steps for the last twenty or thirty 
 feet that I had mounted, and that I had no alternative but to pro- 
 ceed onward, in the hope of finding a track by which I could 
 descend. In this situation I shouted to my companions ; but they 
 were not in sight, nor could I perceive any moving object on the 
 beach, which lay far below, or on the expanse of sea, over which 
 the sun now glared through a rising fog-l)ank in the Avest — a blood- 
 red disk resting on the horizon. No thno was to be lost; it wonlc 
 soon be dusk, and the peril of my path would be increased. At 
 every step my looting became more and more insecure ; and when 
 my hand or my foot loosened a fragment of chalk, down it went. 
 rushing and bounding and disturbing other projections in its course, 
 until I heard the sullen distant crash as they fell upon the beacli 
 below, and read in that sound a warning of my inevitable fate if I 
 should lose my hold. 
 
 " But to retreat was impossible. I had now arrived at a spot 
 where the cliff rose perpendicularly overhead. About twelve or 
 fifteen feet up was a fringe of grass, which gave me hope that 
 there must be a ledge of rock, which would afford a better footinir. 
 But how to reach it? How was it possible I could climb that 
 wall ? And should I fail ? It was an awful moment. We talk of 
 fervent prayer, and sometimes, when ensconced in our cushioned 
 pew at church, we think tiiat we are praying earnestly for blessings | 
 to be bestowed or daiigerii to be averted ; butt ^^ ^ bow dull and 
 
AN ADVENTURE ON BE ACHY HEAD. 
 
 99 
 
 he btnicU 
 
 y aSlH!Ut, 
 
 ,ies of my 
 -eiim of iv 
 lull I ln»'^ 
 b vfo\\\(\ b(s 
 y or lliivty 
 Dut to pro- 
 :5li I could 
 i ; but tliey 
 jcet on tl\o 
 over Nvliicli 
 st — ablood- 
 5t; itwouU. 
 ireased. At 
 ; and wlien 
 3wn it went, 
 111 its course, 
 11 tbe beach 
 ble fate if I 
 
 languid arc such prayers compared with tho aspirations of liim 
 w)^o is standinf^ on the brink of destructiou, alo»),e, as it were, with 
 God, while death hovers over liim in the gathering shades of night ! 
 At such a time ho does indeed feel liis entire dependence on tlie 
 sustaining arm of Him who is ' mighty to save ;' and his heart is 
 strengthened and his ni^rves ar ^ braced while he remembers that 
 ' the Lord is nigh unto all them that call upon him, to all that call 
 upon him in truth.' 
 
 " My situation was becoming desperate, and I liad not a moment 
 to lose. My hammer was still in my hand, and I recollected the 
 spike-nail I had found on the beach, and drew it from my coat 
 l)oc]vet. With the hammer I dug out little hollows in the chalk 
 for my feet, and then, driving in my spike above, I held by it 
 ■while I cut the next ; and the next, and thus I proceeded in my 
 [slow and most hazardous task until, at the end of an hour, as 
 nearly as I could guess, and just as the dim twilight was deepening 
 [into night's darkness, I succeeded in clambering upon the grassy 
 ledge. Success was it ? I was at a height of four hundred feet at 
 least, and above me the cliff rose nearly two hundred more — its 
 )a]d and rugged top rather overhanging the narrow shelf on which 
 was crouching, so that to climb it, even if I had nerves of steel, 
 (V'ould have been entirely hopeless. 
 
 "At this moment my hammer, which had rendered me such 
 
 pood service, slipped from my hand and fell. I dared not watch 
 
 ts fall down that frightful precipice, but I heard its chinMng 
 
 )und as it struck two or three times against projections in its 
 
 )urse ; and it sounded on my ear like a funeral knell. 
 
 " It was now nearly dark, but I could just perceive two or three 
 
 bving figures on the beach, and I shouted to them with all my 
 
 )wer; but the distance Avas great, and the noise of the waves 
 
 )(m the shingle must have drowned ray voice. I saw them walk 
 
 Isiu'clyaway; and commending myself to the providential care of 
 
 w 
 
100 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 ■¥' 
 
 >lim who had preserved me thus lur, I made up my mind to tlie 
 necessity of spending the niglit where I was, with the faint hope 
 tliat at daylight I might bo able, by hoisting a signal of distress, to 
 obtain assistance. 
 
 " But now a new difficulty began to press upon me : hunger, 
 tliirst, and fatigue were taking hold of me ; my hands, swollen and 
 wounded, and my finger-nails, worn down to the quick by grappling 
 with the rock, caused excessive pain. Yet in spite of all this, I 
 began to feel a drowsiness which I dired not indulge; for there 
 was no friendly branch or twig to which I could fasten myself, and 
 to fall asleep on that narrow shelf of rock, would be to fall into the 
 sleep of death. 
 
 " From this imminent peril I was preserved in a manner whicli, 
 Avhile I live, will, I trust, ever dwell in my memory, and serve to 
 raise my aspirations of gratitude to Him whose merciful providence 
 is over . 1 his creatures, and who in this hour of misery and distress 
 sent me help in the form of a friendly sea-bird. A scream, and 
 tlien the flapping of a seagull's wing, roused me from my stupor. 
 It came and went as the bird wheeled round me, and then sailed 
 away far, far below. Another came and went, and came again; 
 and thus the pair hovered about me in the darkness, through the 
 ^^■eary hours of that fearful night, and their screaming notes and 
 the flapping of their long wings, so near me at times as to fan my 
 i'ace, became as music in my ears, bidding me look up to Him who 
 alone had the power to save me from destruction. No doubt thej 
 poor birds had their nest in some crevice near me, and their natural i 
 efforts to scare away an invadei= of their territory, proved thej 
 means of safety to me. And so my eyes were • held waking,' aii(i| 
 I gazed on the deep blue sky, 'fretted with golden fires,' anJ 
 watched the great constellations — the Bear, and Orion, and Cassio- 
 peia — as they moved around their central star, and saw the planet | 
 Venus rise from licr ocean bed and walk the sky in silent beauty | 
 
AN ADVENTIMJE ON UK ACHY HEAD. 
 
 ID! 
 
 j: hunger, 
 wollen and 
 y grapplin?; 
 
 all this, I 
 
 . for tbere 
 myself, and 
 fall into tlie 
 
 inner wbicli, 
 and serve to 
 il providence 
 r and distress 
 scream, and f 
 1 my stupor. 
 i then sailed g 
 came again; 
 , through the 
 ng notes and 
 as to fan my 
 J to Him who 
 Ho doubt the 
 [their natural I 
 r, proved th8|^ 
 I'waking; andi 
 [en fires,' m 
 >n, and Cassio| 
 .aw the planer I 
 silent beauty." 
 
 I looked wistfully toward the caKst, and iongod, oh, how cai'nestly ! 
 for the day. 
 
 " At length the first streak of liglit appeared, and from tliafc 
 moment my eyes were turned constantly to the beach below, in 
 the hope of descrying some fisherman, for I knew that they were 
 often early at their work. The light gradually increased, and I 
 was just able to distinguish objects at that distance, when to my 
 irroat joy 1 saw a man close to the water's edge. Hajjpily therc; 
 was little or no wind, and I had the better chance of making my- 
 self heard. I ^vaved my hat and my white handkerchief, and 
 shouted, using my hands as a speaking trumpet; presently the 
 man stopped, and turning slowly round, stood gazing at mo. 1 
 renewed my shouts, and was answered. The sound of his voice 
 rose distinctly to my ear, backed as I was by the reverberating 
 rock. 
 
 " * Hold on a bit,' he said, * and I'll tell the coast-guard 
 people.' 
 
 *' Here was a ray of hope ; but how could they help me ? There 
 was but one way that appeared possible — they might lower ropes 
 from the top of the cliff; but should I have the courage or the 
 I strength required for the ascent ? Yes, if it came to that, T Qmist 
 jfind resolution to meet a danger which scarcely equalled that to 
 [which I had been already exposed. I knew not how long a timo 
 lelapsed, for I had neglected to wind up my watch, but it seemed 
 [hours before I saw or heard anything of the promised assistance, 
 it last I heard, through the still morning air, a voice above my 
 lead, and, looking up, saw the heads of two men projecting over 
 the edge of the cliff; they were lying on their faces, and were 
 [owering a rope ; it looked but a thread as it swung gently back- 
 ward and forward in the morning breeze, and when at last it 
 cached the place where I stood, it was swinging more than a yard 
 rem me, because the edge of the clifl* projected so much. It was 
 
 'm 
 
 vr 
 
I i 
 
 I 
 
 102 
 
 RKMAnKAHT-R AnVENTTTUES. 
 
 shftkoii, liowovor, by tho mon, [iiul ntill swinpjiim; l)ackwav(l u\u\ 
 forwiinl. Watcliiiiijf my opportunity, I niu^h( tlio end and drow it 
 towards me. It laid a looj) tied in Hailor's fashion, and J know //<(// 
 Nvould not slip; but, alas! tho Jino was hut snuill, and 1 nincli 
 doubted if it woukl boar my woight — ]K5rha}>8 tho mon had nndor- 
 ratod fh((t — I'or T was near six foot lii^li, and woifj^liod nearly lour- 
 loon stone. .1 shouted to the men, ' AVill it Ix^ar mo?' 
 
 " ' Ay, ay,' was tho answer : * have you ji/u^A; •=" 
 
 *' * Ay, 1 hopo so,' was my re[)ly. 
 
 *' ' Then make it last round your body, and Hwhip,' yourself (piii^tly 
 off — steady now I' 
 
 "I question wla^ther any crimin.al, when 8ubmittinf>; his neck iv 
 the ii'eudo {ittentions of the hangman, ever experienced a moiv 
 deadly sensation than I did at that moment. A cold damp stood 
 on my bi'ow, and my ht;art beat audibly as I passed the cord round 
 my chest, and secured it in front with the best knot I was master 
 of Then I knelt and looked up to the clear sky, and in a few 
 ierv(Mit words convmended myself to the Divine i>roteetion. 
 
 *' The men above called out : — 
 
 *' ' Say when you're ready.' 
 
 *' I l()ok(Ml up, waved my hand, and cried : — 
 
 " ' Now !' and feelinj^ the rope tightoninj:^ and lifting me, swrmr 
 myself off from the ledge, keeping my eyes fixed on the clift'asl 
 felt myself slowly rising. Presently there was a stop, and, lookiiiL' 
 up, I found that I was still about a hundred feet from the top. 1 i 
 could see but one of the men's heads, and he was in the act (;1 
 removing a large fragment of chalk which had been disturbed bv 
 the friction of the rope, and which, if it had fallen on my head 
 must have killed me instantly. He did succeed in removino: it;I 
 but, as I afterwards learned, I was held by his one companion 
 alone while his hands wore so occupied. Again I began to ascoiidj 
 and hope returned. I heard the voices of my deliverers as thy 
 
AN ADVKNTITR?': OX PKACIIV IIDAD. 
 
 103 
 
 pivo oju'li othor tlio Avord to linnl to^oUicr; uiul I roao, and roHc, 
 niid Mt lust \\'\\ Tiiy wi'ists sci/cd liy a IVioHlly <j:;nisj), and fell 
 stretched iij)()H IIk! tiii'f'. I just licurd tlir liiinuh that was uttered, 
 and tlieii lor a time lost, ail coiiseiousneKS. 
 
 " W'iieii I rinived, 1 lound Jiiysell" in bed at {i litth' inn, wliero, 
 ]»v th(^ aid ()\' kind and watehl'id eaiv, sncdi as J']n^lish liearts and 
 liands are ev<;r ready to bestow, 1 r(3eovcred in a lew hours from 
 the el'i'erls of my |)eril(ms advcuituro. 
 
 " It may readily be suppo.stKl tliid hucIi an esca|»<? befjinH! i\ui 
 ]irevui]in<»' topic, of conversation, and tluit 1 was I'oi' soino days 'tlie 
 observed of all observers.' The impression left on my own niind I 
 will not pi'etend to (hserilx*. Thosci who read iny narrativf; will 
 believe how earnestly find how lieai'tily at church on the followin;:^ 
 Sunday I joined in those expressions of thaidvl'nlnesH for daily j)re- 
 servatiou wifh which the Liturfj^y abouuds. On that same Sunday 
 evenin*,^ when alone; and unobserved 1 walkcxl at sunset on the 
 beach, and looked again upon the face of that terrible cliff, how 
 deej)ly did I feel tljo force and beauty of those passaf^cs in the 
 IValnis which had already cheered mo durinp^ the hm(dy watches 
 of that memorable nii;lit. With my Psalter in my hand, I lingered, 
 reading- and nnising until tlu; daylight faded; and when the moon 
 rose in calm serenity from the blue horizon of the m ido waters, and 
 ] read figain by her light, words, which though bearing a deeper 
 and loftier meaning, may yet be reverently adopted to express the 
 utterances of a thaidvful and devout spirit, — * Whoso dwelleth 
 under the defence of the Most High, shall abide under the shadow 
 of the Almighty. Ho shall defend thee under his wings, and thou 
 sliidt be safe under his feathers; his faithfulness and truth shall 
 bo thy shield and bu(;kler.' * My soul hangeth upon thee : thy 
 right hand hath upholden mo.' * Thou shalt make room enough 
 under me for to go, that my footsteps shall not slide.' * I will lift 
 \ up nn'ne eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help. My 
 
 
 
 - ■ ':' ,11' 
 
 u. 
 
 i 
 
 n.m 
 
 
) ; 
 
 104 
 
 lir,MAI{KAIU,i; ADVnNTIIIUilM. 
 
 1i(«l|H*()M)t>{lM>V(Mi Ironi i\\o Lonl. will) IimIJi nm<ii' Iwmivcmi and vnriU. 
 Wo will not Hiillor tliy foot lo Im' inn\ rd. niid lio llint k('<<|M>tIi IIum) 
 will not hI(m»|>. The Lord liiiusi'lf is (liy kiM'jJor, t\w Lord in thy 
 dcrcnci* upon thy ri^ht Imiul.' " 
 
 ( 
 
 K()BniN(; Till-: \)\]\\\ 
 
 A STNnUTiAU train of cinMiinslarn (^s occnircil in mo, many yoarw 
 au^o, which may 'mmto <o illnslrato Iho <l('Mlin}j;s of rrovidciicc. 
 Owing to a H<M*i(>8 of lu>)ivy |>nslonil lahonrM, I d(M<m('d it advisahh^ 
 <o r(MM*ni( my (»xhanH((>d HlnMij;lh by Ji chanfj^o of air and Hcrnc, 
 and wns indnccnl lo pay a visit to one whom to hear wa'-s !o adiniiv, 
 antl whom to know was to osl(H'm — my valued friend, tlu> U(>v. W. 
 
 M , of K . Tlu^ good nam welcomed mo with his nsnnl 
 
 hos[>itality, and in the evening soim* hours w(M*o passed in various 
 important discussions. In the course of the conversation T men- 
 tioned a remarkahlo instance of what a[>peared to he an interposi- 
 tion of lVovid(Mice, to which my fri(Mid agreed, adding tliis ohserva- 
 tion : '* The man who watches tho leadings of IVovidenct^ will novcT 
 want a providenct* to watch." 
 
 Some months afttn'wards I was again a visitor at tlio house of 
 my fri(M\d, and said to him, "Do ycai reuKMuher tho ohs(M'vatioii 
 yon mad(^ when I last saAV you — *Tho man who watches tho h'ad- 
 ings o( IVovidence will never want a providence to watch ?' " 
 
 '' Certainly I do ; I remember it well." 
 
 " Then, if you please, I will regard that sentence as your text 
 this evening, and I will ofTer the commcnitary. You uttered what 
 I regard as an important truth, and the circumstances that arose 
 out of the events of that evening will contirm you in your opinion. 
 While we were conversing together that evening, if you remerabor, 
 
iW)MniN(j Tin; i»i:,\n. 
 
 Ut:> 
 
 
 on I 
 
 niiny y<'«^''^ 
 
 it, aiWisjiM'* 
 
 an<l H«'('»'', 
 
 t« to ndiniiv, 
 
 (U In^ »^"'»^ 
 i\ in various 
 
 ion I wrw- 
 ,u intorposi- 
 lis obsorvn- 
 •(> will novi I 
 
 tlio Borv/mt cuino into llio room t** in«|iiin< Cor liow rnniiy visitoivi 
 rlminltcrH wrn^ to l»o pro pared. You roplij-d, *J<\nir,' iiiohtionin^jj 
 
 Ar('lid<»Mvon II , Mr. V , and two otJHT ffontlonMrt, wIhiso 
 
 namoM I now forgot. I iinnx'diatoly ox<dainHd, ' My doir fVimd, 
 thcsn lour viHiiorH nniHt 1m» <M»?nin^ to you l>y a proviouH appoint- 
 nicnt.' Tim auHWor waH, ' Yoh, and tlioy cannot urrivo until a lato 
 hour.* * Thon,* was my roply, 'your Iiouh(» will liav<( onon^li to do 
 to ])rovido for all tlioHc^ ^uoHtH ; and, in conipaHHion to yon, as I am 
 a .self-invited viuitor, I will chan^o n«y [jImii, and not Htay licro thin 
 (ivcnin^.' 
 
 NonaouHo, my doar hIt ; I am doli^lit<yl to son you,* wan tlio 
 
 t< ( 
 
 n 
 
 ply. 
 
 «( t 
 
 To stay would I 
 
 )0 11!. i' 
 
 MiHonablo ; thorofor(\ Icit an ol»stinat< 
 
 man liavo his own way.' 
 
 " ' W(dl, if you go, it in your owu art and deo(l. Will you visit 
 Mr. , tho churchwardon, who is often inrpiirinp; after you?' 
 
 " * No, I will remain with you until nino o'clock, and then taku 
 my leave.' 
 
 "At nu 10 o'clock 1 took my departure to tho hotel to which I 
 waR recommended, and was whown into a private room. Findin^^ 
 it was too eju'ly to retire to rest, I requested of tho waiter the 
 morning or i\iv> evening paper. 
 
 " * I am sorry, sir,' said tho man, ' hut tho paiK3r3 are gone ; it is 
 after the hour at whi(;h wo d(\s|)at<'h them.' 
 
 " * Never mind ; do not take any trouble about it.' 
 
 " The waiter withdrew, and in about a quarter of an hour entered 
 tho room with a paper in his hand. 
 
 " * In one of the supper rooms, sir, I have foimd a paper ; it is 
 about ten days old, but I thought you might possibly like to see it, 
 so I have brought it down.' 
 
 " * Thank you ; it will do very well, I have no doubt, for the 
 I short time I have to spare.' 
 
 e2 
 
 -Hi. 
 
 . 1 
 
 
lOG 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 ||f! 
 
 ifli 
 
 >i: nil 
 
 " I bogan to read, and the first paragraph attracted my attention 
 by its singular heading, namely, * Robbing the Dead.' Its sin- 
 gularity led nie to read il. It was to this effect : That an examina- 
 tion uad been carried on before one of the police magistrates in 
 London, in consequeiKM) of a robbery committed at sea. A gentle- 
 man from Honduras, in a delicate state of health, had taken his 
 passage to England, and during the voyage he became exceedingly 
 ill, and died. Shortly after his death, the cabin-boy observed tho 
 mate enter the gentleman's berth, and, induced no doubt by 
 curiosity, the boy watched the mate, and saw him take a bag, whicli 
 ]ie supposed to contain money. This bag the mate secreted in the 
 hold of the vessel. The cabin-boy immediately informed the 
 captain, a search was made, and a bag of dollars was found neai* 
 tlie spot described. The mate was put into irons, and when the 
 vessel arrived in the river, was handed over to the police. The 
 evidence before the magistrate being conclusive, the offender was 
 committed for trial. "J'he deceased gentleman was a stranger to 
 tlie captain and the crew, and was known to them only by name. 
 1'lus name, mentioned by some of the witnesses, was one that was 
 very unusual, and it occurred to me as I read it that I had heard 
 it before, and that a family bearing it, or something very like it, 
 lived in my neighbourhood; I therefore copied the paragraph into 
 my pocket-book. 
 
 " Early the next morning I proceeded on my journey, and 
 arrived at my own home about mid-day ; but feeling very mucli 
 impressed by the paragraph, I lost no time in proceeding to that 
 part of the parish where the family I had in view resided. It con- 
 sirtted of an elderly lady, the widow of an officer, and her daughters. 
 I paid them a pastoral visit, and in the course of conversation 1 
 remarked, 'I think I have not the pleasure of seeing all your 
 familv ?' 
 
 *0]>, no,' was tho reply; *but I hope you will see tliem nil. 
 
ROBBING THE DEAD. 
 
 107 
 
 attention 
 
 Its sin- 
 examina- 
 strates in 
 A. gentlc- 
 takcn hi^ 
 tceedingly 
 served the 
 
 doubt by 
 bag,wbicli 
 eted in tlie 
 ormed the 
 found neai* 
 i vrhentbe 
 )olice. The 
 ffender was 
 
 stranger to 
 ly by name. 
 
 ne tbat wa? 
 had beard 
 
 very like it, 
 
 •agrapb intu 
 
 and tliat veiy soon, for I am expecting my noble and darling son 
 home.' 
 
 " ' Indeed; then he is abroad, I presume ?' 
 
 " ' Yes ; and we have had charming letters from him ; he lias 
 been employed by the British Government, and he tells me that 
 the authorities have made honourable mention of his name, and, 
 as a mark of their approbation, that they have presented him with 
 iive hundred pounds for a very difficult survey which he has 
 recently accomplished. In his last letter, which was from Hon- 
 duras, lie tells me that he is about to return to England, that he 
 may again see his mother and sisters ; and I cannot express how 
 anxiously we are longing for his arrival.' 
 
 " I made no remark, but immediately withdrew, and dispatched 
 n letter to a relation of the funnily, living a few miles distant. In 
 this letter I gave an outline of the circumstance, and requested his 
 attendance. He arrived, after some delay, and in great tribula- 
 tion ; at tlie same time telling me he had searched for the paper I 
 had named, but that, although it was not a fortnight old, he could 
 not ])r()cure it, and there was no mention of the affair in other 
 ne\vs[)apers. At length, by the aid of a friend, he had found a 
 copy of the journal, and saw at once that my fears were too well 
 founded. He entreated me to proceed with him to the lady's 
 liouse, and to make known, in the most prudent manner I could, 
 the sad intelligence that would bring the bitterest sorrow into their 
 household. I accompanied him as he desired, and made the com- 
 numieatioii, guarding it in every way that truth would permit ; but 
 th(^ instant tlie object of our visit was conjectured, the aged mother 
 fell to the floor, and the sisters of the deceased officer were scarcely 
 I less aiitated. 
 
 "A\'hon the sufferers had in some degree recovered from the 
 |Bhoek which this blow to their fondest hopes had naturally caused, 
 the cpiestion aros(\ What is the Ix'st thing to be done ? I urged 
 
108 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 that their relative should proceed immediately to London, apply 
 at the police office, make himself known to the magistrate, learn 
 all the particulars, and take the proper steps to secure for the 
 widow and her daughters whatever property there might be in the 
 vessel belonging to the deceased. The advice commended itself to 
 the approval of all ; and the gentleman took his place to town by 
 that night's mail, and the next day had an interview with the 
 magistrate, who was disposed to render his aid, but required some 
 additional evidence of identity. In this perplexity the relative 
 produced my letter, which, as it professed to come from the incum- 
 bent of the parish, and bore the proper post-mark, the magistrate 
 accepted as satisfactory, and ordered an officer to accompany the 
 gentleman to the dock, where the vessel was expected to be taking 
 in her cargo. 
 
 " The vessel was found preparing to sail. On the authority being 
 exhibited, the captain stated that he had taken possession of six- 
 teen packages which the deceased had brought on board the 
 vessel, and that, as he knew not the officer's connections, he had 
 fixed his seal upon all of them, that they might remain without 
 loss until a claimant was found. These cases were immediately 
 placed under the charge of the police officer, and in due time 
 opened before proper authorities. Among the papers of the de- 
 ceased was a memorandum as to some funds belonging to him iii 
 
 the hands of Messrs. C and Co., army agents. When the due 
 
 forms of law had been complied with by the widow, as the nearest j 
 of kin, the funds in the hands of the agents and the valuable con- 
 tents of the sixteen packing cases became the property of thej 
 bereaved family; and I have reason to believe that it was found i 
 large enough to make a very desirable addition to the income of his] 
 weeping mother and his sorrowing sisters. 
 
 " Now," I concluded, " all this appears to have been gained for] 
 them by the circumstance of my hearing your servant's inquirjJ 
 
EOBBING THE DEAD. 
 
 109 
 
 m, apply 
 ite, learn 
 e for the 
 be in the 
 id itself to 
 ,0 town by 
 with the 
 lired some 
 tie relative 
 the incum- 
 ) magistrate 
 DBipany the 
 to be taking 
 
 ^lority being 
 fssion of six- 
 board the 
 ions, he had 
 nain without 
 immediately 
 in due time 
 :s of the de- 
 ^g to him iu 
 hen the due 
 [s the nearest | 
 aluable con- 
 jperty of the | 
 it was found 
 income of his 
 
 ken gained foi 
 (ant's inquiry,! 
 
 and then, in spite of your entreaty, resolving not to remain that 
 night as your visitor. Thus, he that watches the hand of Provi- 
 dence will never want a providence to watch." 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 After the accession to the widow's income arising from the dis- 
 covery of her son's property, which I had been providentially the 
 means of securing, I became a more frequent visitor, aiid was at 
 times consulted upon family affairs. The eldest daughter, a young 
 lady of pleasing manners and personal attractions, gave me to 
 understand that she thought of accepting an offer of marriage 
 which had recently been made to her by a gentleman who visited 
 at the house with her mother's sanction, and she added that all 
 points were satisfactory save one, and that one was a source of 
 uneasiness. Her suitor was a confirmed Unitarian, and she men- 
 tioned the subject to me as her pastor, asking for my advice ; but 
 at the same time hoping that, as her mo'her highly approved of 
 the proposed alliance, I should not deem his religious sentiments a 
 fatal obstacle. The mother and the young lady were evidently 
 anxious to obtain from me a favourable opinion. My reply was : 
 ** If you are in earnest in religion, how can you expect the Divine 
 favour to rest upon such an alliance ? No worldly advantages can, 
 in my judgment, compensate for the dangers of such a step. Any 
 person believing in the Divinity of Christ and the atonement 
 offered by him, falls i^to error by forming an alliance with a gen- 
 tleman, however amiable, who spurns the doctrine of the Trinity 
 and the Divinity of Christ: therefore, if my opinion be of the 
 slightest weight in your estimation, I am bound in sincerity, but 
 in all courtesy, to express it, by declaring that I am, and must 
 continue to be, opposed upon principle to the marriage." 
 
 After this expression of my sentiments, in obedience to their 
 
 
:!i:' . 'i 
 
 no 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 request, I still continued ir./ visits as a pastor, but soon perceived 
 that, liowever politely these might be received, th(iy were less 
 acceptable tliaii in former times. Yet, as a clergyman's duties 
 must be discharged in the shade as well as in the sunshine, under 
 painful as much as under pleasing circumstances, I continued tlio 
 visits as before, aiid made known to the young lady the arguments 
 which are employed by our learned divines to confute the errors of 
 Socinianism, and to prove the Divinity of Christ. These arguments, 
 confirmed by reference to the Scriptures, were not without a good 
 effect. 
 
 Not long afterwards sickness entered the family, and the young 
 lady was coniined to her chamber and her couch. I attended daily 
 for a considerable time; at length, observing from her remarks 
 that a favourable impression had been produced on her mind, and 
 that she no longer regarded the arguments which assailed the plan 
 of redemption and the Deity of the liedeemer as innocent, I said 
 to her : " My dear young friend, your views of the i-tedeemer and 
 his great work are far more scriptural than they formerly were ; 
 but they are still defective. I am sure that this illness has in- 
 fluenced your mind, and is, possibly, one of the ways by which 
 Providence is guiding you to a correct knowledge of that which 
 relates to your eternal welfare. You are in earnest, and I fully 
 believe in your sincerity ; and under the conviction that ' none shall 
 seek God in vain,' I declare to you this day, in the name of the 
 living God, that peace of mind and eternal life shall be yours, if 
 you will accept them on the conditions given in that very book 
 which now lies by your side ; and these are the conditions — iiiith 
 in Christ as God over all, and the making a solemn surr'^^der of 
 yourself, and of all that relates to your welfare, for time and for 
 eternity, into the hands of Christ as your Kedeemer. 
 
 On the following day she informed me of her firm determination 
 to relinquish the acquaintance of her Sociuian suitor. Time aftci- 
 
ROBBINa THE DEAD. 
 
 Ill 
 
 wards proved tho wisdom of this decision, for other reasons besides 
 that of his creed. After this declaration of licr Christian faith, the 
 sufferer appeared to make rapid progress in the knowledge of 
 divine things. Among her acts of piety was a deep anxiety, pru- 
 dently manifested, for Iho spiritual welfare of those around her. 
 
 Our duties were now changed ; and I, who was wont to go to 
 her couch as her pastor and teacher, went to leam from one who 
 appeared to live above the world while living in it : a heavenly 
 atmosphere seemed to be shed around her chamber, and even a 
 visitor felt constrained to say, " Surely this is the portal of heaven." 
 Though unable to move from her couch, her faculties were not only 
 uiiimpairad, but they became more vigorous. Her time was passed 
 in prayvT, in studying the Scriptures, and in very pious and liap- 
 j)ily expressed exhortations to her mother, her sisters, and her 
 friends ; and by the beautiful manner in which slie exhibited piety 
 in her own person, she proved a comfort to those who came to 
 comfort her. 
 
 Some time after I said to her and her friends : " You must lend 
 me to some other people for a short time, for I have received an 
 offer of preferment ; and I am c .lious, before I decide, to visit the 
 place." 
 
 She exclaimed, " You are not going to leave me ?" 
 
 " Only," I said, " for about ten days." 
 
 '.rho next evening being Saturday, I arrived at my destination ; 
 and on the Sunday I undertook the duties of the church, intending 
 to do the same on the following Sunday, and return at the end of 
 the ten days. The reception I met with from the patron and others 
 was kindness itself, courteously expressed; there was everything 
 to make the visit agreeable to me ; yet on the following morning I 
 arose greatly depressed, and I announced to my kind host that, 
 although I was perfectly well in healtli, I was so unhappy from 
 some unknoNvn rca-on, that T felt it my duty to return home imme- 
 
112 
 
 llKMAUKAni-K ADVMNTlIinW. 
 
 <Iinl<^ly. All lluMr infliimco \\\\M to rlmtifrn my pnrposo. Without 
 tli(^ losR of a inoincnt \ ninvivd for home ; iiml oil my wuytlio ooach 
 h<(>|)|)(m1 for a limo at tho largo town of J\r : 
 
 A (linirulty lioro ])roHpntcMl itsolf. At a Rliort distanco from tho 
 town thoro resided a lMMi(>volont man, who folt an intoroRt in our 
 pchools, and having somo relatives residing in my parish, I thought 
 it ])ossil)lo that he would give me live pounds towarda the infant 
 sehool if I cimld only sec him, as he knew tln^ efforts 1 was nuiking 
 and the need there was of funds. I walkcvl to an<l fro, perplexed, 
 jis I thought of the want« of the sehool, and also of iho states of my 
 siek fri(*nd. At length, so slrongly did the subject occupy my 
 mind, that I said almost aloud, *• 1 will not call on this good man, 
 hut I will go home to attend to one of (lod's children, and I will 
 trusl to (iod t«, |)rovido for his own schools." 
 
 In a few momenta 1 had resumed my seat in tho coach, under a 
 linn impression that I had deci<led prudently, and that 1 was in tho 
 path of duty. I reached my own house at midnight. 1 found tho 
 family all up at tluit unusual hour ; and tho moment I entered, the 
 cry was, '* \>'o are delighted you have come home : tho young lady 
 lias been sending almost hourly this evening to know if you had 
 returned." 
 
 " S(>ndini;* every hour I" I exclaimed ; " how is that? I stated to 
 the family that I was to bo absent for ten days. Thoro could be no 
 niis\nul(n*stunding, for they all knew it." 
 
 " True ; still, so it is : they have been sending, at the sick lady's 
 voquost, almost every hour." 
 
 Hearing this, without any regard to tho time, I started for my 
 frienil's house, and reached it about one o'clock in the morning. 1 
 found the family all up, and assembled round the couch of the sick 
 lady. The instant I entered, the invalid, gently raising her hands 
 io heaven, siiid, " Thank God, thank God ! my prayer is answered. 
 1 foil sure } ou would come. I am dying ; but I have prayed to my 
 
ItOimiNO TIIR DKAP. 
 
 11.3 
 
 lif'dYonly Fnflirr flint, lin would not hi mo dio until you rrtnmod, 
 Ihnt 1 niif^hi tlinnk yoii JMrforo [ dio." 
 
 Sli(» JIh'U ifiquoHtcMl tlififn to raiso hor a littlo ; and takinf^ my 
 liandH within lu^r own, and looking at mn moflt fiarnoHtiy, nho cricfi, 
 in a voico ro Rolnmn, ho canH'st, yvi bo affnctionato, that it thrilled 
 through my heart, " Oh, my Hpintual father, my hrother, my 
 friend, may the f^ood and great (iod hIeHH you for what you liave 
 done for me. 1 am dying ; yoi I am full of joy and f»eaco. May 
 every mercy and (JVf^ry hleHsing deHcend upon you in this world ; 
 and, Tuy b(^Ht r>f friendn, may you and I Hit down together at the 
 marriage HU])per of the Lamb." 'J'huH saying, she reclined her head 
 on her couch, and died. 
 
 With palpitating heart I returned home, filled with joy, though 
 borne down with Horrow. How great the privilege to receive the 
 fervent blessing of ono whose gentle spirit was jus entering tho 
 regions of light ! 
 
 In tho morning, at an early hour, I again visited the family, and 
 described to them tho sensi) of desolation which I had experienced 
 during my late absen(;e, explaining that, although among the most 
 attentive of friends, this feeling of sadness had caused me to change 
 all my plans, give up my visit, and without loss of time return 
 home. I mentioned also ray deliberation as I passed through the 
 
 town of M , and my resolution, although it might be a loss of 
 
 five pounds to tho school, to go home and try to comfort one of 
 God's servants, trusting the care of the school to God's providence. 
 I then produced a letter whi(;li tho postman had put into my hands 
 as I came out of tho house that morning. The letter was from the 
 merchant I mentioned as likely to contribute five pounds towards 
 the school, if I could have called upon him, and explained our 
 position from want of funds. The loiter was very short, and simply 
 
 said that he had heard of my being in M , and that as I had 
 
 passed through his town without coming to see him, he would 
 
Hi 
 
 wMMAiiKAiHJ-; ai»vii]ntuim;h. 
 
 
 |Minisl) mo for niv no^IrM'f — whicli li(» (\'u\ l»y ruclosiiip; mo (llfy 
 l^onnds. \\\u) slinll sny Ihnl <^hI will not proviMo lor liJM own 
 
 work? I flion nllndod <o llto Inah ji 
 
 ono ol pioty 
 
 tv hI 
 
 low?) 
 
 l.v fl 
 
 IM 
 
 dopnrtod <l\nJn^- Ihm- illnoss. nnd nskod if it woro not flmir wish to 
 nnHnho of \\or {ov Mnd to l)o sluiroiM in lior I'olicilv. I MH^od tlnMn 
 it 1h(»y wonld Mccompunv mo into tlu^ oIIkm* room, inul tlion*, with 
 minds RolomnizfMJ by tl)(* Rootus joiti with mo in kncolinf;' by llio wido 
 of tliiMv 8Min1(Ml sis((M\ ])rMyin!v tliMt l>y ({odw inflnmco npon tlioir 
 n\in<lM thon^ miulit lu» no so)>Mrii<i»)n in nn (»tf»rnnl *vorld. nnd thai, 
 on iho morn of <h(^ rostniv^ction. wo mi^;ht all ariH(» to Ixdiold ChriHt 
 RM onr llodocMncM*. and roccMvo hin hh'ssin^. 
 
 Thoy all r(^adily oonjpliod. and Iho proposal appoannl to hr'wns, 
 roli(M' to thoir sorrow. \\\vY ga/infr upon iho hoaulifnl and ]da('i<l 
 form of tho d(^]>art<nl. wo all l<n«dt in ]>rayor to Christ for his IMvini^ 
 
 hh 
 
 11 
 
 (^ssmg n]>on tho survivors, askm 
 
 that 
 
 wo mi 
 
 f>ht I 
 
 )or()me ]>ai 
 
 V 
 
 rt of 
 
 Christ's holy family, and ho intor<^stod in all tho moroic^a of (iod, 
 obtainod for {h<^ pouit(Mit and bolicning throujrh tho atouonuMil. 
 As (tod works by moans, and as ])rav(M- was otV(Tod to liim vvlio ap- 
 ])oiuto<l it, and who promis(Ml to l)loss it, I humbly trust and boliovo 
 tliat lh(^ " sighiuiis «^f ji (^>n trite lioart and th(» di^sin^s of thorn that 
 woro ]>onitont"' wovo hoard and answon^l on that oooasion; for from 
 lliat day vho atlliotod mothiM* and tho W(V^ping sistorn W(To, in tho 
 mi(ist o( t1\(nr ariof. mad(^ partak<M'8 of tho dojvn-tod sistor's joy. 
 
 " ^bvv T not. mv d(\\,r friond. sa^^ that a most rinnarkublo train 
 of ]n'ovid<MiO(^s has o(Vurr(Hl sin(\> 1 last was your guost?" 
 
 '* I grant it most roadily." said iMr. M . 
 
 " But 1 havo not yot tinishod," was my reply, "for I have a thiid 
 part io add." 
 
 " \Miat was it? 1 long to hear it, ibr ono laet tolls more than a 
 hundred jirgunK^nts." 
 
 *' As you may sup}>i>se, tho litYy iH>uuds ooming to u\o at that 
 inomoT'1. and ur.dor thc^so eirenmstauoos, caused mo more ploitsmv 
 
ItOHDiNn IHK hi Ah. 
 
 llfj 
 
 mo iil'ty 
 
 liiK own 
 
 by <^»'^ 
 
 (M'(\ wiii» 
 |)(»n ll><»iv 
 )Ul OhriHl 
 to l»riiuj; 
 
 his Divine 
 
 ne V"''^' *'^ 
 08 of (Jo<l, 
 
 ni vvlu) a])- I 
 lul V)oliovM> 
 thorn tlii<< 
 ; Tor iVoui 
 
 ot^\ i»^ ^^^*' 
 
 r H joy. 
 
 able train 
 
 |li;in I «'im ('xprcsM, nnd I'xr rrion* tlmii Hit' doiKitioii itst'll' conld 
 cnnlrr, I MUi not vny lond ol' HJIriit n;ruliliid(' : it" vv(! I'crl lliankfid 
 In (Jud or In man, \v«> (Hi^dil, to sliow it, ycai know, f tliankod my 
 licncvolmt friend, of cniiiKf', l)ut F did not. cMid hnro ; for, b^fin^^ 
 ilt'li^djtcd wijh \m ^<'iio?'()Rity, [ niado known in rny pastoral visit?* 
 lliiH kind act, to bo addod to many othorH whioh i\ui |M'0))Io of tJio 
 lown l\ad rccpivod ni bis liandn. Not many monthtt after ttjo 
 nM'(»i(»t of \m b»ttor, a va(aT»py orcnrred in tbo r(!pr(!Rontafcion of 
 l|j(^ fown in parbafncnt, and I nr^od thiw kind-boartc^d man, an I 
 know bo poHRCHMcd (^xporioneo, Joinnn?, and amplo mratiH, to offer 
 liiniMelf as a, earididato; and althon^b I eoiild take no part in tbo 
 clooiion, I lioaHily \viMlie<l bim KnooosM. lU) oomplifid witb tlii.s 
 wImIj, and proKontoil biirisolf before liin ecaiHfitnonts at the proper 
 linio. Mis [xditienl vif^wH were in nnJMon with the spirit of tbo 
 plMoc, and the roHnlt waH nliown in my reecivin<^, a few weeks after- 
 wnnls, what my frir'nd termed an invitation to a p^rmtbiman to dino 
 in a kitclion. I aeooptod tiie invitation, and saw on the oecaKion, 
 ■AH my noi;i,bbours, tbo bite Sir liobort Peel, and otber members of 
 pnrbainont, dining at JJeliamy's, whieb was generally known as ' the 
 l\it(']ion' of tiio old IFonso of (Commons. 
 
 '* Il(»r(\ my ujood sir, <»ndR my ilbistration of your text when wo 
 liist mtt in this room: ' lb' that watehes the hand of I*r(widence, 
 will never want a ])rovidonoo to wateh ;' and I, whilo I live, .shall 
 ever bless God that \ rofid the para<i;raph beaded ' liobbing the 
 
 1)0!k1."' 
 
 m 
 
 tvo a Ibivd 
 lovG tbau n 
 
 Lo at Ibat 
 
 [o plOiUslUX' 
 
no 
 
 nEMARKAHLR ADYKNTITHRH. 
 
 
 lUTRlKl) ALIVJ] IN THE SNOW. 
 
 THE WONDERFUL ADVKNTUllK OF M|{H. KMZADKTII WOODCOOK. 
 
 The l>ost introdiiotion to tho following romurkublo narrutivo will 
 bo tlio l(>ttor of tho clorgymaii by whom it. is communic^atod. 
 **Ono ovoning," ho says, "during tho rociMit snow stonns, 1 rolatiMl 
 tho story which aocompanios this iioto to a large party of frionds. 
 This lod to a jiroposal that I should writo tho narrative for tho 
 Roligious Tract Society. I was unable at once to complete the 
 manuscript, and desired to make the details as accurate as I could. 
 I fhid the story is given, with some variations, in Hone's * Every-day 
 l^ook ;' but I have reason to believe that my narration, with more 
 details, is the most correct. Many a winter evening has been be- 
 guiled, when I was a boy, by the story of Elizabeth Woodcock, from 
 the lips of my now venerable mother, who ' served ' Mrs. W. on thjit 
 well-remembered day, w jus personally acquainted with all the persons 
 mentioned, and heard the story of the dream and the finding of 
 Mi-s. W. from the lips of the dreamer himself, and to whom I have 
 submitted this written account." 
 
 It was still bleak winter on Saturday, February 2iid, 1799. Tho 
 bare hedges and nearest skeleton trees, flecked with partial white, 
 sto(xl out with their branches and stems looking hard and dark 
 against a imiformly leaden sky; the more distant objects of tho 
 landscape assumed the striking spectral tenuity which is observable 
 in a misty atmosphere before the fall of snow ; whilst " the extreme 
 distance," as artists call it, could not be seen at all, the distinction 
 between cloud-land and solid earth being lost in impenetrable 
 vapour. On such a day, few persons would wish to quit their 
 homes ; but the claims of the market were imperative on country 
 farmere or their wives. Produce must be sold and provisions laid 
 in for the coming week. In all weathers it was their habit to go. 
 
 I 
 
mTTMRI) AT.IVK IN Till) HNOW. 
 
 117 
 
 Amon^ tho mark(»t-p;<)iiipf "vvomon, oii ihut day, wns Mrs. Eli za- 
 l)('tli Woodcock, tho wilo of a fiirmcr at Jiiipin^'toii, in ( 'ainl»ii(l<j^c- 
 sliiiv, familiarly known as I'ctty Woodcock. ^\n) net out for 
 (•and)rid^«^ on horsc^hack, duly prepared for tho thrcatcninfjj Htorni, 
 luivinjj; a l(»n^ haskr^t, UHcd for carrying butter in yards (tlie form 
 in which it in prepared for tho Cambridge nuirket), Htrapped btjhind 
 her saddle. 
 
 Safely arrive<l at Cambridf^e, Mrs. Woodcock diH[)OHC!d of her 
 farm j)rodnco in the niarket-placo, besitlo tho well-known llobson's 
 conduit, and then went to a nhop btjhind tho Town Hail, at that 
 tim«^ occupied by ]\L'. ilallack, where she was wont to lay in her 
 weekly store of groceries. She was served by Mr. Hal lack's 
 (laugh tor-iu- law, to whom she was well known, who perfectly 
 well remembers that memorable day, and who describes Mrs. W. 
 us a small handsome woman, with singularly bright and beautiful 
 eyes. 
 
 In those days it was au almost universal custom for travellers 
 and market people to take " a dram," or " something to keep out 
 the cold." Many thought it essential to do this ; more deemed it 
 salutary ; but some even then feared it as a dangerous pra(3tice. 
 Of th(»s(^ last Mr. H. was one. Whilst Betty was giving her orders, 
 and gathering her store into her basket, the snow was falling thick 
 and fast, threatening to come thicker and faster still. "Only 
 look," said the kind and pious man, address'ng his customer — 
 "only look, neighbour Woodcock, at the weather. See what a 
 night this is likely to be. Do make the best of your way home, 
 and don't stay to get your * drops' before you go." 
 
 On leaving the shop, Mrs. W. went to the inn where her horse, 
 " Tinker," was put up, and, meeting with an acquaintance, who was 
 indebted to her husband for hay, received of him a considerable 
 sum of money in the presence of several other persons, and, after 
 the prevailing fashion, " treated " him vdtli a " glass of something 
 
 
 '1 1:1 
 
 ,1 M:? 
 
 4 
 
 n 
 
 i 
 
 I. i 1 
 
Ill 
 
 11M 
 
 l?r'',M MfKAIM.T'l AI'VI'lNTVin'M. 
 
 i 
 
 wnnn." Pi9VfYinvi1in;> i]\o (Vii>ntl)\ ^vM^MiM•>, nl" Mr. II . 'Jh' Ihthi'II' 
 Unvfooh «>f n Rimilur " Iii»n1." Ainnuii llic ^wimoih ]iiiwh( wih u 
 niniMtor looluM}!: Pt'iH^n'''. ^^ll•» n'^^i^lcil \\rv Im iMljiiMf ccrluin pMcIv 
 n^c"^ on liov IhM'HP. inwl wiis Ml»on< (()f>i\(' lur i\ IhmhI Im imninl. 
 Snoh |>oli((>n('M« «l<<wt'r\('<l Roinf r»'«»oL'niliitii. wo llic Mlitmf'or \\\\\^t \u< 
 " <ron<o<l." iind i»Knin HfifvnniMi i«nj()\ m lil<»' imliilfiont'c. 
 
 'PI. 
 
 " i'orliiiod." MM sho pos^il>l\ iniMoJnnl, MpiinMl llii' wi'mIIut, fjln* 
 i)n>nn1<Ml " TinUrr,"* mul hv\ »>!i< on Imt iMMnownnl jonnu'V. 'I'lii' 
 snow «'Mnu» (lown in iiu^wi wwirlH «lrivon Itv iho win<l, IimH' lt|jn«lin(!: 
 Mn<l 8rt«llv Itontnnlnnp; 1l\(» trnvollcv. "I ll\jnl(." rmvm m Rm'vivinjv 
 wifnoPH, " I linvo not P<M»n nnfl) n unoM pjovni Minn' (luH nifi;hl nnlil 
 vooonllv.'' 
 
 l/i)1o Ihnt ovonintr, Mr. IMorviiifilon. n finnxr ol hn|»in(i;(on. nwi 
 Mr, \\oo(lco(»U coniinu: <Von< liiw Jnvni. nmi Iwiilod Iiini. " W liij.lirr 
 nwrtv. n«Mi>])1)onr. tins ronjvli nif^ht ?" 
 
 '• I'm «>oinf> 1o loo)< lor Hojiy." mms llio reply : *' hIio Iimm not ycl, 
 •vol homo ihmx niMrKot." 
 
 "()h."*sni<l Air. iM.. " nc^cM' niin<l ; slio'll Inrn np ri|>l)( «'fionoli |»v 
 i\}\i\ h\. TMonn\vliil(\ ronio nn<i Imvo m alnsw with n\(> " jin invifii- 
 lion linl ioo rosulily !\nN^]><(>(l : lor. h;\i\ ho \<o\\\ <o Iuh ori^innl 
 int<M\<ion. INtr. \V. >vo\il«l most likidy hnv(^ l»rr,\igh< ])t\oU \m wil'o 
 tlint niaht. 
 
 Aflor M >vhil(\ iho hovso owmo homo without his niiRtrosH. i\\u\ 
 iho lMisl>Mn<i. >vith rt ronipHnion mi<l n lnnt(Mn, not lorlh in nnxionn 
 l)ast(^ to s«^«^l\ lior. No trrtco <N>nM ho Und : no tidinju.M conld ho 
 (^btflin : ovon t\\\or pMUg to t''}nnhri<lir«\ In* ronld only lonrn whou 
 Mini lu'tw sl\(^ 1(^1\ the inn. Mor<^ ilisturlx^l thnn ovor. lio took his 
 jounK^y lioni('war«l apiii'., vainly si^irchiiig- jilonjii tho snow-covon^d 
 road tor sian or traoo io 'Aooom^i lor th(^ ndssin;^- wiio. N(M"ahh(>urs 
 woro ronsod, }«orvants S("'nt out, and ss(\Mr<'h <N)n1inn(Ml all niahl. 
 TSoxt morning Mr. \V. ro1nrn<^d io (\'imhrid;r(\ to toll what ho 
 know. an«i to hoar if lhor<^ w<n-<> nnvthinir tliat others conld toll : 
 
Mi'i'ini* Af,ivi IN 'IFr^; know. 
 
 1lf» 
 
 lu>vm'ir 
 
 WIH II, 
 
 inonnl. 
 \\\<^\ I"" 
 
 rr. mIi'' 
 
 ilimlin}^ 
 nvivinp: 
 h\ until 
 
 on. nw'l 
 WlnllMr 
 
 ( n(»i V<M' 
 
 ion^l> l»y 
 
 li\ invilii- 
 
 ori^innl 
 
 luM \vil<* 
 
 nnxioUH 
 
 •n \vlH>n 
 llooU liif^ 
 
 -COVCMTtl 
 
 |l niu'l^l. 
 ivhnt b«> 
 Ilia toll ; 
 
 v»'l Im> Irfii'iioil tut niMi"* lliMii liM hru'W l>««(i(i«>. ^'ofijcfftno wrm 
 IniHy. Vnr H<'V«'nil dny^^! Hif rniintiy wmh rx|»l<»if>r|, (ind wnrcfi wmm 
 iiiimIp ill III'' <iHM)Mir |>i|tHi'H, MH il nvmh (Iikmi'IiI |»'iM^ilil«> flint sorrwof 
 fill' ii'slli'MH liilic iiii('lil liii\f' Im f'li |ffii|il(»l Id |Im> f|»iiili|i> criirM' of 
 kiKIm'iv iiihI miinl»'i. 'I'lu- hIimhi,^''!' who Iih'I mccm 1VI|'<. VV, rcprivM 
 iiioiH'y. wlio IiimI Iwi'm •• lr»'Hf<(l " lor Ihm |ioliffin'H4, wIio Imil HHsiKh-d 
 lln> IohI. woinim in lior Miwltllr, mimI who hnd not. \u'ri\ H(n<'f« acfu or 
 lipurd of, wiiH HnM|UM'1«'<| III' Imvinif; Wfiyhiid nri'l iriiir'l«'r«'d fho fni- 
 vi'lh'i lor Iho RiiKo ol' hor imrRc; niid mm (hJH Him(iinori h(I'1hi<\ fo 
 hi' jiIiiiiHihh' onoufdi. n liiic tiiid «'iy wmh rnis^d Mf'l<r tlir\ Htmn^'o 
 mim, nml '• drlocliv' i," hihIi mm IIimI rhiy coiihl prodii.n, w<to wt 
 lo Hf'oU hJH liMcli. Allor M dny or two, liMffH of Htf'|m wMr- dj^- 
 rnvcrod n«Mi?' n |»ond, jMwonijMmiod with u truil ol hloorl upon tJKi 
 Hiimv. Hero, then, wmh thiTo not m. riiif ? 'I'ho pond wmh KOMrcInd 
 in nvory pnrl.hnt llio wMn-h rovoMh'd nothirifj^ foff»rillrrn KUHpifion. 
 It WMH Koon MHcortMiiifd iliMt. the Mood wmh not, tlint of m, fniird''n'd 
 woiiiMH, JMit oi' M, Hhni|.ditoM'd luiro, which Inid iMcn horno Mlonj.' oy 
 Hoiiio HnffPHHl'iil BporlHniMn. I'lvory onr^ wmh nt (miiII. Thfi wholo 
 week pMHHod mavmv, ho tluit. SiitnrdMV <'M?iio round M;(Min without Mny 
 iinportMnt, diHcovfM'V, nnd withont, llio Hli{(ht«'Ht int'orrmition likely 
 It lend <o ii. Tho ^rronpn ol' pMHHon^orH rh thoy wrrit, to fnarlif-t, 
 the |i;oHRipH [\.\ iho HtnllM, inuh'Hnicn ntid riiHtoniorH in whopM, Mrid mII 
 thn "town Mild ((own" hoHidoH, tMJlo'd over tho wonder, and tho 
 nmjority <'on«'lnd(Ml thai tlio Ml'lair wmh one of IhoHe, perplexinj^ 
 niVHlorica lor which no HutiHructory Holution wuh Jikrdy to ho 
 iouiid. 
 
 On ♦SMturday ni^lit (I'^ohniMiy IMh) Mr. Mom'n^ton, w]if)Ho irifet- 
 iuf.!, with farmer Woodcock a W(!nk het'oro huH hccjn already noticed, 
 was diHtnrb<'d un<i annoyed by a dreain, wliich frf^piontly recurred. 
 Not so I'aHt, my friend. Jf you anticipate m, ntory of a inarvcllouM 
 drcinn, almoHt amonntinii,- to a rovolation, by wlnVdi tho wholo bu.si- 
 iKss was nuido piMin. you will l»<^ (iisMp})ointcd. And you, my 
 
 
 rtll. 
 
 m^ 
 
 km 
 I nil 
 
 «4. :,'S 
 
120 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 11 
 
 friend, who despise dreams altogether, do not venture to say that 
 dreams have never any significance. We know that some dreams 
 have been recognised as Divine in their source ; "for God speaketh 
 once, yea twice ; yet man perceiveth it not. In a dream, in a 
 vision of the night, when deep sleep falleth upon men, in slumber- 
 ings upon the bed." (Job xxxiii. 14, 15.) Although a large pro- 
 portion of dreams may be wholly frivolous, he must be more than 
 sceptical who can deny that some dreams have been suggestive and 
 useful. Mr. M.'s dream had no apparent relation to the lost 
 woman, and yet it led to her being found. The dreamer was a 
 keen sportsman, and his visions of the night were quite in charac- 
 ter. He dreamed that, in a certain spot on the road between 
 Impington and Cambridge, he saw, and traced to its form, a 
 remarkably fine hare. 
 
 On the Sunday morning, having an engagement to dine in Cam- 
 bridge, he set forth to walk thither, the snow-covered ground just 
 yielding to a thaw. He thought no more of his dreams till he 
 came to the place where " he saw in his dream " that the hare ran 
 across. An idle whim, an unaccountable impulse apparently — but 
 was it not rather a providential suggestion ? — induced him to turn 
 a few steps from the road, to examine the position of his visionary 
 hare. He was thus led to notice a small hole in the surface of an 
 untrodden drift of snow, and was startled by hearing a feeble voice 
 in a tone of distress, crying, " Help ! Help !" He looked around 
 for the speaker, but not a creature could be seen. The cry was, 
 however, repeated ; and as he stood more and more bewildered, he 
 was astonished to see a corner of a black silk kerchief thrust up 
 thi'ough the hole in the snow, almost at his feet. He guessed at 
 once whose voice he had heard, and exclaimed, " What ! Betty 
 Woodcock, is that you ?" 
 
 The buried woman was delighted to recognise the voice of a 
 friend, and was now sure of speedy deliverance. " Yes, Mr. M.," 
 
■3WIKD ALIVE ,.V rm SNOW. ,,, 
 
 said she, " indeed it is • ,I„ i.„7 . 
 
 concluded that an immediate and ^'' "'" °"*-" M^- M. wisolv 
 
 ■-/atal in its eiTects. a d w u^drk?''-- *« «- ooM 4 * 
 
 ne^hbour a little longer buriedlve HeTu /'"'" *° '''^^'' ^s 
 her wait patiently for his return. He went 1 ^'' *'''^' "»'' ''«do 
 "th tools, a cart with featherbed Idl** r'^' *" P^''^"^ "nen 
 cord,als for the poor fainting prilt m"''""* ^«'PP»g«. and 
 ^<^_ sent in haste to Cambri£ 1 b'""*''"^ " «^^«nger 
 services were thought 'to Cit ^""^ " tlootor, who,^ 
 
 f « sing.lar sepnllr . M oIIT"""' "' '''^ "P "' g "f 
 to see her in the cart SJ?'. ", ""•^''°»' ""ived i„ L: 
 -re sodden .ith wet, ^nd thl^f W f 'r ^^ «« "ot 
 some wamth, her feet and le^wet e^Tr ?' '""' ^^*»"-^d 
 put to bed, and, being carefully tided f^^^ "'''''• ®'"' ^^^-o 
 her recoveiy. '^ ^^'"^'ed, hope was entertained of 
 
 Having mentioned the finding of Mr, w j 
 descnbe, as afterwards lean^ed fL hSlTh "f ' "^ '"''y "- 
 he the tenant of the strange loda-ino^ T Tf ^'' '"''' '^^ e^me to 
 the Saturday when she k t Cambrii! 'f ""P''^'' ^^ '-?• O" 
 ^oi^h ly set in, encumbering witt S ' *•".! ^""^^-'torm had tho- 
 veUer-s garment, producing idilrf f'T '"''^ "' '^^ *- 
 «nd benumbing the extremifieflttfn '^' ""^'"'"^ *he li,nbs 
 Pers. Mrs. W. felt the cold eJeedSv l^fu''"'^ ^'' «"'P'e wrap- 
 ;- startled (it was said bTromelL,?'''''- ''^-•-« the hoi, 
 because she thought to o-ain ! , '"" "'"'''«° I'ght) or 
 
 ;'ounKintending^olLX:ral h m \^*"^' *«''"- 
 from her. She sought to reo-ain^^t -^rf' '"''"'''''' b^'^e away 
 
 from the road acrfss an "^r field t' '"* '^ *"^»«^ ''^™PtS^ 
 "orth^ast wind, and the hindrance of u^f" °^ ''"' *^'«'<'^»"« 
 Pe-S'sted in pu„ni„ him and b" ^''''''* "" ''^'- «™, she 
 
 Wdle, retmced her ster'in tt 7"!- """"'"'"^ ''^^ '«>« of the 
 -W attempt to leadlrt^tl^rhl: "i^l" -" -^ 
 
 "■ "orn and weary with 
 
 4j 
 
122 
 
 REMAEKA13LE ADVENTURES. 
 
 \m 
 
 exertion, the left foot almost frozen in consequence of having lost 
 her shoe, she felt that she must vest a little. Not pliilosophie 
 enough to know or to fear the consequences, she put rlown her 
 basket from her arm, sat clown (only for a minute) beneath the 
 bank, a little aside from the road, and, letting go the biidle despair- 
 ingly, spoke to the horse. " Tinker," said she, " I am too tired to 
 go any further ; you must go home without me." She then ex- 
 claimed, " Lord, have mercy upon me ! What will become of 
 me ?" In this condition, from the effects of the cold (to say notliing 
 of the drops and treats), she was, no douljt, overpowered with sleep, 
 tliough she fancied she slept but little. Tinker, finding the rein 
 loosed fj-om the hand of his mistress, like a wise beast made the 
 best of his way home, and gave the first assurance that his rider 
 had been lost. 
 
 Had the snow ceased, it is nearly certain that ]\Irs. Woodcoclc 
 would have slept her last sleep that night ; it continued, however, 
 to fall in steady profusion " like wool," so that what had occasioned 
 her danger became her best defence. The sleeping woman was 
 speedily and completely covered with a smooth and stainless coun- 
 terpane, the bank beJiind her causing a drift over the place where 
 she lay, or sat, some six feet perpendicular in depth from the sod. 
 and between three and four feet above her head. What wonder 
 that her husband did not find her as he passed ? 
 
 On awaking from sleep, though her featliery packing yielded to 
 the motion of her arms, she found herself unable to rise. Her 
 clotlies and one leg, Avhich had probably been stretched out wlieii 
 sleeping, were frozen fast to the ground, whilst her breath had 
 formed an opening through the snow. She knew it was Sunda}' 
 morning, because she heard the Chesterton church bells merrily 
 ringing for service. She could plainly hear the voices of pas.sen- 
 gers along the road, and, among others, distinctly recognised tlio 
 voice of her husband. She failed, however, in every effort to ivialco 
 
BUKIEP ALIVE IN THE TSNOW. 
 
 123 
 
 ng lost 
 osopliit' 
 wn Ik'' 
 ath tli<> 
 despair- 
 tired to 
 hen ox- 
 come ol' 
 notliiivj; 
 ith sleep, 
 tlic rein 
 nude tli(5 
 his rider 
 
 ^Voodcoek 
 however, 
 ccasionecl 
 oman was 
 ess coun- 
 lace where 
 the sod. 
 lat wonder 
 
 delded to 
 use. Her 
 out when 
 :eath had 
 is Sunday 
 Is merrily 
 )f passen- 
 Inised tlio 
 It to r.iako 
 
 lieiself lieard. As time wore on, she perceived the darkness of the 
 closing night, and tlie light of each returning day. She gradually 
 scooped away the snow, and fed herself with it ; thus at length 
 forming a sort of cave corresponding in size with the reach of her 
 arm. 
 
 With difficulty she took from her pocket an almanack, to dis- 
 cover the time of the new moon, deriving some hope and conso- 
 lation from the prospect of relief which she supposed the chang(^ 
 would bring. She also ate a few lozenges she had with her, and 
 occasionally refreshed herself with a pinch of snuff from a box she 
 always carried. 
 
 Day after day and night after night she dwelt in her frost-built 
 hut, distinctly noting the alternations of light and darkness, hearing 
 the morning and evening bells of her own and neighbouring vil- 
 lages, listening to the bleating of sheep, the barking of dogs, and 
 the sound of carriages along the road, besides overhearing a con- 
 versation between two gipsies about a donkey they had lost. When 
 her left hand began to swell, she carefully removed two rings (she 
 liad been twice married), and put them along with some money 
 into a small box to take care of them. She frequently shouted ; 
 but the snow so stifled the sound that no one heard Ik.^', not even 
 the gipsies, who came nearest of any. 
 
 On the second Sunday after her disastrous journey, when the 
 Cliesterton ringers struck out their peal, she knew that the eighth 
 day of her imprisonment was come, and almost despaired of deli- 
 verance, when Mr. M. turned aside to look for the place of his 
 visionary game. Unable to reach with her hand the opening in 
 the snow^, she broke off a twig beside her, and thrusting it through 
 with the appended kerchief, thus gave signal of her miserable 
 plight. 
 
 About the time the congregations were breaking up, the tidings 
 reached Cambridge that j\lrs. Woodcock had been found alive in a 
 
 U .) 
 
 VhM 
 
 pit:' 
 
 I, 
 
 li,.. 
 
! 
 
 i 
 
 124 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 m 
 
 snow-drift. The excitement on this news exceeded that which hud 
 been occasioned by the report of lier being lost, so that crowds 
 resorted to the spot where she had lain, to verify what they had 
 heard. 
 
 For a time the case of this remarkable patient was not consi- 
 dered desperate ; but, unfortunately, she became " the lion " of the 
 neighbourhood. Troops of visitors thronged the house, to see the 
 woman who had passed so many days under the snow. The excite- 
 ment occasioned by too much company was itself unfavourable, 
 rendering the sufferer liable to fever. Each visitor leaving some 
 gratuity, encouragement was given to " drinking healths " and cups 
 of congratulation, probably tempting the patient herself to indul- 
 gence ill suited to her condition. Be this as it may, the feet 
 inflamed fi'om the violent effect of cold and frost-bite, and mortifi- 
 cation afterwards supervening, she lost all the toes, and the inte- 
 guments from the sole of one foot. In this mutilated state, though 
 her life was saved, she was quite unfit to attend to domestic duties ; 
 and her constitution had been so much injured, that in five months 
 from the time of her living burial she was consigned to a longer 
 sleep and a more permanent grave than beneath the snow. She 
 died on the 13th of July, 1799. 
 
 This story was regarded by many as a newspaper fiction. Only 
 a short time after its publication, Mr. Sole, of Caldecot, being in 
 an inn at Bath, heard a company of travellers express more than 
 grave doubts about the newspaper reports ; but when he assured 
 them that he lived in the neighbourhood, knew all the persons, 
 and was acquainted with all the facts, his statement was met by 
 roars of derisive laughter. " You must not expect," said his fellow- 
 travellers, " that we are so simple as to swallow such an incredible 
 tale." 
 
 An odd scrap of a ballad made on the occasion has been pre- 
 served : — 
 
AN ADVENTURE IN ARRAN. 125 
 
 " She was in prison us you see, 
 All in a cave of snow ; 
 And she could not relieved be. 
 Though she was frozen so. 
 
 Ah, well-a-day ! 
 
 " For she was all froze in with frost. 
 Eight days and nights, poor soul ; 
 But when they gave her up for lost. 
 They found her down the hole. 
 Ah, well-a-day ! 
 
 The reader may perhaps inquire whether so mar\^ellous a deli- 
 verance from speedy death was not followed by penitence and 
 prayer, and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, as a preparation for 
 eternity. Her restoration must have been like " life from the 
 dead," and it would be pleasant indeed to know that, in the best 
 sense, this buried woman had been raised up to " walk in newness 
 of life," and through Jesus Christ to enjoy life eternal. Of this, 
 however, I can say nothing. Let those who read see that they do 
 at once what they think Mrs. Woodcock ought to have done : — 
 "Yield yourselves unto God, as those that are alive from the 
 dead." 
 
 1 
 
 AN ADVENTUKE IN AKRAN. 
 
 It was early on a lovely autumnal morning, in the year 18 — , that 
 
 Ronald M'B , a small sheep-farmer in the northern district of 
 
 the Island of Arran, in the Western Highlands, left his home,, 
 attended by two faithful collie dogs, for the purpose of gathering 
 some sheep, which were pasturing on a secluded hill at the distance 
 of several miles from the farmstead. Though early in the fall, 
 there was just sufficient sharpness in the atmosphere — the result of 
 the slight frost of the previous evening — to render the exercise of 
 walking pleasant and exhilarating. Ronald felt and appreciated 
 the influence of the time and scene ; for he was a man of much 
 
 
 m 
 
 
 m 
 
 * 1*11 
 
126 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 !i|. 
 
 more than the average intelligence of his class, and a devout ad- 
 mirer of natm-e, with which, in many a solitary vigil, he often held 
 communion on the lonely hill-side, in the romantic glen, or by 
 the desolate mountain tarn, surrounded on all sides by the dreary, 
 monotonous dun hue of the moorland waste. 
 
 On the present occasion, the scene was eminently calculated to 
 arouse his sympathies with the beauty and grandeiu* of external 
 nature. His road lay towards the western side of the island ; and, 
 as he turned a shoulder of the hill which he had been for some 
 time climbing, he came full in view of the sound of Kilbrannan, 
 which separates Arran from Argyleshire, heaving and glittering in 
 the rays of the morning sun like an expanse of molten silver. To 
 the south-west he could distinguish the Mull of Cantire, blue and 
 indistinct through the haze ; while, still further to the south, the 
 Ci'aig of Ailsie reared its huge form amidst the waters, with its 
 rounded shoulders and precipitous sides admirably adapted to with- 
 stand the utmost fury of the billows of the Atlantic. Sailing craft 
 of all sizes spread their canvas to woo the gentle morning air ; 
 though seen from Ronald's elevated point of view, they seemed 
 like mere dots on the burnished surface ; while here and there in 
 the distance a long pennon of black smoke gave token that omni- 
 present steam had tl.ere its representatives, giving an additional 
 aspect of liveliness and animation to the scene. In his immediate 
 neighbourhood the prospect was one of wild and sterile grandeur. 
 On either hand hills rose into the air, clothed, about two-thirds of 
 their height, with a short, rich, velvety grass, producing unequalled 
 sheep pasturage — the remaining third being composed of lofty, 
 jagged peaks of granite, emerging from their verdant covering, 
 and frowning defiance and destruction to all bei^eath them. Nor 
 did the threat seem altogether a vain one; for all down their 
 sides, and along the glen through which Ronald now took his 
 way, huge masses lay singly imbedded in the soil or heaped to- 
 
^^ ADVENTUBE ,N AKliAN. 
 
 S^^^^ev, as at diftoronf . • i ^^'^ 
 
 Formed tin J, ■'• ■"'''" »"<1 '■'nt. 
 
 ^« '"-■ Stepped st,„. 1 '""•"'■ '"""°'"""-" 
 
 ^■"■'T inspinuioi,, and fee J, t "'?'"■"" '''"•' "^'"'li-ff i . akl, v , ' 
 ■■'t every s(,.n «• • ""-""S ^"8 e lest ev,„„,7 . , ,". ''"" Wth 
 
 'tiii'tled by the <!i,rT,i„ ,. "&'"' "ml over nn,I ... ■ ^ 
 '"•» hoathl foverf " ,"•''■ "' *''« Wuckooek all " '"^ ^™« 
 *l„ ;! 1 "' neighbouring hill Wi i ? '''^"PPeared over the 
 
 i"'wler lees of th ! , ^ '""" ^^"ded it down hill , " "'" '* 
 UDon If ^ ^* '■«*'"^'t told decidedly T ' '"'"'^'^ f'e long 
 
 -«"?t t ha "ber'^ffP^'' beneath onio h!",' " ^^'^ "-•'• 
 Wil side „ ^ J ""^ ''^^'^'-'bed as lyin. 11, ''"^'^ '""^^^ of 
 
 poi"t2\rhe':rdr ^^-^ ^-^^ «s^re°r''^ 
 
 S^J^-ad beeoreotidS^t •t::,'^— '• ^'^^ ^^^ 
 
 "» t^iir;;'; ^'^'^ T'- i "rind E^*-^ «"-^ • 
 
 ('^'1 
 

 128 
 
 KEMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 ^ 
 
 , ■ H :::■;■ ;.;':i -w: 
 
 Going up to the rock, lie found it to consist of an immense mass 
 of granite, seemingly some tons in weight, and apparently resting 
 on several smaller fragments of the same formation. Convinced 
 that the rabbit lay concealed between some of these fragments, 
 and that he might yet recover it, he stretched himself, face down- 
 wards on the ground, close to the foot of the rock, and, thrusting 
 in his arm beneath it as far as he could reach, proceeded to rum- 
 mage for the object of his search. While so engaged, what was 
 his horror and amazement to feel the huge rock suddenly slip 
 down several inches, and, with irresistible and remorseless pressure, 
 fix his arm, just above the elbow, between its own base and one of 
 the underlying fragments ? The enormous mass had been so nicely 
 poised, that the smallest disturbance was sufficient to destroy its 
 equilibrium — a circumstance, as is well known to geologists, of not 
 infrequent occurrence ; and hence the frightful result. Eonald's 
 first instinctive impulse was to endeavour to withdraw his arm — for 
 the pressure, though severe, was not sufficient to crush the limb ; 
 but a moment's consideration convinced him of the utter hopeless- 
 ness of the attempt: he was as immovably fixed as if he had 
 formed a portion of the rock itself. 
 
 And now how bitter were his reflections, how dreadful the re- 
 vulsion from his previous state of cheerful buoyancy ! The contrast 
 was too cruel, and, manly as he was in character, the big tears 
 rolled from his eyes as he thought of the terrible doom which 
 might be in store for him. And, in truth, his situation was suffi- 
 ciently awful to justify the most desponding presages as to his fate. 
 He was at a distance of several miles from the nearest habitation, 
 and the spot was so lonely and sequestered, that he might die of 
 starvation ere any chance wayfarer was likely to take that direc- 
 tion, and so discover his position. His mind filled and confused 
 by these fearful anticipations, he found himself unable to collect 
 his faculties sufficiently to reflect with calmness on the misfortune 
 
 m 
 
nse mass 
 
 At* ADVENn-,,E ,.V AK.UN. 
 
 ^^^i'<'li Jiad befallen h' -^-'^ 
 
 the continn,. I „ . ' ^ *""« Pi^sed on tim „ """» "nore and 
 ••elieved l.im T !''''"'« "'' stupor or ^vT '^^ '"^ ^"y^te™. 
 
 fl'«hed acZT *^''"'^^ '^''^ release Tl!"fi f ^''^^'ved at 
 
 knife r!7 '?. ""'"-l ^^«s to amputl J ^''^ "'""^''t tLat 
 "e. a 'Dding himself Med ,,„ P"'"'"^ ti's arm with Lis c)w„ 
 "le Doetpt ;„ i • , '""ea, Jiowever in i,;„ i ciasj)- 
 
 "• ius inmd, tierefore, he 
 
 ii 
 
 
 »ii 
 
 ' i If ft 
 
 ft' 
 
 m 
 
 
 If*?! 
 
i;u) 
 
 UKMAUKAIU-i; AhVlONTUUKS. 
 
 II 
 
 l>('lli()ni>li1 iiini of liiM Itiitlilul (M»IIi(<s mh ilio only IVnHJMf^ hkmihh dl 
 ('iTli^cliiilL', Ins (Irlivcnincc. TIk^sc |)(m»i" nninnilH Innl numifoHtrdllio 
 ntniusl (lis! loss and soliciludc when llioy jHTccivrd lln»ir nwislrr'H 
 niisrort\n\(\ Tlicy v;m wlnninii: imd sninin^ roinid llif rock mh if 
 s(H'kin|>; lor sonio nn^tniM of ndiovinj^' liiin, rcfnrninfi: ovory now nnd 
 lli(M» lo Onvn n]>on Itinv und lick his 1'mcc, in fokcMi oClhcMr jiflcclion 
 nnd Hvnij^ntliy. Callinuf lln'ni to Inin now, In* <'nd('iivonr(Ml lo 
 mjiko thoni conn)ichcnd 1 hat lie wished Ihcm to sot ofV for home, 
 ho|>in!>' that Ihoir arrival 1h(>n' would servo ns a means of alarming* 
 his family as lo tlu* cvu^o of his continued ahsence. For a loufj^ 
 time his elVorts wow. unsuec<Nsfnl. TluMr very alTfeetion for hij») 
 proved the p'catxNt obstacle in his endeavours to rend<M' their 
 services (^iVectual. 1Mioui>h wIumi scolded away they retr(>at(>d for 
 a short distanc(% thoy n^turned timeaft<M' time. crouchinfj;fawnin^ly 
 at his sid(\ as if humbly d(^pr(H'atini»; his disi>hnisuro. Almost de- 
 spairing, at length it occurred to him that his youngest boy was th(^ 
 constant ]ilaymate, and (^onsequcMitly sj)ecial favourite of the oldest 
 collie, Jiaddie, which had been rc^arcd on the farm from a puppy. 
 Addressing him, tluM'i^fore, in sheplK^d phrase, ho exclaimed : 
 *' Hie away Mide, good Laddio, hie away wide ; se(dv AUistor, good 
 dog, seek Allistor;" and his heart throbbed with renewed hope 
 when ho saw the sagacious animal's eye light up with a look 
 of pleased intelligence, and at the same moment, pricking up his 
 oars, w itli a joyful bark and a bound he set off at the top of his 
 speed. Left thus alone, Konald hopefully reflected that " man's 
 extremity is God's o})port unity." 
 
 Arrived at the farm-stead, honest Laddie found his master's 
 small household busily engaged conveying home and stacking llic 
 last portion of the season's peats — the Highlander's staple fuel — 
 which, having been cut about the month of June, are allowed io 
 dry and harden on the surface of the peat -moss until a later period 
 of the year brings sufEcicnt leisure to have them carted home and 
 
*'y «f™y k „,.„,.!„ told T , ""'"'''• 
 
 'iiiic'f on I'l, K- , ' "'^'' ''xliiniHtpt sfiii I • 1^™ 
 
 .„„.„•!" , "' '*™ff« 'I'-mnoo. A,n cl f "'' '" ^'■■'•n-.son.o 
 
 r- - X <- :'s:;r ■« «- "r„;:;;t,: 
 
 ">« wck, and the droad 'f w, '-"'""^ *° "'« F'"'lero„.s s,W 
 
 i;:l| 
 
 
 
 
 t?'i||f 
 
 1 
 
 'M 
 
 
 
 ll'i 
 
11^ 
 
 r 
 
 132 
 
 KEMARKABLE ADVENTURES, 
 
 his owu directions, this objot^t was li}i[)pily a('<'oini>li.she(l ; ami, 
 pl{icinf( the patient upon a litter, he was caretiilly convoyed honii^ 
 and put to bed, wliere he lay many days under medical attendance 
 before he was sufficiently recovered to resume the active duties 
 of life. 
 
 AN AWKWARD ADVENTURE. 
 
 One evening in the autumn of 185 — , during a temporary stay at 
 a muddy little fishing station near the junction of the river Avon 
 with the Bristol Channel, an adventure befel me, which might 
 have been attended with very untoward results, and whicli I shall 
 relate as briefly as may be. I had taken my residence ibr a week 
 or two in the neighbourhood, for the express purpose of holding 
 oommunieation and exchanging occasional visits with an old friend 
 and schoolfellow, the captain of an Indian trader then lying at 
 anchor in the roads. We generally spent our evenings together, 
 either on board his vessel or at my lodgings, but always separated 
 about an hour before midnight. The old boatman, who two or 
 three times a week rowed me oft' to the vessel and brought me 
 back again, happened to be out of the way one evening at the 
 accustomed hour ; and while I was waiting, almost ankle-deep in 
 the brown sludge which the receding tide leaves upon the coast, 
 expecting his appearance, a decent locking middle-aged man pulled 
 towards me in the merest cockle-shell of a craft, and, touching liis 
 hat of glazed tarpaulin, volunteered to supply his place. Without 
 hesitating a moment 1 stepped into the boat, and, seating myself 
 in the stern, pointed to the " Bhurtpoor," lying about a mile and a 
 half in the offing, and told him to pull away. 
 
 The season was approaching the equinox, and, the wind blowing 
 fresh, my appetite for dinner sharpened as we got clear of the mud- 
 
AX AWKWAHI) ADVENITRR. 
 
 bnnk.s, whid, as tlio ff 1 ^^^ 
 
 '!rr'T''^'''''^'"''^>^^'^r:^vX ""'" !"■"»'• "•»* •"- 
 
 f'o level of the ,nom.t«iu to > i ,' I '"" '""' «""k ■"•■■rlv to 
 
 f, ""''^ before a dark olo,,,! n.»iTf\ ""' ""'Proceeded 
 
 'he wind blew, rapidly e„rt„i" I, 'It'' ''"^l' ^«'" ^^hieh q,„.rter 
 "" """•■' '"-o -xWenly than „ t / "a'^l'!' ?'' *""'V"''' -"'e 
 ]'--een..or of „„ a„.,y i„„_ andl 'conn "."''' ^''"'"^ '^"^ «'« 
 »™d glooming over tie waters n f ''""''■" "'« «'lv,moin- 
 
 ■•'•'->' the notion of being elZun it ""• f' '"^"""'<'- ^ ''''• "" t 
 - "S"al, a heavy shower Jrll^^rf. '! T "'* •■"'-"•>•".- 
 '"'.' I urge,I the boatman to pu a«fv "L 'n '""' "" ''^'"-"^^ 
 *«I he, tngging at the oars " Zlt^ T "" "'"• " ^.v, ay. sir " 
 l^ard without a wet jaetet » "" '°'" l'""'"^ ^^ honiur a- 
 
 -f'or about two miuuton ih^ lu^i i 
 -.creased exertions, daneed for^a 1 It 't' ""'^"' ,*''« ""l-'ns of 
 I could see the hands on boardZe t*, ^^ ' ™'^- ^^'''^"•'y 
 
 00* sails, which, as the ves'ent ^ T" ''"^^ '■"rf'"K «o,no 
 ^t down for the purposej pl^'j?^''^' '^T' P''>'""'^- ''-» 
 'ke evolutions of the crew, Zll^ '™**'"S ""^ ««""""'- 
 d-sappearanee of every «.' of ll ,"^ "* ^''^ 'nstantaneons 
 -varethat «y companL had stonlrd "" ' '^"'^^^ «"''<J- r 
 ""der the influence of the reced S A '"^' ""^ *'='" *he boaf! 
 right track. "P„,i „ „ 'f 2"JJ«'^^' -- drifting out of the 
 
 '« «at while the big drop, frL he 1 ri"^-.""^ '^'' *" '^'^"••' 
 I'ead, began splashing down iTkeL .??•"*' "°^ right over- 
 "nan. however, neithef molTd nor sl\ t""*'*^ "P"" "«• '■">« 
 ^'a^prng the oai. to his brel 1 S' 'f' ^'"^ '^'"^ arms, 
 e^^ were darting from theirt'ckets '/"; "^'^ " '''''''■ » 
 « °ngh M an agony of terror b f '""^ "" "» ^^es as 
 
 spluttered forth foam at the co^e, ■"?'*' ^^'^ ^"^^ ^st. ye 
 
 - of a livid black CO Jr.r ^reVet StT^ ^^*^' 
 
 veins 01 h,, forehead stood out 
 
 t> 'f ' 
 
 f^ • li 
 
I ffTT 
 
 134 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 I 
 
 i! . 
 
 m 
 
 like an iron net-Avorlv ; while tUo perspiration streamed off his head 
 in a perfect toiTent. 
 
 AVhat to do I did not know. I concluded that the man was in 
 a lit of some kind or other ; and I feared momentarily lest, in some 
 sadden paroxysm, he should flounder overboard, and perhaps upset 
 the boat, causing the destruction of us both. I would have given 
 much to have had a friend with whom to advise, but advice was 
 out of the question. While I sat deliberating, the squall burst 
 upon us with unmitigated fury. The floods came down a perfect 
 Avaterspout, and the winds tossed us about among the chopping 
 billows to such an ugly tune, that in a few minutes the boat was 
 nearly half full of water, and I was fain to take to baling out with 
 jdl my might, making use of an old saucepan, rusty and shorn of 
 its handle, which lay amongst the loose planks in her bottom. 
 8till there sat the wretched waterman, rigid as a corpse, and appa- 
 rently insensible to the assaults of the tempest. By this time it 
 was so dark that I could see neither the " Bhurtpoor " nor the 
 coast, and, what is more, did not know in which direction to look 
 for tliem. I could only see my companion's face by leaning 
 forward and Ininging my own almost in juxtaposition with it ; and 
 whenever I did this, the same horrified aspect met my view, and he 
 invariably resented my curiosity by the utterance of a frightful 
 guttural sound, expressive, if of anything, of terror lest I should 
 lay a hand upon him. 
 
 The squall Ibrtunately soon mitigated in intensity, and seemed 
 to settle down into a heavy rain. When I had baled out the water 
 sufficiently to remove present uneasiness on that score — and it 
 seemed to me that I had occupied liours in accomplishing it — I 
 unshipped the rudder, and, by dint of no inconsiderable labom-, 
 padtllcd with it so effectually as to keep the boat's head to tlie 
 Avind. ^riiat was all I could do, and I could not do that veiy well, 
 as an occasional sea that broke over the gunwide convinced mo a 
 
AN AWKWARD ADVENTURE. 
 
 135 
 
 dozen times at least. After tossing about in tliis miserable condi- 
 tion a considerable time, wliicli seemed to me an age, I looked at 
 my watch to see how long we had been out, and was amazed to 
 find that not two liours had elapsed since we liad started. I should 
 hardly have been more surprised had the sun risen on the other 
 side of the channel and ushered in the morning. My troubles 
 seemed to have endured longer than the whole of the past day, 
 and yet there were eight or nine hours to pass before another would 
 dawn upon us. I began to fear that we should not survive the 
 night ; we were probably several miles from the nearest land, but 
 in what direction it lay I had no idea. All that I knew was, that 
 we were drifting down channel, and that down we must continue to 
 drift till the tide turned, which I judged would not be for several 
 hours, I bawled to my companion as loud as I could halloo — 
 bantered him, consoled him, encouraged him, reasoned with him : 
 all, however, was to no purpose; not a response could I elicit. 
 There was, therefore, nothing for it but to sit still and wait the 
 issue. I was wet through to the skin — as thoroughly sodden as 
 it' I had been fished up from the bottom of the sea ; and every 
 now and then a terrible presentiment haunted me that to the 
 bottom we were doomed to go before the morning, 
 
 How long I. sat in this state, alternately baling v/ith the rusty 
 saucepan, paddling with the rudder, and gazing moodily at tlie 
 grim figm'e of the boatman, now half shrouded in the darkness, i 
 have no distinct recollection, but it must have been a very con- 
 siderable time. My reflections were none of the pleasantest. J'lie 
 vision of the captain's comfortable cabin, and his wrll-spread table 
 furnished with the game we had shot togetlier the day before, rose 
 to my imagination with tantalizing force ; and there was I, trans- 
 formed from a delighted and favoured giuost to a miserable cast- 
 away, at the mercy of a motionless image, mIio, iov all I knew, 
 miidit woke up into a niging madman, or die and stiften in tlie 
 
130 
 
 REMAEKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 position in which he sat, leaving me in the unpleasant predicament 
 of having to account for his fate .should I happen to survive him 
 long. Morbid thoughts began to rise in my mind and to mingle 
 with unworthy terrors, both of which I had a difficulty to shake 
 off. At length I began to revolve the matter determinately, with 
 a view to action of some sort. I could bear the horrible perplexity 
 of my position no longer, and determined to do something, if 
 possible, to bring it to an end. But what ? — that was the question. 
 I stood up and looked around. I fancied I could see a glimmering 
 of light far away to the left, and thought that if I could get posses- 
 sion of the oars I might succeed in making the land in that direc- 
 tion, particularly as the wind had now abated and the storm had 
 ceased. 
 
 I cautiously laid my hand upon the man's shoulder, and felt for 
 his fingers : they were hot as those of a person in a IJ A\ . rrer. I 
 endeavoured to loosen the oars from his grasp, but I nugiit as well 
 have tried to snap them in pieces with my fingers : they were firm 
 as though gripped in an i:'on vice. I felt his face and hair ; both 
 were hot and bathed in clammy moisture. In spite of the poor 
 fellow's aflliction, I grew exasperated with him for venturing out to 
 sea, with the knowledge which he must have had that he was liable 
 to such fearful visitations. Half in anger and half inspired with a 
 sudden idea, I groped in the bottom of the boat for the old sauce- 
 pan, found it, filled it with the cold brine, and dashed it suddenly 
 in the fellow's face. The shock was instantly followed by a '- c^ 
 sigh and a rather violent gasping. Distressing as these sci.: i-. 
 usually are, they were now grateful music to my ears, and, withoui 
 waiting more than a minute, I repeated the experiment. Directly 
 afterwards I heard the oars rattle in the rullocks, and saw, as 
 plainly as the gloom would permit, that the man was addressing 
 hii^self again to his work, though in all likelihood he had hardly 
 yet recovered his full consciousness. I spoke to him, but rc> dved 
 
AN AWKWARD ADVENTURE. 
 
 137 
 
 him 
 
 lake 
 with 
 (xity 
 
 g, if 
 rtion. 
 
 ering 
 
 3sses- 
 
 iirec- 
 
 1 had 
 
 no answer. I again filled the rusty saucepan and sprinkled water 
 r * er his face with my fingers. At length he threw off his hat with 
 one hand, shook himself, and with difficulty stammered forth, " It's 
 all right now." 
 
 "All right, do you call it? Whereabouts are we? and what 
 o'clock do you suppose it is? and whereaway lies the *Bhurt- 
 poor?'" 
 
 " Very sorry, ^^our honour — how long is it we've been out ?" 
 
 " Four or five hours — perhaps six : a pretty scrape you have lot 
 me into !" 
 
 " Very sorry, your honour ; but we'll get picked up before long. 
 Here's a smack a-coming — she'll be down upon us in tw^enty 
 minutes, and we'll be snug enough on board of her." 
 
 I could see nothing of the smack whose approach he announced ; 
 but as he assured me again and again that she was fast bearing 
 down upon us, I was but too glad to believe it true. Sure enougli, 
 in ten minutes later I could discern her broad white canvas loom- 
 ing forward like an apparition ; and soon my companion hailed her 
 hoarsely, and received a reply perfectly unintelligible to me, 
 through the captain's speaking trumpet. She did not, however, 
 heave to, but came dashing past at five or six knots an hour, and 
 seemed about to abandon us to our fate, with a coarse jest flung at 
 us in passing. I had begun exclaiming against this abominable 
 inhumanity, as I supposed it, but the poor boatman interrupted me 
 with, " It's all right, your honour ; we'll board her in two minutes." 
 With these words he lifted something white into the boat, bawling 
 out, " Heave-ho !" at the same moment, with the full force of hu 
 Jungs. The something white was a floating buoy attached to a 
 long line which the smack had dropped for our convenience, and 
 which, on hearing the signal, they, now began to haul in with 
 astonishing rapidity. For two minutes we cut through the water 
 like a rocket, and the next ascended the hull of the smack, and 
 
 F 2 
 
 'iv,\ 
 
 r*-5 m 
 
 wm 
 
i 
 
 138 
 
 REM ARK ABT,E ADVENT HRE?5. 
 
 f 
 
 dived down into her cabin, where a few rashers of Welsh bacon 
 and a cup of steaming coffee restored our exhausted strength and 
 spirits. It was past ono o'clock when we boarded the smack, 
 and nearly three when she arrived at an adjoining seaport, the 
 place of her destination. I was fortunate enough, through the 
 recommendation of the captain, to find accommodation for the 
 night in a house near the quay, where I retired immediately to 
 bed, and happily escaped any serious injury from the dangerous 
 enterprise I had so unwillingly achieved. 
 
 Next morning I encountered the unlucky boatman, still pale and 
 haggard, upon the quay, and sought to obtain some explanation of 
 the wretch i experience of the previous night. He was, however, 
 most unwilli) speak on the subject, and, but for the conscious- 
 
 ness that he ov, ^d me some reparation for a wrong unintentionally 
 done me, it was plain that he would not have uttered a word. As 
 it was, my curiosity was but half gratified. He acknowledged that 
 he was subject to occasional fits ; but he had his living to get. He 
 denied that he had had a fit last night, asserting that if he had, he 
 should have gone overboard immediately, as it would have required 
 three or four men to hold him still. He said he saw me and all I 
 did during the whole period, and heard, moreover, every word I 
 spoke, which he could not have done had he been in a fit. From 
 all I could understand of his description of the agonies he had 
 himself undergone, he had felt the symptoms of an approaching 
 attack, and Knowing that, if it mastered him in the boat, it must 
 inevitably result in his destruction, had wrought himself up to a 
 determined resistance, and in the danger and darkness of that 
 sudden tempest had manfully battled it out with the dreadful 
 malady, that might else have merged us both in one common 
 doom. The more I questioned him and revolved his answers in 
 mv mind, the more I became convinced that this was the truth. 
 Doctors may, for aught I know, pronounce such an effort to be 
 
•on 
 
 md 
 
 ick, 
 
 the 
 
 the 
 
 the 
 
 y to 
 
 srous 
 
 A TWILIGHT ADVENTURE. 
 
 130 
 
 altogether vain ; but I describe the facts of the case pretty much 
 as they happened, and must leave those who differ with me in 
 opinion to deal witli the matter as ihey list. 
 
 I had been angry enough witli the poor fellow the night before, 
 but the interview of the morning banished my resentment ; and as 
 he rose from the heap of iron ore upon which he had been sitting 
 when I came up with him, and staggered feebly towards the vessel 
 in which he had been offered a gratuitous passage home, I could 
 not but feel that there were qualities in him worthy of respect. He 
 would accept nothing for his services, but returned the offer with a 
 dolorous glance of the eye, and a significant curl of the upper lip 
 — and so we parted. Health and peace go with him i 
 
 mi 
 
 s 
 
 ivr 
 
 «| 'M. I 
 
 A TWILIGHT ADVENTUEE. 
 
 AN APPARITION EXTRAORDINARY. 
 
 About the centre of a great dreary common, distant some three 
 
 miles from the little towm of C , and just at the meeting place 
 
 of two footpaths, which may be traced far over the sombre waste 
 by their weary whiteness, stand three lightning-scathed elms, bat- 
 tered and seared by fire and storm, barkless, livid, and ghost-like 
 in the dim twilight. And oh ! the oppressive soHtudo and silonet^ 
 of that spot at such an hour. 
 
 It was just when the twilight of a September evening lay deepest 
 on the border land of day and night, that my homeward path led 
 me past the blasted elms. The friends I had just left were such as 
 Percy, or Ritson, or Scott would have loved to commune with — 
 full of old ballad lore. Quaint old words, breathed in the soft 
 sweet voice of tlio mistress of the house to a quaint okl melody, 
 
 m 
 
■jiji^pir 
 
 140 
 
 llESrABKABLE ADVENTTTER. 
 
 
 still rang in my ears. And this was the burden that haunted 
 me: — 
 
 •• As I was walking a' nlane, 
 I heard Iwa corbies makin' a mane ;* 
 The ane unto the t'other did say. 
 Where sail we gang and dine the day?" 
 
 The words of the ballad were well enough remembered, and I was 
 
 trying to recall the air ; but the fourth line baffled me. I could 
 
 not get it to run rightly at all, and in vain did I repeat over and 
 
 over — 
 
 •* Where sail we gang and dine the day ?** 
 
 in different keys, now higher and now lower. 
 
 Wholly intent upon this vexatious interruption to my musical 
 reveries, I drew near to the goblin trees, and, for aught I know, 
 might have passed them unnoticed, had not my little dog Trot, 
 who was trotting quietly on, nose to ground, as was his wont, a 
 yard or two in advance, suddenly stopped short in my way, so that 
 I almost stumbled over him ; and he then slunk cowering at my 
 heels. At the same moment there reached my ears a faint rustle as 
 of footsteps through the heather, or perhaps merely the rush of a 
 startled rabbit into the gorse. But be this as it may, ye lovers of 
 the marvellous, what a spectacle met my eyes, as then, for the first 
 time, I lifted them to the blasted elms ! 
 
 From a huge broken limb of the central tree depended an object 
 that bore the semblance of a living creature, yet altogether unlike 
 any that I had ever seen or read of. It loomed out from the dark 
 background of cloudy sky, likest to one of those vast vampires 
 which travellers have described as sometimes seen in the depths of 
 the South American forest. Like them, it hung by the hind feet 
 to the branch, swaying slowly to and fro. But tlien it was white — 
 a livid white, like that of the barkless tree — wliite head, and body, 
 
 * I lieard two crows making a moan. 
 
A TWILIGHT ADVENTURE. 
 
 lil 
 
 and logs, and wide-extended wings. The A\ind, too, wafted from it 
 a ghoulish odour, indescribable, that told a talc of fresh-spilt blood. 
 
 Confess, now, candid reader, long you not, as I did, to know 
 something more of the monster ; to be rid of such a nightmare of 
 doubt ; to be able to call it by some known name ; to find out 
 whether to laugh or weep, to clap hands or to tremble ? How, 
 then, shall I dare to tell you the whole truth, and to call upon you 
 to let your curiosity be as easily satisfied as mine was ? How per- 
 suade you to think with me, discretion the better part of valour, 
 and to wait with patience equal to mine the possible denoument of 
 time ? The fact is that, after a very brief deliberation, I deter- 
 mined to give the tree and its " uncanny " burden a wide bertli, 
 and so arrived at home unhai-med, though somewhat startled and 
 confounded by what I had witnessed. 
 
 This is, I am willing to admit, a very unromantic, and therefore 
 improper, conclusion to my story. Had I described my horror at 
 the sight — how my very hair rose on end till it lifted my bi^^ad- 
 brimmed straw from my head, and how I fled, fear-ridden, awe- 
 spurred, and terror-winged over the wild waste, pursued by un- 
 earthly howls, and the flap, flap, flap of strange wings, mitil I fell 
 half-dead, and so on — this would, of course, be far more interesting, 
 and a more proper and normal termination to my adventure. Of 
 all this I am well aware; but then you see, discerning reader. 
 Truth contradicts oftentimes, and flatly, the notion that ho is 
 " stranger than fiction," and in this case brought a very romantic 
 
 story to a very unromantic end. 
 
 * ♦ * # 
 
 About a week had passed since the evening of my mysterious 
 adventure, when, on taking up the county paper, a cer i para- 
 graph caught my eye, and, ere I had glanced far down it, the 
 mystery of my twilight apparition was solved. 
 
 "A Daring Sheepstealeh. — On Tuesday last, a sheep was 
 
 
 
llLi 
 
 IIEMAKKABLE ADVENTUllES. 
 
 1| 
 
 hitolou from a field about two miles from this town (C itself), 
 
 ill the occupation of Blr. J. D. That gentleman's shepherd counted 
 llie sheep, as usual, soon after half-past seven o'clock on that 
 evening, when ho discovered that one was missing. Supposing it 
 had got astray on the common, he did not mention it to his master 
 that night. Next morning, by five o'clock, he was out on the 
 common looking for it. When he reached the well-known * blasted 
 elms,' near the centre, he discovered evident signs, both on the 
 trees and on the ground below, that a sheep had been hilled, or at 
 least cleaned there. He followed the traces of blood as far as the 
 
 large chalk hole near H Wood, where the skin was found 
 
 concealed under the bushes, and there all trace was lost. It is 
 clear that the villain or villains, who have so far eluded pursuit, 
 were old and daring hands at the business, as the theft must have 
 been committed before dark, and the sheep cut up close to the 
 
 footpath that leads from P to C . This path, however, is 
 
 but little frequented, especially after dark, owing to its bad repute 
 among the country folk." 
 
 
 ADVENTURE AMONG THE HUDSON'S BAY 
 
 FUK-HUNTEKS. 
 
 Our brigade of four boats lay moored on the banks of the great 
 Saskatchewan ; which river, taking its rise amid the mugged steeps 
 of the Rocky Mountains, flows through the great prairies and 
 woodlands of the interior of Rupert's Land, and discharges into 
 Lake Winipeg. 
 
 The men were ashore at breakfast. On a low gravelly point 
 that jutted out into the stream, smoked three large fires, over 
 which stood three rudely constructed tripods, from wliich depended 
 
>lf), 
 
 ted 
 Lhat 
 g it 
 ister 
 
 the 
 isted 
 L the 
 or at 
 3 the 
 found 
 
 It is 
 irsuit, 
 
 have 
 to the 
 sver, is 
 repute 
 
 |e great 
 steeps 
 
 les and 
 js into 
 
 point 
 (s, over 
 [pendcd 
 
 ADVENTURE AMONG THE HUDSON'S BAY FLR-IIUNTERS. \\'\ 
 
 three enormous tin kettles. Robbiboo was tliedeloctabh^ snbstanci^ 
 contained in these kettles. Pemmican is a compound of di-ii d 
 buffalo meat, melted fat, and hair — the latter being an accidental 
 ingredient. J\Iix pemmican with flour and water, boil and stir till 
 it thickens, and the result will be " robbiboo." 
 
 Around these kettles stood, and sat, and reclined, and smoked, 
 about thirty of the Avildest and heartiest fellows that ever trod the 
 wilderness. Most of them were French Canadians ; many were 
 half-breeds; some were Orkneymen; and one or two were the 
 copper-coloured natives of the soil. But Canadians, Scotch, and 
 savages alike, were servants of the Hudson's Bay Fur Company ; 
 they were all burned to the same degree of brownness by the 
 summer sun ; they all laughed and talked, and ate robljiboo more 
 or less — generally more ; and they were all clad in the picturesque 
 habiliments of the north-west voyageur. A loose-fitting capote, 
 with a hood hanging down the back ; a broad scarlet or parti- 
 coloured worsted sash round the waist ; a pair of cloth leggings, 
 sometimes blue, sometimes scarlet, occasionally ornamented with 
 bright silk or bead- work, and gartered at the knees; a pair of 
 chamois leather-like mocassins made of deer skin ; a round bonnet, 
 or a red nightcap, or a nondescript hat, or nothing; such is the 
 outward man of the voyageur. 
 
 " Ho ! ho !" shouted the gruff voice of the guide, as the men, 
 having emptied the kettles, were hastily filling and lighting their 
 pipes — " embark, my lads, embark." 
 
 In five minutes the boats were afloat, and the crews v/ere about 
 to shove off, when the cry was raised, " Mr. Berry ! hold on : 
 where's Mr. Berry ?" 
 
 Poor Berry ! he was always late, always missing, always in the 
 wrong place at the right time and in the right place at the wrong 
 time. His companions — of whom there were two in charge of the 
 boats along with himself — called him an " old wife," but qualified 
 
 h'^ \ 
 
 

 144 
 
 KEMARRABLR ADVENTURES. 
 
 ' ( 
 
 tho title with the remark that he was a " good soul," nevertheless. 
 Aud so he was — a beardless youth of twenty-two summers, with a 
 strong tendency to scientific pursuits, but wofully incompetent to 
 use his muscles aright. He was for ever falling into the water, 
 constantly cutting his fingers with his knife, and frequently break- 
 ing the trigger of his fowling piece in his attemi)ts to discharge it 
 at half-cock. Yet he was incomparably superior to his more 
 " knowing " comrades in all the higher qualities of manhood. At 
 the moment his name was called, he sprang from the bushes, laden 
 with botanical specimens, and crying " Stop ! stop ! I'm coming," 
 he rushed down to the boat of which he had the special charge, 
 and leaped in. Five minutes more, and the brigade was sweeping 
 down the Saskatchewan, while the men bent hastily to their oars, 
 and filled the shrubbery on the river's bank and the wide prairies 
 beyond with the ringing tones of one of their characteristic and 
 beautiful canoe songs. 
 
 The sun was flooding the horizon with gold, as it sank to rest. 
 The chorus of the boatmen had ceased, and the only sound that 
 broke the stillness of the quiet evening was the slow and regular 
 stroke of the heavy oars, which the men plied unceasingly. On 
 turning one of the bends of the river, which disclosed a somewhat 
 extended vista ahead, several black objects were observed near the 
 water's edge. 
 
 " Hist !" exclaimed the foremost guide, " they are buffaloes." 
 
 " A terre, a terre !" cried the men, in a hoarse whisper. 
 
 A powerful sweep of the steering oar sent the boat into a little 
 bay, where it was quickly joined by the others. 
 
 " Now, then, let the crack shots be off" into the bush," cried the 
 gentleman in charge of the brigade. " Away with you, Gaspard, 
 Antoine, Jacques. Mind you don't waste powder and shot on old 
 bulls. Hallo ! Mr. Berry, not so fast ; let the hunters to the 
 front." 
 
ADVENTURE AMONG THE HUDSON'S BAY FUU HUNTEUS. 145 
 
 0.' 
 
 " Ah ! Misser Berry him l)erry bad shot," ronuirk<Ml ii middl 
 aged Indian, regarding the youth somewhat contemptuously. Iioriy 
 armed for the chase with frantic haste, dashing about and tumbling 
 over everything in search of his powder-horn and sliot-pouch, 
 wliich were always mislaid, and moving the muzzle of his gun 
 hither and thither in such a way as to place the lives of his men in 
 constant and deadly peril. Ke started at last, with the speed of a 
 hunted deer, and made a bold sweep into the woods in order to 
 head the buffaloes. Here ho squatted down behind a bush, to 
 await their coming. 
 
 A short time sufficed to bring the stealthy hunters within range. 
 Three shots were fired, and two animals fell to the ground ; while 
 a third staggered with difficulty after its companions, as they 
 bounded through the woods towards the prairies, headed by the 
 patriarchal bull of the herd. This majestic animal had a mag- 
 nificently shaggy luaue and a pair of wild glittering eyes, that 
 would have struck terror into the stoutest heart ; but Berry was 
 short-sighted ; moreover he had concealed himself behind a shrub, 
 through which, as he afterwards remarked, he " could see nicely." 
 No doubt of it ; but the bush was such a scraggy and ill-conditioned 
 shrub that the buffalo bull could see through it just as nicely, and 
 charged, with a hideous bellow, at the unfortunate youth as it came 
 up the hill. Berry prepared to receive him. For once he remem- 
 bered to cock his piece ; for once his aim was true, and he hit the 
 huge animal on the forehead at a distance of ten yards ; but he 
 might as well have fired against the side of a hous3 ; the thick 
 skull, covered with its dense matting of coarse hair, was thoroughly 
 ball-proof. The bull still came on. Just at this moment another 
 shot was fired, and the animal hurled forward in a complete 
 somersault ; the bush was crushed to atoms, and Berry was knocked 
 head-over-heels to the ground, where ho lay extended at full 
 length beside his slaughtered foe. 
 
 V- ^ 
 
 f Y^'i 
 
 .'J ■ 
 
 '! t 
 
 r I 
 
 
 
 * ■' >a 
 
 J :•■ -i-A 
 
 I! 
 
 
hii 
 
 ]|<i 
 
 Ur.!\IAUKAni,K AhVKNri'UI'X 
 
 "Ah! i»Mnvn' cnliint," cried Antuiiic, rmmin^^ np mid liftiuMf 
 l^TPy's IhnkI iVoin iho fj^rouiid. " Ih you Iiurl ver' mocli ? J)al hull 
 ])iin hrodv d<» rihs I'lVMid." 
 
 AnfoiiK^'s h'jirs \V(M'o promidloRs. In luill'mi lioiir tho yoiilh whh 
 MM M(dl MS <>v(M', Ihou'ih soniowhfd shiilccn hy tho iail. Tho choico 
 inoiscls of t1i(* (^Piid IhiIVmIoos wcro ('111 olVliytho in«Miwithan adroit 
 ('(Verity that wns (piitc^ inaiTcdlnnH, nnd in a vory Hliort tiiiio th(» 
 honts \V(»ro a}::Min rM|>i<lly dc^sccndiiifi; IJio Rtream. 
 
 TIk^ l)ivouii(» i]\t\i iiif.\1it V(^Honnd(Ml with more vipforoiis mii'th than 
 usual, The canij) \\rc>* Ma/od with unwoidcd powtn* a!i<l brilliancy. 
 Tho cook's odici* — no sinocnro at any timo — Ikhniuio a post of 
 al)S()lu<(* slavcM'v : for there was a tdorions fciist held bonciath tho 
 spreadiui): tre(»s o\' iho I'orest, and tlio bill of tare was " bnffalo- 
 stoaks and marrowbones." Hut if tlie least was noisy, tho liours 
 that succo(m1<mI it wer<^ stooped in ]>roiound sil(Mic(\ Each man, 
 liavin*!^ smoked bfs l'ip<\ s(d«>ct(Ml for his couch tho softest spot of 
 P'onnd \\o coe.ld tind, and, wnippiiiii; himself in his blanket, laid 
 ]n*m down to iwst. The de(»p broathiniz; of nntronblod imbor was 
 tln^ only sound that floated from tho land and min with the 
 
 ri]ipliiij2: oi' the rivor; and not a hand or foot wtis moved until, at 
 daybreak, tho loud halloo of th(^ nuido aroused the sleepers to their 
 daily toil. 
 
 A w(h:'I\ or two passed, and wo had loft tho lands of the buffalo 
 far behind us, and wore sailiuLT over iho broad bosom of Jiake 
 AVinip(^g. It was calm and polished na a shoot of glass when wc 
 (Mitered it, but it did not remain loii": thus. A breeze arose, th(> 
 sails wore hoisted, and away ^ve went out into the wide ocean of 
 fresh water. Ljdce Winipog is a veritable ocean. Its waves rival 
 tliose of the salt sea in naiznitude, and thoy break upon a shore 
 composed in many places of sand and })obbl(>s. If we sail straiglit 
 out upon it, tho shore behind us sinks in the horizon; but no 
 opposite shore rises to view, and the unbroken circle of sky and 
 
AhVKNTI IM; AMONO TIIK IU'DNON'h UAY I'lJU III Niints. 1 17 
 
 'tinti; 
 bull 
 
 1 wim 
 
 <li()it 
 
 than 
 aiicy. 
 
 >st i)t' 
 
 li tli(^ 
 
 iifiiiU)- 
 
 hourrt 
 
 man, 
 
 put of 
 
 <^,, laid 
 n* was 
 li tho 
 til, at 
 ii tlieir 
 
 DuiValo 
 
 J iixkv 
 
 bu \vo 
 
 fc, tho 
 
 ian ol' 
 
 rival 
 
 shore 
 
 |r 
 
 aight 
 
 \nt no 
 
 and 
 
 wut(U* irt ph'Hoiilcd to our ;^'a/.<', as it appcarn on 1h«< fijicut^K'cjiii 
 ils(>ir. 
 
 'rii(i wind roM(^ ahnost to a palo uk wo carcorcd over tlic hilloWM, 
 iind llic iiwii had to kocp up inci'HHant baling. It waw jdiuost loo 
 iiMudi for ns ; but no oiu^ luunnuiod, for, had Iho wind hrcii alicud, 
 wo nii^ht luivo bt'on obli^»!d io ]mt awhoro and ronmin then' inac- 
 tivo I'ur numy dayH. Ah it was, wo niado a rapid run aci'osH tlu; hd\o 
 and (uitijred tho rivor, or rather th(^ Hystcni of iakoH and rivors, 
 whioh convoy its watora to tho ucMjan. Jludson's ii»iy was our 
 ^oal. To this point wo wore convoying our furs for sliipinont to 
 En<ij]an<I. 
 
 Many days ])a8se(l, and w«; woro still jmshing onward towards 
 tho Hca-coast; bnt not so rapidly now. Tlx^ character of tho mivi- 
 gation had chanujc^d very considerably, and our progress was niucii 
 slower. Now wo woro swoc^ping over u small hike, anon dashing 
 down tho course of a turbulent stream, and at other times dragging 
 boats and cargoes over tli*) land. 
 
 One afternoon wo camo to a part of tho river which presented a 
 very terrible aj)poaranc(?. As far as the eye could reach, the entire 
 streain was a boiling turmoil of rocks and rapids, down which a 
 boat could havo gone with as nmcrli safcity as it could have leajwid 
 uvi'r the Falls of Niagara. Our advance was most effectual ly 
 slop])ed, as far as appearance went. Jhit nothing checks tlu; on- 
 ward i)rogreHs of a north-west voyageur except the want of food. 
 The boats ran successively into a small bay, the men loai)ed out, tho 
 bales of furs were tv.)ssed upon the banks of the river, and th(3 boats 
 luUiled up. Then eviuy man produced a long leathern strap, with 
 which ho fastened a bale weighing upwards of DO lbs. to his biick ; 
 above this he placed a bale of similar weight, and trotted off into 
 the woods as lightly as if he had only been laden with two pillows. 
 The second bale is placed above the first by a sleight-of-hand 
 movement which is difficult to acquire. Poor Berry well nigh 
 
 ' iiti 
 
 i 
 
 •! ■* 
 
 
 i i' 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 (■ 
 
 !' '•:;?tl 
 
'1 
 
 1 
 
 
 1 
 ■ i 1 
 
 \\ 
 
 BEMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 broke his back several time'=? in attempting this feat, and even- 
 tually gave it up in despair. 
 
 In an hour the packs were carried over the "portage," and 
 deposited beside the still water at the foot of the rapids. Then 
 the men returned for the boats. One was taken in hand at a 
 time. The united crews seized the heavy craft with their strong 
 hands, and shoved against it with their lusty shoulders ; a merry 
 song was struck up, and thus the boat was dragged through the 
 fores,t for nearly a mile. The others quickly followed, and before 
 evening all was carried over, and we were again rowing down 
 stream. 
 
 Not long after this we came to a rapid, in the midst of which 
 was a slight waterfall. The water was deep here, and the roclvs 
 not numerous, and it was the custom to run the boats down the 
 rapids and over the fall, in order to save the labour of a portage. 
 Three of the boats ran down in grand style, and reached the foot 
 in safety. Berry and I were in the last boat. The steersman 
 stood up in the stern with his hands resting on the long heavy 
 sweep, while his gaze was directed anxiously towards the boiling 
 flood into which we were just entering. The bowman, an im- 
 mensely powerful man, stood up in front, with a long strong pole 
 grasped in both hands, ready to fend off from the sunken rocks. 
 The men sat in their places, with their oars ready for action. 
 
 " Now, boys, lo'^k out," cried the guide, as we plunged into the 
 first billow of the rapids. The boat flew like an arrow straight 
 towards a rock, which was crested with white as the water burst 
 against its ragged front. To all appearance our doom was sealed. 
 The bowman regarded it with a complacent smile, and stood quite 
 Tnotionles3, merely casting a glance backward. The steersman 
 acknowledged the glance mth a nod ; one long strolve of the great 
 oar — the boat turned sharply aside, and swept past in safety. There 
 was no danger in such a big blustering ro'.'k as that I 
 
ADVENTURE AMONG THE HUDSON'S BAY FUR HUNTERS. 140 
 
 4 
 
 *' Prenez garde !" cried the bowman, in a waming tone, pointing 
 to a spot where lay a sunken rock. The steersman's quick hand 
 turned the boat aside ; but the bowman had to lend his aid, and 
 the strong pole bent like a willow as he forced the boat's head away 
 from the hidden danger. And now the fall appeared. It was not 
 liigh, perhaps four feet, but there was a mighty gush of water 
 there, and it was a bold leap for a heavy boat. 
 
 *' Prenez garde, mes garpons — hurrali! — lads, give way! — well 
 done !" The boat plunged almost bows under, but she rose again 
 like a duck on the foaming water. The Avorst of it was past now ; 
 but there was still a ticklish bit below — a bend in the river, where 
 the sunken rocks were numerous, and the surface of the water so 
 white Aviih foam, that it was difficult to detect the channel. The 
 bowman's duty now became more arduous. With knitted brows 
 and compressed lips he stood, every nerve and muscle strung for 
 instant action. The steersman watched his movements with intense 
 earnestness, in order to second them promptly. Ever and anon the 
 stout pole was plunged Into the flood, first on one side, then on the 
 other ; the two guides acted as if they had been one man, and the 
 obedient craft sprang from surge to surge in safety. Suddenly the 
 bowman uttered a loud shout, as the pole jammed between two 
 rocks, and was wrenched from his grasp. 
 
 " Another ! another ! vite ! vite !" 
 
 One of the crew thrust a fresh pole into his hand. Plunging it 
 into the water, he exerted his giant strength with such violence as 
 nearly to upset the boat, but it was too late. The planks crashed 
 like an egg-shell as the boat dashed upon a rock, and the water 
 began to rusli in, while the stern was swept round, and the blade of 
 the steering oar was smashed to atoms. Almost before wo had 
 time to think we were swept down, stern foremost, and floated 
 safely into an eddy at the foot of the rapids. A few strokes of the 
 oars brought us to the land ; but, short although the interval was 
 
 :\-trv 
 
r 
 
 mo 
 
 REMARKABLE AI', ENTURES. 
 
 between our striking the rock and running ashore, it was sufficient 
 to half-fill the boat with water. 
 
 The danger was barely past, and the intense feeling of it was still 
 strong upon my mind, yet these lighthearted voijageur^ were jesting 
 and laughing loudly as they tossed the packs of furs out of the 
 water-logged boat ; so little did they realize the imminence of the 
 peril from which they had been delivered — the shortness of the 
 step that had separated them from the immediate presence of God. 
 
 The remainder of that day was spent in drying the furs that had 
 been wetted, and in repairing the damaged boat. Afterwards we 
 continued our voyage, which, without further accident, terminated 
 at length on the shores of Hudson's Bay. 
 
 ■I 
 ii 
 
 i A' 
 
 ENCOUNTER WITH A WATER-SNAKE. 
 
 What happy people we children of the United Kingdom ought to 
 be, if we could only persuade ourselves of the fact, enjoying as we 
 do every blessing that religion, civilization, and climate can afford ! 
 What though ovu* winters may be severe, our Novembers foggy and 
 cliilly, our summer sunshine often usurped by rainy days, and the 
 l)rice of bread, meat, and fuel sometimes rather exorbitant; not- 
 witlistanding all these di-awbacks, we ought, comparatively speaking, 
 to consider ourselves happy. It is all very fine and poetical to read 
 about cloudless eastern skies, shadowy palm-trees, murmuring rills, 
 and so forth. These undoubtedly seem very inviting and charming, 
 as viewed thi'ough the medium of gaily tinted pictures or books, the 
 production of ready pens and prolific imaginations ; but once sub- 
 stitute the reality for the imagery, and the fascination vanishes 
 with uncomfortable rapidity. Apart from the thermometer at 90" 
 in the shade, from monsoons with incessant three- weeks' torrents of 
 
ENCOUNTER WITH A WATER-SNAKE. 
 
 151 
 
 rain ; from land-winds, hot and unhealthy as the breath of a fur- 
 nace ; setting aside heat, mosquitoes, p;reen bugs, sandflie.^, insects, 
 and vermin of all descriptions, including musk-rats, 1 andicoots, et 
 hoc genus omne — I say, apart from all these nuisances of life in the 
 East, from which wo Britons are happily free, there are others even 
 more startling and perilous, which are incidents of every-day occur- 
 I'cuce. 
 
 Fancy, for instance, being obliged to shake your boots every 
 time you put them on, under the expectation of a snake or a scor- 
 pion or a centipede tumbling oat ; or being compelled to look 
 under your pillow every night with a like dread. How would you 
 relish moving your portmanteau (supposed to contain cherished 
 papers, letters, portraits, and so forth), and finding, to your utter 
 fUsmay, the bottom and the whole contents tumble out, one mass 
 of dust, the destructive, speedy, yet quiet results of a colony of 
 white ants, within the space of twenty-four hours ? We once knew 
 a lady whose white satin shoes were utterly destroyed in one night. 
 What would you say, or rather shout, to feel your body covered 
 with swarms of large red ants, whost stings produce excruciating 
 agony? or to find your jams and jellies ruined by cockroaches ? 
 your beer, in corked and sc 4 bottles, flat and disgusting, from 
 the contact of musk-rats? your ui<'e aromatic cup of tea. a perfect 
 flotilla of horrid insects? or your candle extinguished by a bat? I 
 recko'^i that no Englishman, or, for thai matt(^r, any other Euro- 
 pean, would relish being exposed to such a catalogue .»f ills. Ne- 
 vertheless, such are of daily, nay hourly occui renct- in many jiai'ts 
 of the vast continent of India ; and when we reflect on tliis, I 
 think we have every cause to be thankful for o • country and 
 nationality. 
 
 But it is not only on land that we enjoy the advantage ; the 
 rivers and seas, lakes and tanks of India abound with all kinds of 
 reptiles and dangerous things. Leaving out sliarks and alligators, 
 
 "? 
 
 
 ; ' '*. 
 
 ii ■ I'' 
 
 
 ! 
 
 ^!!«' 
 
 m 
 
 
152 
 
 KEMARKABLK ADVENTURES. 
 
 
 <i 
 
 we may simply enumerate water-snalses, toads, frogs, leeches, etc. 
 
 As for frogs, they are so abuudant in some Indian tanks, that thoy 
 
 constitute a nuisance of themselves during wet weather. Thousands 
 
 of these unsightly reptiles keep up a clamorous concert, producing 
 
 a sound similar to 
 
 " Take an egg — Kill a duck." 
 
 repeated over and over again with a very nasal twang, whi(;h, com- 
 mencing adagio, gradually rises to a very high pitch, the wholo 
 having a running bass accompaniment of bull-frogs. But these, 
 tliough loathsome, are harmless : not so water-snakes, of which a 
 great variety exist — such, at least, is my opinion, although water- 
 snakes are sometimes supposed to be harmless. Possibly they 
 possess various degrees of venom ; but whether or not, I opine that 
 few things can be more disagreeable than plunging into a pleasant 
 cool stream on a very hot day, and finding yourself, after the first 
 dive, face to face with a nasty venomous-looking snake, that forth- 
 with sets up hissing like a goose. 
 
 On one occasion, a large water-snake introduced itself amongst 
 a party of natives engaged in their morning ablutions, at the foot 
 of one of the ghauts, in the Sone. A cry of alarm being raised, au 
 idler on shore seized a luUe (large strong club) from a bystander, 
 and, jumping into the stream, attacked the unwelcome intruder, 
 who had no business to contaminate the waters bathed in by high- 
 caste natives. The snake, nothing loth, encountered its assailant, 
 and, angrily erecting its head in the air, made ready to give battle. 
 In this interval, the gi*eater number of bathers had betaken them- 
 selves to the shore, or scrambled up to the decks of the nearest 
 budgerow, leaving the field clear to the two opponents. With pro- 
 truded fangs the angry snake waved its head to and fro, watching 
 for a favourable opportunity to strike at the man ; but this oppor- 
 tunity never arrived. In the interval, the spectators looked ou 
 with breathless anxiety, although the issue of like combats inva- 
 
ENCOUNTEll WITH A WATER-SNAKE. 
 
 153 
 
 riably terminated in favour of the biped aggressors. There was 
 something terrible in the consciousness that one false step might 
 expose the man to the deadly fangs of the serpent, and that a bite 
 causing an aperture not much larger than what might be produced 
 by the point of a needle, would result, if not in death, in intense 
 suffering of longer or shorter duration. Moreover, the aggi-essor, 
 besides being out of his own element, had to contend against a 
 rapid stream, the eifects of the late heavy falls of rain. Not long, 
 however, were the lookers-on kept in suspense. The cudgel was 
 seen flourishing in the sunlight, and then descended with lightning 
 rapidity upon the back of the water-snake, which was crippled by 
 having its back broken by the blow. Still the venomous creature 
 managed to retreat towards the opposite bank, where the stream 
 ran deeper and with greater velocity ; but, with one hand cudgelling 
 the snake and swimming with the other, the Indian followed up 
 his advantage, amidst loud plaudits from the shore. For some few 
 minutes both were lost to sight behind a projecting angle in the 
 river; but almost immediately afterwards the man reappeared, 
 holding the now dead reptile high up in the air. On bringing the 
 snake to shore, it was found to be one of an ordinary species in 
 those parts, measuring about seven feet in length, with a brown 
 glossy back, very slightly marked, and white as milk underneath. 
 All the people about these ghauts are expert swimmers. The 
 only apparent inconvenience, therefore, experienced by the Indian 
 was, that he seemed to be rather out of breath, as he flung the 
 snake high upon the bank, laughing blithely the while at the 
 success ot his exploit. These and other varieties of snakes are 
 very plentiful in the Jumna and other tributaries of the Ganges, 
 though they are seldom to be encountered in the last-named river. 
 In the Bay of Bengal, the Straits of Malacca, and Gulf of Siam, 
 Avater-snakes are more frequently to be met with than in any other 
 portion of the globe : neither can any place compete with them for 
 
 I 
 
 >k 
 
 i'i 
 
 ^*rT! 
 
 
 (' t'- 
 
 \hm 
 
 at a • 
 
 I f 
 

 
 ini 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 I' 
 
 variety in size and colour. On a fine day, with a gentle four-knot 
 breeze blowing, we have witnessetl upwards of twenty varieties of 
 \vater-snake8 swimming about the vessel, when off the coast of 
 •Sumatra. As seen in the water, with the sun sliining upon their 
 variegated and brilliant coats, they are beautiful to behold. That 
 lliere are amongst them some of great size and strength, and some 
 ui deadly venom, we have no hesitation in asserting ; in proof of 
 w hicli we may be permitted to introduce the following brief anec- 
 dotes, founded upon incontrovertible testimony. 
 
 In the year 1840, when the writer of this paper was sojourning 
 at Bangkok, the floating capital of Siam, the following incident 
 occurred. The weather had been for some weeks extremely 
 tempestuous, and a very lieavy fall of rain in the interior had 
 caused the waters of the Menam to rise higher than usual. At 
 tliat time our host, Mr. H., had commenced building a fine house 
 on terra jimia — the only one, with the exception of the king's 
 palace and some missionary houses, to be met with in Bangkok, 
 the rest of the population being compelled to content themselves 
 with floating domiciles, erected upon bamboo rafts. Our dormitory 
 was afloat, and here we had one evening assembled prior to retiring 
 for the night. 
 
 Owing to the uncongenial state of the atmosphere out of doors, 
 we had been subjected to the visits of many unwelcome intruders : 
 rats and mice, and even birds, had sought shelter under our well- 
 thatched roof; but heretofore we had been exempt from guests of 
 a more dangerous character. It will bo necessary to state that 
 our floating home consisted of one sitting room, with a railed-iii 
 verandah overlooking the river, a large bedroom behind, and a 
 smaller one on either side. There were three of us slept here 
 every night; and, on the eventful occasion in question, we were 
 retiring to our respective couches, when Captain M. suddenly 
 started back from the door of his room, with well-timed presence df 
 
ENCOUNTER WITH A WATER-SNAKE. 
 
 155 
 
 knot 
 es of 
 ,st of 
 their 
 That 
 some 
 oof of 
 anec- 
 
 niind closing the door after him. On inquiry he informed us, that 
 just as he was about entering, his eye had been attracted by what 
 at first appeared to bo a hirgo bit of rope coiled up on the floor : 
 the noise of his footsteps, and the glare of the candle ho cari'ied in 
 his hand, seemed to have aroused the slumberer ; and to his horror 
 lie beheld a Imge snake rapidly uncoiling itself. 
 
 This being the state of affairs, and as we could now distinctly 
 liear the creature fumbling and tumbling about in its eagerness to 
 escape, we deemed it most prudent to jump on shore, and rouse 
 Mr. H.'s servants, who were sleeping in the warehouses that had 
 been completed, under the now house then building. Speedily 
 armed with guns and sticks, and lighted by flambeaux, we returned 
 to investigate the nature of this nocturnal disturber, and administer 
 speedy retribution ; but we came too late. With the assistance of 
 its powerful tail the snake had succeeded in dislodging a good stout 
 plank, and so made its exit — a plank, too, that no ordinary man 
 could have dislodged without a strong effort and a heavy mallet. 
 
 Thus much for their size and strength. That they are venomous 
 tlie records of the royal navy too clearly indicate, when they tell 
 under what tragical circinn stances the doctor of her Majesty's sloop 
 ''Wolf" fell a victim to his taste for natural history; how, when 
 the crew were washing the ship's decks in the IMadrr.s Roads, a 
 water-snake chanced to be hauled up in a bucket, and, being 
 incautiously handled by the doctor, inflicted a bite that occasioned 
 liis death within little more than an hour. 
 
 So, all things considered, we think the reader will admit that 
 there is no country to be compared with our own dear native isle. 
 At the same time, we have often admired the happy mental con- 
 stitution of some of our fellow-creatures, which enables them to 
 find pleasures in dangerous localities such as we have adverted to. 
 Often, also, when we have heard our missionaries in the east record 
 their perilous experiences, have we been struck with the gracious 
 
 )' ?. I 
 
 I'^n 'i 
 
 
156 
 
 IlEMARKABLE ADVENTUIIES. 
 
 Pfl 
 
 f 
 
 'i \ J 
 
 and providential rare which has so wonderfully preserved them, 
 and kept them happy and peaceful in the midst of their useful but 
 arduous labours. 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 ; ( 
 
 A NIGHT ADVENTURE IN PALIS. 
 
 It was during the first months of ray residence in Paris, in the 
 diiys of Charles the Tenth, and nearly five-and-thirty years ago. I 
 had been to take a farewell dinner, and a temperate glass or two of 
 j\Iedoc, with a fellow-townsman and neighboiu* of mine, who was on 
 the point of returning to the paternal roof in Somersetshire. He 
 had been studying medicine and the elements of practical chemistry 
 for the last year, under the watchful eye of his uncle, a pharmacien 
 in the Place Vendome, and it was there, in the small sky-lighted 
 back room behind the shop, which fronted Napoleon's triumphal 
 column, that we had our modest symposium. I was loth to part 
 with him, he had been so true a friend ; he it was who crammed 
 me with colloquial French — the popular idioms of the Parisian 
 highways ; who made me acquainted with all the ins and outs, 
 the by-ways and the short cuts of old Lutetia, and it ght me how 
 to solve the difficult problem of cutting my coat according to my 
 (doth, A>'hich in those days was unfortunately very scanty indeed. 
 
 It is not much to be wondered at that I forgot the lapse of time, 
 and that, when at length I screwed myself up to the pitch of say- 
 ing the last farewell, and had torn myself away, it should be verging 
 towards the small hours of the morning. In truth, it was on the 
 point of striking one when I left the house, and before I had well 
 got clear of the broad " Place," the hour had struck. 
 
 At any other time I should not have cared a straw about this, 
 but have walked on quietly to my lodging in the Kue Richelieu ; 
 but now I knew that would be of no use. That old concentrated 
 
ilbut 
 
 go. 
 
 A NIGHT ADVENTURE IN PAULS. 
 
 157 
 
 essence of verjuice, Ganache, the porter, to 8uvc hiiriself a little 
 trouble had detained my letters of a morning till I came down, 
 instead of sending them by the (/argon to my room on the fourth 
 floor ; and I had quarrelled with him in consequence, and given 
 notice to quit at the end of my month. Since our quarrel he had 
 used me savagely, and I knew he was no more likely to let me in 
 alter one o'clock than he was to pay my tailor's bill. 
 
 This reflection brought me to a stand-still. What should I do ? 
 Where should I go ? To increase my chagrin it began to rain in a 
 mther sharp shower. Instinctively I faced about, ran across the 
 Place, and got under shelter of the piazzas in the Kue do Castig- 
 lione, just in time to save myself from a drenching torrent which 
 burst on the streets like a waterspout. I was walking up and 
 down in the dark, taking counsel of myself, until the storm should 
 cease, when I stumbled and tripped over somebody lying crouched 
 up at the foot of a pillar. 
 
 " Is that you, Janin ?" said a rather whining voice, which 
 seemed to proceed from some one in the act of waking from sleep. 
 
 " No," said I, " it isn't Janin : who are you ? and why are you 
 lying here at this time of niglit ?" 
 
 " Un pauvre aveiigle !' said he ; " I am waiting liere for my 
 comrade, who is gone to the spectacle. You see, M'sieu, Janin is 
 fund of the spectacle, and while he is getting liis fill of it, I take 
 my pastime on the cold stones." 
 
 I thought it but a grim sort of joke, and told him 1 should tliink 
 better of Janin if he were more considerate for his friend. 
 
 The poor blind wretch did not agree with me, and, to my sur- 
 prise, began vindicating the character of Janin. " You see, 
 M'sieu," he said, " if I am blind, Janin has good eyesight, and why 
 should he not enjoy it ? he may as well be blind as I, if he is to 
 see nothing. One should not be selfish although one is unfor- 
 tunate." « 
 
 ii 
 
 ■ i, 
 
 i 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 a 
 
 ,' S 
 
 '1 
 
 
 
 S t 
 
 MSh 
 
 Ik 
 
 
 5 
 
 
 
 
1 
 
 ( 
 
 j 
 
 i 
 
 
 1 
 
 ■\'f ' 
 
 
 ; If 
 1 
 
 
 f 
 
 1 
 
 W,|!! 
 
 
 158 
 
 UEMARKABLE ADVENT UllKS. 
 
 Wliilc Iio was spoakiiif]^, and I was inwardly adinirini^ liis sini[)lo 
 inagiiaiiiinity, Janin came up at a quick pace, and chanting' u 
 lively ditty. " What, my old philosoplicr ! .so you have company," 
 ho said : " I am afraid I must disturb your conference." 
 
 " Make no a[)ology for that, I pray," said I ; " but if you ciiii 
 direct me to a lodging I shall feel obliged." 
 
 " You are English," said Janin ; " there is an English house in 
 the Hue de I'Odeon, which is always open till two. If you malcc 
 for the Pont Neuf at once, and step out, you will bo there in good 
 time." 
 
 " Good night, then, my lads ; " and away I trudged at a round 
 pace for the Pont Neuf — crossed it in a pelting shower, and miulo 
 the best of my way to the Rue de I'Odeon. I accounted myself 
 fortunate in reachins: the house a few minutes before the hour for 
 closing the door, but found that I had not so much cause for eon- 
 gTatulation as I had imagiii^ti, as the place was full, and the only 
 accommodation the landlady could offer me was a small truckle 
 bed in a two-bedded room, already bespoken for the night by a 
 previous comer. 
 
 Being wet through by the rain, and feeling that I should not 
 mend matters by faring further, I was fain to make a virtue of 
 necessity, and accej^t the truckle bed. IMoreover, wishing to get 
 out of my damp garments as quickly as possible, I asked for my 
 candle, and was forthwith shown to the dormitory, which I found 
 was up four flights of stairs. I lost no time in getting between the 
 sheets, but had no intention of going to sleep until I knew at least 
 what sort of a subject was to be the companion of my slumbers. 
 So I took a book from my pocket, and placing my candle on n 
 (;hair by the bed-side, began to read, resolved to keep my light 
 burning and myself awake until the sound of footsteps on the stairs 
 should apprise me of the approach of the stranger. After the lapse 
 of dbout luilf an hov-r the sdunds I was listening for approached ; 
 

 A NiailT ADVENTUKE IN PARIS. 
 
 159 
 
 iniplo 
 in,U" it 
 miiv," 
 
 )U cull 
 
 )iis(* ill 
 
 muk',' 
 
 11 good 
 
 I round 
 I made 
 . mysL'lf 
 lOur for 
 for con- 
 he only 
 tniclde 
 lit by Ji 
 
 »iil(l not 
 irtue of 
 to get 
 for my 
 I found 
 reen tlio 
 at least 
 umbers, 
 [le on a 
 ly light 
 e stairs 
 Ihe lapse 
 loacliecl : 
 
 and llioii, dapping the extiuguisher on the light, I lay back, half 
 closed my eyes, and affected to sleep. 
 
 The ligure tliat now entered the room was not at all a fascinating 
 one, to my view at h'ast. He was a man of about five-and-tliii'ty, 
 jauntily garbed in one of the pea-green, high-collared surtouts 
 cun-eiit among the fast mon who affected the Luxembourg quartor 
 of the Paris of that day, but which surtout, hko the rest of his 
 garments, seemed to have run all too suddenly to seed. There 
 was something boozy and vicious in tlie expression of liis face, 
 wliich, spite of a fierce-looking moustache, gave one the idea of 
 meanness and servility coupled with a reckless kind of bravado, 
 which smacked rather of swagger than of daring ; and in every 
 feature there was the impress of debauchery and intemperance. 
 He uttered a brief common-place greeting as he entered the room, 
 but finding that I took no notice of it, probably concluded that I 
 was asleep, and so said no more. 
 
 In less than five minutes he had bundled himself into bed and 
 had put out the light, and after a few minutes more began to give 
 audible tokens of the soundness of his slumbers. ^Hiongh I had 
 formed the worst opinion of my companion, I did not feel the 
 shghtest alarm. He evidently had no hostile purpose ; he had no 
 weapon of any kind, not even a stick, and I felt assured that in a 
 personal encounter I could easily master him. Still, there was 
 something in his wandering eye, which never rested for a moment 
 on a single spot, that I did not like, and I felt a little annoyed with 
 myself that I had not placed my garments nearer my hand, instead 
 of spreading them on chairs in the middle of the room, in order t<j 
 get them diy. These thoughts, however, were but momentary, 
 and in a very brief space I had forgotten everything in a quiet 
 slumber. 
 
 I suppose I may ha,vc slept about two hours, and the dawn was 
 just breukii^g, when I was tiwokc by ii slight noioc like ^oinelhing 
 
 1 ,,j t^ .'.1 
 
 ^r i\ 
 
■I 
 
 M 
 
 i . ' 
 1,: 
 
 h 
 
 t 
 
 Lk 
 
 100 
 
 UEMAllKABLE ADYENTUKES. 
 
 falling on the tiled floor of the ai)artmout. Liu'kily I did not slart 
 or niuk(3 the least movement, but, half opening my eyen, in thr 
 full consciousness of the situation, I saw that my companion was in 
 the act of getting out of bed. His movements were so slow and 
 cautious, and noiselessly made, that they roused ray suspicion, and 
 I watched him narrowly through my seemingly closed lids. \\'ith 
 the stealthiness of a prowling cat he got upon his feet, and, with 
 his eyes fixed on me, advanced slowly to the foot of my bed. His 
 object plainly was to be sure that I slept ; and I took care to 
 betray no sign of wakefulness that might undeceive him. After a 
 statue-like watch of a few moments, he seemed to have assured 
 himself of my slumbers, and turning softly round, thrust his hand 
 into one of the pockets of my pantaloons, and, withdrawing the 
 contents, retreated to his bed, carrying the plunder with liini 
 Here he lay motionless for several minutes, watching me atten- 
 tively the while At length he raised himself, and, drawing a 
 canvas bag from beneath his pillow, deposited within it the booty 
 he had seized, replaced it, and lay down as if to compose himself 
 to sleep. 
 
 My blood was boiling in my veins at the fellow's impudent 
 robbery, and I felt half inclined to rise and pummel him as he lay, 
 and recover my property. There was no occasion, however, for 
 any hurry; and, reflecting that second thoughts are sometimes 
 best, I lay still, endeavouring to form some plan for doing myself 
 justice, if it might be, without a scene of violence, which might be 
 attended with unpleasant consequences, but fully determined to do 
 battle for my own, if no other alternative presented it . jlf. The 
 contents of the pocket which the fellow had rifled amounted to 
 about three pounds English, all in five-franc pieces, which I had 
 received from my friend of the night before, in final discharge of 
 an accommodation account between us. This was no great sum, 
 to be sure, but it was more than I could then afford to lose ; and 
 
Iho rascal was „„ ^ore asleen ,,f 'V"'^""'' >""eh deceive,! 
 mdignatioa were per,,lc,in„ 2 '""'■ ^''"y ""■^'■'^ty a S 
 
 -mo moment troubli;rn! „;,/"' r^-l'--"- -re aM 
 J'ope of concoctinc^ „ ?,iJ' /■ ' T •"'' "' ^ ""^ "Uuduni.,^ oii 
 
 ''h-ch had at least tl,e promise T ^ '" l*"»««'on of „„„ 
 
 eyes suddenly, and fix thim ft I ^ "''''?• ^ ^'>^ '"''" op-n J 
 e canvas bag once n.ore f" It nXli ""^1 "^'"^ '>" -'"1 
 "f bed with it in his hand ^ "'"^**'' ''« 1>J'"«-, ,md steppd „„ 
 
 withered geranium in a gWed^"^, ''°^ "1'"" ^--e windot'La 
 
 -r«stiek,wWehhaddrSd„p::dtrr ^"'""'^ "'-' -I ! 
 amazement the thief lifted f I, . *"' "'"" "^ «ater. To mv 
 
 '•'"■^ingthe ea.th in wh ^ hi ^ "'" °"' °^ "■« P"* h he ste7 
 
 ;«gether by the rootraW^ift f?' »"" -'-" -- all m S 
 
 Jarro-^----^;4^rp^^^^^^^ 
 
 ;f ^ "4r„ t:f - £lr -- °^ - - very 
 
 any concealed spectator who lu "n ?'^''* ''"^-^ P«^<^"te<l 
 «r relative predicaments du^ rS, ""' ^'""' '" *''« ^<^^t of 
 ^.-ew, of course, that my liit f nt f r™^ *'vo hours or so. J 
 ™»g till I was „p and gone haWn f"°;' """'' ""* tWnk of 
 
 ""gl't reasonably iem ■> b yondt ,! I! "r,'" ''"''^ ^l^-^ ^= 
 
 yom the possibility of discovery, l,o 
 
 G 
 
 : Mi 
 
 y % 
 
 Mi 
 
nW 
 
 I ! ' 
 
 1G2 
 
 EEMARXABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 
 W 
 
 >i 
 
 ii 
 
 II 
 
 was doubtless prepared to outface any suspicion or accusation that 
 uiiuflit bo made against him, and therefore he would lie there until 
 he had the field to himself. Accordingly, about seven o'clock I 
 got up, deliberately washed and dressed, and, having finislied 
 my toilet, was almost ready to start, being well aware all the while 
 that the fellow, who was feigning sleep, had his eyes upon me, and 
 was watching for tlie moment when I should discover my loss. Of 
 coui-se I did not discover it ; but when I had drawn on my boots, 
 and was ready to go, I heca.me suddenly aware that the atmospheit- 
 of the room was insulTerably close, and began to puff and blow, and 
 ejaculate interjoctional complaints of the want of air ; at the next 
 moment I ran to the window, threw it wide with one hand, and 
 leaning forward as if to catch the morning bre(.'ze, awkwaidly 
 swept off the flower-pot down into the little court seventy leet bcdovv. 
 
 In an instant tiie seeming sleeper was standing in his shirt on 
 the middle of the floor, and demanding with an angry oath what I 
 had done. 
 
 *•' Nothing," said I, " beyond breaking a flower-pot — tlif* plant 
 was withered and good for nothing. Excuse my awkwardness ; 1 
 will indemnify the landlady. Gmjd morning." 
 
 My nonchalance dGcei'';ed the scoundrel, and he stood aside ti> 
 let me pass, looking luther black, however, as I walked out. Therr 
 socinied. to l.>e no o?it: astir in the house save ^he //ar^<7«-, who was 
 roasting coffee at the opeo front door ; and I was only made awar< 
 of him by the agreeable fumes which assailed my nostrils, as I 
 ^i|)ed like a gi*ey hound down the stairs. In half a minute I was I'i 
 the little back court, where lay the smashed remains of the pot 
 and thv-^ withered flower. Feeling morally cei-tain that the shock 
 head and scowling visage of the thief weri^ protrndi^ig frcni tha 
 window above, I drew the canvas bag from the criiinl »led dry moukl, 
 and held it up to his gaze. There he was, sure enougli, growling 
 and ifrriii'lini]: his teeth with raq;c and m')itincation. 
 
 J'ricju 
 ■ aen 
 
 JiJons 
 
 ''viiarv 
 'Wend 
 
 .'■^'H gi 
 
 "f thoi 
 
 'Jou'n 
 
 hanof> 
 
 ''^'•'*r-atii 
 
 ' ''■■"/so; 
 
A NIGHT ADVENITRE IN PARIS. 
 
 1G3 
 
 hat 
 ntil 
 k I 
 
 and 
 Of 
 
 )O0tS, 
 
 , and 
 ^, next 
 d, awl 
 ,vardly 
 bt^low. 
 [lirt on 
 what 1 
 
 plant 
 
 Iness; 1 
 
 vsidc to 
 Tbeiv 
 
 le awiiK 
 [Is, as i 
 
 was lii 
 
 [rem tae 
 ly moul^i. 
 
 " Why don't yon cry * Stop thief?' " 1 bawled out to liim. 
 '• Dill you think to catch the Eng^lishman asleep? Au n.^roir, 
 
 >> 
 
 (oquin 
 
 I waited no reply, but making for the street, jumped into the 
 M-st fiaore that came in \'iew, and in half an hour had alighted at 
 i!iy own io<lging. As I was mounting to my apartment, ait qua- 
 frii'me, 1 met on the stairs my friend and chum Ollendorf, who was 
 > illyhig forth to meet his morning pupils. 
 
 '• ilalloo !" said he, '* you've been out all night ?" 
 
 *' Yes," said I, '- and I've had an adventure." 
 
 *' Ciood ! let me hear all about it." 
 
 I told bin) how I had passed the night, and all that had 
 b^ppened. 
 
 " Capital !" he cried; '''and have you examined the thief's bag?" 
 
 " No, I have not done that yet ; but of course it contains nothing 
 iju( what is mv own;" 
 
 " Do not l>e too surf: of that. Come, we will examine it together." 
 
 Re followed me into my nx)ra, and I lugged forth the bag, 
 i elinjr confident that the fertile imagination of my philological 
 iiiend had misled him, as it was apt to do. To my astonishment 
 here were in the l>ag, in addition to the money rifled from my 
 iwket, a. gold napol<eon, a iive-franc piece, and a pair of enor- 
 uiousiy large circular »'antngs of alloy erl gold, su(!h as one often 
 -'t^s in the ears of h.^ provijicial immigrants who crowd the 
 .vharves, th<* markets, and warehouses of Paris. " There !" said my 
 ■rioiid, *' yon see that, the rascal had more strings to his bow than 
 yf»u gave* him credit for. If you had made an uproar and a charge 
 if t'icft, lie could have veUyriiA the cliarge upon you — would liavo 
 ■lown his own empty poek^a, and luight liavo stood as good a 
 hance of criminating you as yon of criminating him. However, 
 <v>u may forgive him, since he has pai<t you for the trouble of 
 defeating his purpose; and really, i think )i< lias treated you 
 ' -^nHsMnirdv." 
 
 II 
 
mt 
 
 HRMAHKAHLR ADVENTUHRf^. 
 
 •' Auuinsf his will ; but, porionslv, wliat ouij:li( T to (!o? ILul 1 not 
 bottor |mt iho atVair into iho hands of tlu> |)olico?" 
 
 " Do yon know tl\o rnlo in snrli rasoH lioro? If not, I nin.st ttill 
 yon that if yon jnit thothic'fH nionoy into the han(l« of iho ]M>li('(', 
 yon will jiIro Im^ oompollod to hand over tlu^ wholo contonta of liio 
 hao^ ; «ni(l how ninch of it yon will {»;ot hjiok, and w/un you will got 
 any, yo\i ninat ho oh»V(M*or than 1 am if yoii can puosH." 
 
 I linally dot^dod n'4 to tronhio iho ])olio(» with tho bnsinrsa; hui 
 as 1 <'onld not have nuido nso of tho Hconndnd's nionoy, any nioro 
 ihan 1 oonld havo worn tho hngo oarrin^s, I wra|»|>od both np in 
 ]>Mp<n' togc^thor, and phuvd iluMu in my ])ook<'t-book until tinii^ 
 and inronnistanriM should prosoni son\o lit and propor mode of dis- 
 posinjr of ih(Mn. 
 
 It wa^i alHint a yoiiv aftor tho above advontaro, and when tlu* 
 d(^t:\ils of it had almost fadod from my nuMuory, that 1 was invit<>(l 
 bv a friimd from liUijjInnd to aooom])anv him on a visit to on«> of 
 the Parisian prisons — if 1 rocolloct ri«;ht it was tho Now Ihcotrr, 
 which, aftor a deal of solicitation and trouble, ho liad obtained poi- 
 mission to ins[XH't. Whilo wo woro wandorinj; ilirongh iho work- 
 slumps, in which tho prisoners laboiu' together in silcnco for so 
 many houi*s a day, as my fricMid was committing: his notes to jiiipis-. 
 I amused mys(^lf by ,seannin<>; the (hMuoralized pliysioj^nomics 
 around me, little susp(^ctin«»; that I was destined to luid an ac- 
 (juaintanee among them. Close to my <dbow' there stood a man nt 
 a bench, bending over liis work, wliich was that of carving sabols 
 from unshapely blocks of willow wood. 1 was adnuring the rapidity 
 and lH>ldness of his execution, when ho suddenly lifted his hciul 
 and ex|)osed to view the face, which 1 hud formerly studied with 
 such deliberation, of the thief of the Hue do TOdeon. 1 knew him 
 at once, and sjiw that the rtH'ognition was mutual, for ho lowcroil 
 liis head agjiin instantly, and plainly sought to elude my gaze. I 
 could not, of course, spcnk to him then, without eontravciiing the 
 rules o( the prison : but on imparting my wish to do so to the 
 
AN ADVilNTrRE AT TKTT^A. 
 
 lo.-i 
 
 not 
 
 \ jrrV 
 
 ; but 
 111 on > 
 lip in 
 tiiin^ 
 )f (Uh- 
 
 vn tlu^ 
 luvitod 
 
 ouo c>r 
 
 LUcetir, 
 
 0(1 I'ov- 
 worlx- 
 i'or so 
 pM\M»r, 
 
 uomi*'!^ 
 nil tic- 
 uuin ill 
 sabots 
 •apitUty 
 is Uoiul 
 0(1 svitU 
 lew liin^ 
 Unvo.roJ 
 
 7.0. 1 
 
 lung tli^' 
 to tl\o 
 
 l^juldo who IumI 115* in i'lmr<^o, ho proinisod to ^iv(^ mo ihv, oppor- 
 tunity I Hon^Hjt, whf»n wo iuul liniHlird our miivoy. Ilo was jw 
 <^H>(1 ns \m word, and holorn hMivini:^ tho prison I wmh <'oii(hici(Hl to 
 th(^ (h>lin(piont in liis own coll, whithor \w hud boon romuinhul that 
 I niiglit 800 liini. 'I'ho poor wrotoli who, it was (doar, isiniKirird 
 tliiit. T WUH g<)inf!j to lod^^o a IVosh ohar^jjt* jif^aiiiHt him, Hoomo<l struck 
 with a mortal pahiicHH uh J ent«'rod. 
 
 " Do not bo ahirn'od," I said ; " I luivo no comphiint to n»ako 
 agaiuHt you ; but I havo l)oon winliin^ to nn^ot you, and to nuiko a 
 rcHtoration of property wliich may |)orhapH b(^ of uh<? to you." I 
 unlbldcMl my pockot-book an<l took out thc^ litthf pnckot containin*^ 
 
 i\ 
 
 10 
 
 nn[) 
 
 )]o(U). tin* iivo-i'ranc pioco, and liio oarrintr 
 
 ingH. 
 
 (( 
 
 'J'l 
 
 lOHC, 
 
 1 
 
 think, belong to you — is it not so?" 
 lb' bow(Ml assont, but did not npoak 
 
 ** Take thorn," I said, ** and tako Imttor (Miro of tliom than you 
 did wh(Mi you liad thorn hist." 
 
 Ib» glanc(Ml at tho attonihint, as if to intimai » tliat tho man's 
 piTsoiico provcnt(Ml his saying moro, an<l moroly replied, witJi iin- 
 pn^ssivo oarnostnoss, " M'sieu, you are a man of honour !" 
 
 1 wished I <'ould return the oomijlimont. 
 
 AN ADVKNTUIIK AT VV/niA. 
 
 In {\w early part of tLj si)ring of last year I had joinofl a i)aity 
 ^vlu) proposed journi^ying from (airo to J(;rusalem by what is 
 usually calhul the " hmg desert njuto," ])assing by Mount Sinai, 
 Akabali, and tho famous rock-hewn city of P<;tra. Our party con- 
 sisli'd of nine Englishmen, one of whom wius accom[)aniod by his 
 wife, and our dragoman. Mohammed (;iozoni had formerly travelled 
 over the sann^ ground with the Kev. A. 1*. Stanley, whose recent 
 
 y-y 
 
 ; :iffl 
 

 IGG 
 
 IIEMATIK ABLE ADVENT U IlKS. 
 
AN ADVENTURE AT PETRA. 
 
 167 
 
 (> 
 
 work on Sinai tind Palestine has attracted so much attention. 
 After spending several days amid the sublime scenery that encircles 
 Horeb, the " mount of God," we travelled on to Abibah, at the 
 liead of the easternmost of the two arras of the Red Sea; and hero 
 we met with the first contretemps of our journey. 
 
 It is well known that Petra is in possession of a tribe of Bedouins, 
 who are perhaps the most thievish and rulliauly of the Ishmaclito 
 race. Indeed, the Fellaheen of Wady Lleasn, as they are called, 
 rely almost entirely for subsistence upon the suras which they arc 
 able to extort from passing travellers ; and their outrageous 
 demands and conduct towards the few who have penetrated iut 
 their fastnesses, have caused the majority of tourists to avoid Petra, 
 iis they would have avoided the highland glen of Kob Koy in the 
 palmy days of that redoubtable freebooter. It was alraost at the 
 risk of their lives that Irby and ]\[angles visited this spot in 1818 : 
 Dr. Kobinson was obliged to make a hasty retreat before he had 
 explored half its wonders ; and Burckhardt could only succeed in 
 seeing it at all by assuming the disguise of a Mohammedan pilgrim. 
 Latterly, however, the danger attending a visit to Petra seemed t 
 have been much diminished. Sheikh Hussein, the powerful head 
 of the Alouin tribe of Arabs, had made his power felt even by the 
 lawless Fellaheen of Wady Mousa ; and for some years past had 
 been in the habit of escorting travellers through their territory, at 
 the fixed rate of 11. for each traveller ; in return for which pay- 
 ment he guaranteed full protection both to life and property. We 
 had left Caii'o in the full expectation of securing this slioikh on 
 those terms. Judge, then, of our disappointment on learning, when 
 we arrived at Akabah, that Hussein was at a distance of eight days 
 in the interior of the country, engaged in a war with a rival tribe, 
 and possessed neither of leisure nor inclination to escort us to Petra, 
 Our position wixs now rather a vexatious one. The Arabs who had 
 accompanied us hitherto refused to go further with us, as tlieir 
 
 () 
 
 i 
 
 \i i 
 
 f : 
 
 III 
 ■i 
 
HIS 
 
 1{1;!MAHKA1U,K AnVKNTHHIW. 
 
 m 
 
 lir '^f 
 
 ,11 
 
 m 
 
 iY\\)o ]\iu\ Mil o\{\ \'o\u\ \\'\\h lli(» l'\^lljiluMM» of W «mIv I^rousM ; ninl il 
 >vns ns \\\\\{A\ «s tlwMr livoH wow woHli to V(Mi1nro into \]\o hMritoi y 
 of tluMi* implaoahlo fo<>s. Alono, it wjw of coiirso JTnpoHwihh' to 
 ]>n)(MMHl ; and wo 1k\«1 iu> ooiiiw* ojhmi to n.s Imi oitlicr to tuki' 
 iiuotluM* ainl vory oinMiitoiis rout(^ to l^llostino, (Mitiroly omitting 
 rotra. or olso to v<Mitun» into that ancient capital of Iduntoa malir 
 iho pn>l<vtion of anotluM- triho of Aral>H. tl>o Tiyahas, whoso Hlioikli, 
 tliougli on p^ooil t(M'n\s witli tho l'\»llali(v»n, yot lia<l no mv\\ <'ontrol 
 ovor tb(Mn as \\\u\ S\\v'\\ih Hnsscin. AftcM* HonuMleliboration, >vo 
 (looid<Ml on tlio latt«M' of thosi* ooni*s«^s ; and to tho same oonrliiHiou 
 «'ann^ also tlnvi* otlior ]>arti(^s, wln'oh W(» moi at Akabali, and >vhos(» 
 plans, like onr own, h.id 1>«hm\ d<M'angod by tho failuro of onr 
 <^xp(Vt(Hl osoort. Aivordingly, oiir unitcMl caravan, now consiHtin^ 
 o( tW(Mdy-ono Knropi^ans — tlnv(» of thorn huhos — Hoi olV, by tho 
 i>:roat \\i\\ roa(i, in tho diro(^tion of Nahkl, a solitary tort in thr 
 ih^soit o( VA Till, and tho In^ad »pia' '(»rs of tin* trib(» from which 
 wo hoped (o obtain a gnard to l\»tra. 
 
 Wo reached this place on tho fomth day after leaving Akabah. 
 and had to wnit thnn* davs nn>ro whilst a sntlicient nund)or of 
 
 ft' 
 
 camels were being collected for our further progn^ss. Our now 
 protoctoi's from the tii^st gave us to undei>itnnd that they would 
 hnve nothing to do with any ditticulty which might arise betwcn 
 oni-Si^lvoa and the Fellaluvn at IVtra. Tln^y wore willing to take 
 us there, but refused to givt^ any guarantin* against extortion or 
 violence. And socinir wo I'ould obtain tlnMr escort on no better 
 tenns. wo woiv obliged to content ourselves with such as they 
 oiHered. Wt^ wi^ro, howt^ver, oncom-aged by tho thought that it 
 was by no means im]x^ssiblo to got into Petra and out again with- 
 out the Arabs knowing anything of our visit, till it was too late for 
 the pur]>oses of roblvry. The Fellaheen do not live in Petrn 
 itself, but in a village two miles distant ; and we ilattered oui-selves 
 that by a little extra caution and expedition, wo might altogether 
 
AN ADVKNTIHR AT I'KTIIA. 
 
 1(1!) 
 
 .1 il 
 or) 
 » to 
 
 lulrv 
 
 ulrol 
 
 n, wo 
 \iHiou 
 
 if o\ir 
 liHtiuj: 
 >y 0\o 
 
 <'M(»M|)i» il loncontro witli thoHo nipiicioim houh of tlu> (IohpH. How 
 inistnliPii wo won* in our rnlculiitioiiH will proHontly up|MMir. 
 
 \\ took us llvo (layH to go from Nalikl to Mount llor, tho most 
 oonHpicuoUH lundnmrk in i)i(t w(*Htrrn border of I'idoin. From ilii.s 
 point, II narrow and viM-y difficult \m\hh, of tliroo hours in longtli, 
 introdiiood ua to tlu^ In^ftrt of the un(>i(>nt Soir, a wil<l diHtrict of 
 rock and glen, prccipico and ravine, with hero and there a little 
 ohhIs of v»>rdnn\ hut, as a general rule, of a harron and savago 
 UHpcct. It was late in the 4»vening of 'rhursday, the 'Jnd of April, 
 wluMi we hI^mmI on a height overlooking tho ruins of J*etra, which 
 filled a HpuciouH valh»y of aljout a mile in length, with numoroiiH 
 oflVhootH running back in all directions among tho niountuins. 
 lufore we rcMiclu^d this spot, si^veral of our party had taken tho 
 opj)ortunity to ascend Mount llor, tlu^ view from which was suhlimo 
 in tho oxtre!uo. Tho wholo country app(^ared like a heaving sea, 
 whose waves had suddenly be(»n converted into stone. 
 
 The ground chos(>n for our <;n<'ampment was a grassy platc^au, 
 about one hundn^d yards Hijuare, connnand(Ml on three sides by 
 procipitous ro(^ks, honeycombed with tombs and caverns, and on the 
 lourlh shelving steeply (h)wn into a wi(h^ valh^, that wns probably 
 till* principal stroj^tof the city in nncient tim(\s. The only mcians of 
 exit was by tho i)ass through which wo had entered, which at this 
 extremity was not more than six or irght firet wide, and was shut 
 ill on either side by tall and rugg<'d cliHs. Th(^ proccsss of pitching 
 oiu- tcMits was rendered somewhat longer* than usual by the necessity 
 \Nc were under of searching for snakes, scorpions, and (Mritipedes, 
 »omv, do'/iris of which were killed by tho Arabs in a very short 
 ^nuT of time. In other respects oin* situation was pleasant enough. 
 It was dry and sheltorod ; tlu? vie^w over tho ruins was exceedingly 
 line, and tlui ground was covered with shrubs, grass, and wild 
 flowers, tho first wo had soon for many weary wc'cks of de.'seit 
 truvt.'l. Ijut as a strategical position it was utterly worthless. \V(^ 
 
 g2 
 
 
 \ 
 
 t 
 
 m 
 
 n 
 
 
 hi 
 
 I 
 
 I" 
 
 t 
 
 r 
 
 
 
|U 
 
 170 
 
 i;r:M.\!:K.MW,E ADVi:NT;M;r:s. 
 
 lb 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 woro romplctoly u( i\\o morry of any on<' wlu» hold tlio lioi/i^hf^ 
 arouiul im, ami could Im picKod «»IV willi |M»rr«M'1, oano. hy nifirliMfncii 
 ronciMilcMl in {\\o cMVi'H iiiid lu'liiud Hio dotiifluMl na^8, witliout «»iir 
 «Mt<'hin^ ovou n ^limpso of our nssfiilaiits. And to iittompt Ww 
 piissiijvo or flu* ddilo l)y which wo hud ontcMVHl, whoTi iho rocks on 
 citluM' «id<MV(^ro held hycncMnioH, wotild bo l»nt to |)rovol<(» a n»po(i- 
 tion of tin* Khyhor trn-icdy on a sniall Hoalo. This, howovor, Wii^ 
 \ho only p^o«>d oanipinf^ gnaind in tho plaoo. 
 
 Wo woro ra<h(M' snrprisod, on arriving at (ho spot ahovodj^Horibcd. 
 io tind it oo«M]pi(Ml by a ]>arty of abont twolvo Knf^lish and Aniori- 
 oMns, whom W(» had pivviously niot at Caiix). Thoy had arrivcMl nl 
 AUnbah a fow days aft or wo hud <piittod it, and had wiooo«»dod in 
 tindinjr an Aloiiin, of sonio w<Mp;ht with his trilw — Alxairasohid, .1 
 rolativo of Sheikh Hussoin's — who had undortnUon to oonduot them 
 to r<^tra on tcM-ms similar to thoso on whicli wo had ngrood willi 
 tho Tiyahns. Our frionds had shown nion^ forosifyht than wo had: 
 i\\o\ had loft th(Mr t(Mits nnd bagc^ap^o on tho othor sido of Mount 
 I lor, and had n^ad(\ as it w<mt. a tlying inotirsion into tho dangoroi^ 
 tiMTJIorv, brini::inir with tlu^ni but tho barost noc^'ssarioa of food and 
 Ixntdinii:, and on(^ sniall tout for a lady who was in their party. Tlic 
 n st W(^r(^ oontiMitod to slo(^p in tho tombs and oaves duji; in tlic 
 nx'k. Th(\v had postivl scouts in all directions, had their dronn - 
 (l.jrios w^Minvl in a ravine close by, and were ready to clear off al 
 tho iii'st intimation of a]>proachinf^ danger. The wisdom of thcso 
 precautions will be a]>pannit in the sequel. 
 
 We, who had biinitrht all onr t(nit« and oqnipap;e, encamp(vl in 
 tlio usual way, and our cann^ls wore soon wid(^ly dispersed in soarcli 
 of pasturairo. The first night psissixl without any alarm. Not ;i 
 hostile IVdouin was to Ih> seen, and w<^ began to augur favourably 
 for the success of our ex[>edition, and to joke our friends on thoir 
 ur.ntvcssary caution and watchfulness. The night, indeed, proved 
 so cold, that thcv half recretted havinj? left their tents behind, and 
 
AN AF)VI»lVT>ini; AT PKTTZA. 
 
 171 
 
 \ii our 
 
 pi til.' 
 
 Amcri- 
 
 IMVCmI 111 
 
 [hM i\i 
 
 ct lluMii 
 >o(l with 
 wo lijul ; 
 f Moiuit 
 
 food an<l 
 
 ty. 'nu> 
 
 o; in till' 
 • drouM'- 
 ar off i>^ 
 of tUesr 
 
 I, jirovocl 
 kind aiul 
 
 'vrro ^h\<\ to lUTopt, Hiioli n'TommojIution us wo wniiM ofT'rr tlioni in 
 ) (rnipoiHry liiibitntioriH. 
 
 At HM oarly lionr in tho nu)rninf^ wo woro nNtir, nnd oxplorin^^ 
 tho wonclors of thip nnnpni city. ]{nh('rtR'« hrHniifnl lifliofrmpliicr 
 vi(»WH ^!:ivo H vory ^ood idoa of tJir ji^cncTal app^'anuuM' of (fin niiiiH, 
 wliifli cotiHist of lioiisoH, toniploH, and fotnhs hown ont. of tlif^ wmd- 
 MtotM» rock, wln'«'h in licro roniarkalilc* for tlio varii'ly inid riflniosH of 
 ilM tinlH, «lispoH(Ml ill wavint^ Htroakw and fantaHlic niarhlo paftcrnH, 
 MM p<»onliar and nni(pio as tliry aro rnafj^nilii'ont. In a. few wpian; 
 fpot, of rook you 8oo li^lit pink, doop oriinson, all llio iniorniodiato 
 shadosof rod, oranp:o, .safVron, purpio, ^ro<Mi, frroy,and nuniorouHotlior 
 rolonrs, dispoHod wilJi mom iMianiy of ofVd'ct than wan over dinplayo^l 
 l>y inodom lioiiso dooomtor, and uBtonirthinf^ tlm boholdor by tJw^ 
 ropniarity and hannony with wliicjh thoy an5 bhnnlod. It, is worth 
 visiliiifT Pctra to udniiro this wonderful phonomerion of natnro, 
 nlono. 
 
 Tho facjadofl of noarly ail the ox(;avHtions aro onrichod witli (ino 
 Fonipturo and architectural ornannuits. Those aro rdiietly pilastorn 
 niul oornioos, oarvcul doorways an<l windows, and balustnidod torraces 
 n|>proachcd by sbiiroasc'S cut out of the solid rook. It is calculated 
 that these rock dw<dlinp^ would afl'ord accommodation for a popula- 
 tion of thirty thousand. Tlio theatn^, which, like the rest of tho 
 city, is hown out of the natural rock, would scat an audience of fiv(^ 
 tlioiisand. Tliis ruin has one very peculiar feature. Tlu* cliflH 
 that surround it, and also those fiwiin^ it on the op{K)site side of 
 tlio valley, are perforated with innumerable caves, the tombs of the 
 foruuT inhabitants of IV'tra. It is in fact the centre of an immenwi 
 renietcry ; and the thoughtless tJironf^ that crowdfjd its benches 
 must have always had before their ciyes the solemn mementoes of 
 th(Mr own mortality. How stronj^ly would a thoughtful mind liave 
 been impressed by this juxtaposition of sepulchral scones and the 
 cruel and frivolous sports of the ancient amphitheatre I But it is 
 
 
 ■V 
 
 It '* ' 
 
 'I 
 
 
 i:ii 
 
172 
 
 REMAKKADLK ADVENTUKEH. 
 
 to 1)0 feared that the lioatlum multitiuloH who iissemhletl lu?re woro 
 wliolly ins<Misil)lo to the Horious refleotlcms which might have bopii 
 snggcMted by the strange H|K*etaclo aroniid tliem. 
 
 Het'i)re I go any further in tlio aceonnt ^f my own visit to Petrn, 
 ])(Mha])s tliere are some of my renders who may wish to know u 
 little about the history of that wonderful city. 
 
 <) 
 
 CU APT Ell II. 
 
 The city of Petra is supposed to have been founded about the 
 time of Abraham, for it was then that the Edomites first began to 
 assume imjwrtanee tus a nation. It was taken by Amaziah, king (»!' 
 Judah, but did not remain long in his possession; and very soon 
 afterwards the original inhabitants themselves, the Idumeans, were 
 expelled by a new tribe from the south-east, the Nabathtcans, who, 
 from the account given of them by Diodonis Siculus, appear tu 
 have very much resembled the mode rn Bedouins in character and 
 mode of life. Petra now became tiie capital of this people, wh 
 succeeded in maintaining their independence against numerous 
 invaders, nntil the time of the Koman emperor Trajan, by whoiu 
 tliey were finally subdued. Petra afterwards became a Christian 
 city, and the see of an archbishop ; but when the false prophci 
 Mohammed began his career of conquest, this city was one of the 
 first to submit to his arms. It is now completely deserted, and its 
 present desolate condition furnislies a wonderful proof of the trutli 
 of prophecy. For instance, Isaiah predicted that "none shall pass 
 through it for ever." And this is now undoubtedly the case, for 
 Petra is the universally shunned of travellers ; and though formerly 
 the high road of commerce from the east to the west, its ravines 
 now only occasionally resound with the hurried footsteps of ii 
 P»edouin, or a chance wayfarer. Indeed, the whole of the prophec} 
 from which the above words are taken has been literally fulfilled ; 
 
AN ADVENTimK AT rKTIlA. 
 
 173 
 
 woro 
 now II 
 
 and travellers who read its iiwful donuiiciationa on the 8|H)t8 to 
 which tlu^y rol'or, aro con»trainod to acknowlodpo that not ono jot 
 or ono titth' has failed of acoompIiHhmont. As Kzokiel says, "All 
 wlw pass byhor aro astonished." I may add that th(^ greater part 
 of the ruins date from the later ufrvn of tho Koman empini, and 
 thonph very magnificent and profusely adorned with sculpture, 
 evince a debased and corrupt taste in architecture, vc^ry difTerent to 
 the noble ideas embodied in tho temph's and monuments of ancient 
 ( f ree<^e. 
 
 When we returned to breakftwt, aftcT tlio explorations described 
 in the previous paper, wo were disposed to exult in the fn^edom 
 from trouble which we seemed likely to enjoy. Hitherto not an 
 Arab had made his appearance ; and already, in imagination, we 
 were safe on tho other side of the vlreaded pass, congratulating t)ur- 
 selves on having outwitted the robbers who inhabit these fastn(3sses. 
 With these feelings of false security w<; started again, about 10 a.m., 
 to complete our researches in the valley. We first visited the 
 Khuzneh, tho most famous sight of Petra — a noble temple, or 
 palace, with a riclily-decorated fa<;ade cut out of a towering mass of 
 rose-coloured sandstone. This faqade is about a hundred teet high, 
 and is surmounted by a colossal uni, which the Arabs imagine 
 contains the " treasures of king Pharaoh." In the; hope of gaining 
 this treasure, they have fired so frequently at this urn, that its 
 surface is now pitted with the dints of innumerable bullets. They 
 have also tried to reach the coveted prize by cutting holes for the; 
 hands and feet in the smooth face of tho precipice, but appear to 
 have given up in despair at a height of some seventy-five feet. It 
 is impossible, by words alone, to give an adequate idea of tlie noble 
 appearance of this Khuzneh : a cry of admiration involuntarily 
 escaped our lips as we caught the first glimpse of it on emerging from 
 a fragrant thicket of oleanders, tamarisks, and wild fig-trees. We 
 spent fully an hour in studying it from various points of view, and 
 
 :ll 
 
 i-li 
 
 u 
 
 .»! 
 
 I 
 
 \i 
 
 i'\ 
 
 if 
 I 
 
 
 V I i 
 
 I 
 
 ^ I- 
 
 1 
 
 s 
 
 r. 'I 
 
 ■- r ■ t 
 
174 
 
 KKMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 
 aii1iclpatr(i with p^reat interest a seeond visit on our return from 
 tho Sik, wliich we now proooded to explore. 
 
 TJio Sik is a long winding ravine, of a width varying from 12 to 
 20 feet, and ovorliung by stupendous crags of a deep crimson huo, 
 some of them rising to a height of nearly 250 feet. The sublimity 
 of this defile is beyond conception, but it is also not devoid of a 
 kind of beauty ; for it is filled with dwarf trees and shrubs ; dcli- 
 (!ate ferns and creepers hang from its walla of rock ; and a clear 
 cool brook runs amongst tho stones in its bottom, forming here a 
 j)ool, and there a mimic cataract, and then perhaps diving for u 
 lime from view beneath a mass of rock or an overhanging canopy 
 of foliage and flowers. 
 
 We had proceeded for about a mile and a half up this ravine, 
 and had just come in sight of a broken Roman arch that spans its 
 further extremity, when, on turning a comer, '.ve were struck 
 dumb by the unexpected apparition of some twenty ruifianly 
 looking Bedouins, armed with guns, swords, and clubs, and running 
 to meet us with wild yells and wilder gestures. We were un- 
 armed ; but had we been otherwise, resistance would have been 
 out of the question ; for we could see and hear numbers of i'r(?8li 
 assfiilants scrambling over the rocks in our direction, and we were 
 presently surrounded and made prisoners by as ferocious and 
 ragged a set of bandits as I ever wish to come in contact with. 
 They forthwith made us turn back, and tumultuously hurried us 
 in the direction of our camp, shouting and firing their long guns in 
 z\ie air, till the lofty precipices of the Sik re-echoed with a din 
 almost sufficient to have split the solid rock. It was about noon 
 when our researches among the ruins of Petra were brought to 
 this sudden and unexpected termination. 
 
 Our friends, the party of twelve, must have received an early 
 intimation of the approaching danger ; for on our arrival at the 
 camp, we found them mounted and on the point of moving off. 
 
\i 
 
 AN ADVENTURE AT PETRA. 
 
 175 
 
 T]»o Arabs were aa yet hardly in suffirient foive to prevent their 
 departure, but they might liavo eaused them considerable aunoy- 
 jince and eyen injury ; therefore it was thought advisubhi to con- 
 ciliate their forbearance by the payment of a sum of money, 
 jiraounting to about ten pounds. The Arabs were tho more ready 
 to accept this, inasmuch as they felt that we were completely in 
 their power, and, with all our tents and baggage, formed a far 
 more valuable prey than our lightly equipped friends. Yet it was 
 not in the Bedouin nature to strike the bargain without a li)iii>: 
 wrangle, and the scene which preceded the final scttUng was nut 
 at all calculated to reassure us as to tho success of any ellbrts wo 
 might be disposed to make to reduce tho demands of our un- 
 sci-upuious captors. At last our friends departed without oj)[)osi- 
 tion ; we gazing wistfully after them, and feeling that they could 
 now afford to laugh at us with much more reason than we had 
 laughed at them on the previous evening. 
 
 No sooner had they gone tlian the Arabs fell upon us wJth 
 doubled importunity ; and as their numbers augmented, so did 
 their demands. Every half-hour brought in fresh reinforcements, 
 jind by about five in the afternoon there could not have been fewer 
 than two hundred and fifty of these brigands gathered around our 
 tents. Some of them seized the surrounding heights and the 
 defile by which we hoped to escape, menacing us from thence with 
 levelled guns. Others prowled about tho tents, demanding gun- 
 powder, food, money, and such of our personal property an took 
 their fancy. But by far tho greatest number crowded round our 
 dragoman, in whose iiands we had left the whole matter, simply 
 commissioning him to get us off on the best terms he could. This, 
 indeed, was our only course, for it woidd have been madness to 
 have attempted force against enemies so superior in numbers 
 and position. Whilst Mohammed was carrjing on a stormy 
 negotiation with the Arabs, we were allowed, under a strong 
 
 t '■ 
 
 t. i 
 
 ( )i 
 
 I :ri 
 

 17(] 
 
 llEMABKABLE ADVENTURFp. 
 
 guard, to visit the Doir, another very fine monument of the 
 aneifnit city. 
 
 On returninf^, wo f'onnd our unwelcome > isitors more insolent 
 iind exorbitant than ever in their demavids, which amounted iu th«» 
 whole to upNMUxis of a lumdrod pounds. They had already levied 
 considerable contributionH from the dragoman, in the shape of 
 sugar, cotVee, biscuit, etc. ; and one of our party, refusing sonu 
 gunpowd(?r to an Arab who asked for it, had a knife put to his 
 throat by the ill-favoured ruffian. The IVlIaheen wero now gettinir 
 irritated bv our resistance to their extortion ; and when our dinn( r 
 was about to be served, a number of them gathered tumultuously 
 round the fires, and declared that not a dish nhould be removed 
 imtil we hud given them a full meal or an equivalent in money. 
 Our wliole stock of provisions would not have been enough for a 
 third of their number ; and m they pertinaciously insisted on thtsii' 
 demand, we were at last obliged to pay them thirty dollars (abo it 
 (]/.) for permisaion to eat our own dinners. As K)on as they hal 
 receiv(3d this, tlie earnest of a richer harvest which they hoped en^ 
 long to reap, they set up a shout of triumph, marched in disorderly 
 procession round the camp, firing olT their pieces in the air ; and 
 then, for the most part, dispersed nmong the neighbouring caverns 
 and tombs, leaving, how(:ver, a guard of some sixty men to watcli 
 our movements, and see that we did not give them the sli{> in tlie 
 <lar!v. These desperadoes amused themselves during tli»3 niglit 
 with tiring ever o\ir tents, doubtless with the design of frightening 
 us into surrender ; and several bullets passed through the canvas 
 that shelt^n'ed me and I wo of my jom[)anions. 
 
 Wo had taken care to collect our camels on the previous even- 
 ing, and before dayliglit we began to strike our tents and pack oiu* 
 baggage. The gmirds ofl'ered no opposition to these procecxlings, 
 but thev sent word of tlicm to tlio rest of the band ; and soon from 
 every hoh^ in tite rocks around us issued troops i>f excit«.(l 
 
AN ADVENTURE AT I'ETHA. 
 
 177 
 
 eveii- 
 'k our 
 
 ixeitcil 
 
 Bedouins. It was a wild and strikin^^ sight prestaited by thes<' 
 children of Ishmael, as they clambered down from their reHtiiij:^ 
 places, and swarmed through the ravines, their garments streaming 
 behind them, and the air resounding with tlieir yells of defiance. 
 Our poor dragoman was instantly beset by a furious throng, and 
 wo watched the conference with no little anxietv. Once or twice 
 ii rush was marie to the nxkni tliat encircled our cum}Mng ground, 
 and then we fully expectr^d tliat a volley wan about to be poured 
 in upon us ; but, through the care of a wjttchful IVovidence, our 
 adventure liad no such tragical finale. In this we were more 
 fortunate than a party of Americans, who three months previously 
 liad visited Petra, and, refusing to comply with the domiuids of 
 the Fellaheen, had been Ih'ed u]X)n from those veiy r^jcks with 
 iatal result; for their cook was killed, and one of themselves 
 dangerously wounded in the leg. 'llu; success of th*^ Arabs on 
 that (X!caaion had probably emboldened them in their atta/^k u})on 
 us; and, indeed, one of their number, a pov/tirful, dark-looking 
 f<.4low, repeatedly IxMisted that it was he who had shot the Anujri- 
 <an cook, and that he was quitt^ ready to serve our dragoman in 
 the same wav. 
 
 This dragoman really b';haved tK^.mirablr. Althougli menaced 
 by half a dozen gun-barrels presenti'd at his p(Tson, Ik^ kept his 
 temper, laughed and joked with his captors, and exerted his utmost 
 effoits on our behalf. At last he sent us word that we might move 
 on, for he had satisfactorily arranged all matters. Jhit his permis- 
 sion to depart was valueless, unendorsed by our watchful guards. 
 Xo soo'T did they p Tceive us advancing towards the edge of tlie 
 |>lateau, than a crowd of volunteers scrambled over the rocks to 
 join those who were already in possession of th(* pass; and as our 
 lending camel entered the narnnv gorge, half a dozen brawny 
 ravages leaped down before it, put their guns to the driver's breast, 
 and efleetually stopped our further progress, for the path was only 
 
 ;/ : 
 
 I. J ■ ^ 
 
 
 ■l> 
 
 «l 
 
 >« ^1 
 
 , ! 
 
 ■i; 
 
n 
 
 II, i 
 
 178 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 
 
 wide enonp^h for one camel to pass at a time. At the same moment 
 the Bedouins, perched on the cliffs around us, lighted their matches 
 and levelled their guns at our heads, threatening us with a volley 
 if we advanced another step. It seems that our dragoman liad 
 agreed to pay three hundred and ninety-three dollars as our 
 jansom, but the Fellalieen insisted on twenty-seven more, and 
 <leclared that unless all their demands were at once conceded, they 
 would plunder our baggage and strip ourselves to the skin, killing 
 any one who resisted ; and, by way of showing that they were in 
 earnest, they actually did seize two guns belonging to a gentleman 
 in our paity. Under these circumstances we had nothing to do 
 but to submit, and so we reluctantly bade the dragoman pay down 
 tlie sum of four hundred and twenty dollars, amounting, in Englisli 
 money, to Sbl. No sooner whs this done, than word was passed along 
 the rocks to let us go free ; our late guards blew out their matches, 
 released the caiucl-driver, and, giving us a parting shout of triumph 
 and derision, scampered back to their companions to claim a share 
 of the spoil which their hostile attitude had been mainly instru- 
 mental in extorting from us. We, you may be sure, lost no time 
 in availing oursiilves of their permission to depart, nor did we 
 breathe freely till we had once again placed Mount Ilor betw(xii 
 ourselves and the cut-throat thieves of Wady Mousa. 
 
 On reaching Jerusalem, a statement of this outrage was laid 
 befoi*e the Tiirlvish authorities; but tliough we met with plenty of 
 (jtiicial symj)atliY, it was as unproductive as the same commodity 
 appears to be in placea nearer home. Indeed, I should think any 
 governor would iind it too difiicult a matter to chastise these 
 Jiedouins, entrenched as tliey are in the impenetrable fastnusses el 
 3[ount Seir. 
 
 !n conclusion, I would advise all travellers contemplating u vi.sit 
 to IN'tra, to go under the protection of the recognised and powerful 
 Sh< ilvh Hussein, or not to go at all; but at the same time, i <*ttu 
 
nent 
 tchea 
 ollev 
 I had 
 , our 
 , and 
 , thcv 
 
 ;re in 
 leman 
 to di) 
 
 down 
 IngUsli 
 i nlou);- 
 atches, 
 riumph 
 sbarc 
 
 instni- 
 
 time 
 id w<' 
 
 CtWCCll 
 
 las laiil 
 icnty of 
 
 1 mod it y 
 
 lik any 
 tboso 
 
 'stiot* ol 
 
 u vi.sit 
 l(»weri'iil 
 L 1 can 
 
 AN ADVJiNTUUE IN RUPERTS LAND. 
 
 171) 
 
 assure them tliat the wonderful monuments of tliis ancient city 
 would well repay oven such sacrifices and ex|K3iiso as >vo were at in 
 our successful attempt to become acquainted with thorn. 
 
 AN ADVENTURE IN RUPERT'S LAM). 
 
 Deep in the uninliabitod wihls of Nortli Amorica, more than a 
 thousand miles beyond the Canadas, there stands a solitary outpost 
 of the Hudson's Bay Fur Company. It is a bleak, desolatt) lookin;r 
 l)art of Rupert's Land, so far removed from the liauuts of civil izcd 
 man that its inhabitants hear only twice a year from their frirn-ls 
 " at home." This outpost consists of four small l()<j;-houscs, or huts, 
 the doors and windows of which are of the smallest jxissibh^ size 
 and number. A rude stockiule surrounds the whole, and an nn- 
 })retending ila^stalf rises in thc^ midst. The trader in charge calls 
 it the " fort," and the custom of the countrv bears him out in \\\U 
 misnomer. Perhaps the stoekado and tlu* ilaijjstalV, aetinjj^ on vivid 
 imaginations, may have suirfijf'sted the titU^ No p^uns frown from 
 the mmparts of this wooden fortress of the? north ; no mailial music 
 echoes in the yard ; and the garrison eoasists of the commandant, 
 lour men, an Indian hunter of the Chi])pewyan tribe, and one Indian 
 woman. 
 
 All around the fort, from I^abrador to the Paeifie, from Canadji 
 to the Polo, is a widc^ wilderness, almost t^'nantless, and wrap})e<l in 
 tlie deep solitudii with which it was invested at creation. A few 
 scattered tribcis of Indijins thrro are, and wihl beasts in plenty, but 
 no symptoms of civilized m>in, save the wooden forts K\i the fur- 
 traders, which ani scattered over the country few and far between, 
 la this region, winter reigns suprmie for nearly eight nnmths in 
 the year. The keen winds of the noHh, fresh Jinil bitter from tho 
 
 I! 
 
 -. \ 
 
 w 
 
 I 
 
 M 
 
 ■r 
 
 1 
 
m 
 
 180 
 
 REMARIvABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 i* 
 
 1 
 4. 
 
 ice-fields of the arctic seas, hold their revels here in exulting fury. 
 Snow is the prominent feature in the scene. The land is wrapped 
 in it ; the housetops are weighed down by it ; the branches of the 
 surrounding pine-trees are laden with it, and heavy wreaths curl 
 over and cling to the adjacent cliffs. It blocks up the windows, 
 and fills the keyholes, and tips each individual post in the stockade 
 with white. Everything large is covered with it and rounded in 
 outline ; everything small is buried, overwhelmed, obliterated with 
 snow. 
 
 Tnily it is a desolate spot, yet not so cheerless as description 
 would lead one to suppose. Wherever man plants his foot, he finds 
 that a benevolent God has provided for the comfort and happiness 
 of his creatures. Even here it will be found that there are plea- 
 sures which cast a warm glow over the fur-trader's life and render 
 desolation less dreary. The following incident, extracted at random 
 from the outpost diary, shows that life at Stoney Creek is not witli- 
 out interest and amusement. 
 
 One bright and sparkling winter morning, George Wellwood, a 
 sturdy Englishman of twenty-three, in the service of the fur- 
 tradere, and commandant at Stoney Creek, proceeded to equip 
 himself for the chase — in those climates a necessary means of 
 procuring subsistence. A deerskin coat, trousers of tlio same 
 jnaterial, blue cloth leggings, mocassins, a fur cap^ formed some- 
 what like a helmet, an ample shawl round his neck, and he was 
 complete. Throwing his gun over his shoulder, he sallied forth 
 towards the little hut ia which his men lived. 
 
 "Hidlo! Mike Lynch, are ye there?" he cried, stooping as ho 
 looked in at the low doorway. 
 
 " Ay, ay, yer honour ; jist at your sarvice," answered a hearty 
 Irish voice from witliin, as its owner drained a large bowl of tea 
 and sprang to his feet. 
 
 " (iet your gun and snow-shoes, Mike ; we'll follow up the det 
 
AN ADVENTURE IN RUPERTS LAND. 
 
 ISl 
 
 track that was discovered yesterday. Tell the Squirrel to get ready 
 to go with us, and don't forget your sled. I'll walk on." 
 
 In a few minutes George Wellwood was joined by j\Iike and an 
 Indian, both of whom were tall of stature and stout of limb. The 
 three proceeded at a rapid pace along the woodcutter's track, which 
 was well beaten by the men in hauling firewood to the fort In 
 half-an-hour they reached the termination of the track, and the 
 little hut of the woodcutters. Here they halted to put on their 
 snow-shoes. 
 
 " They're mighty oonvanient things, to be sure, though rayther 
 troublesome at times," muttered Mike, as he endeavoured to force 
 his large feet into the lines of his snow-shoes. 
 
 " You'd travel but a short way without them, Mike," said Well- 
 wood : *' the snow is five feet deep, if it's an inch ; even your k)ng 
 legs would fail to find bottom." 
 
 The snow-shoes, of whose " convanience " the Irishman spoke, 
 were most unwieldy implements to look at. IMike was a big heavy 
 man, and was fond of coming out strong on all occasions — two 
 facts which induced him to w^ear a headdress with a pair of horns, 
 and to select the largest pair of snow-shoes at the establishment. 
 They were fully six feet long by a foot and a half broad, and 
 supported their burly wearer well on the surface of the snow, but 
 proved rather troublesome at times among the thick bushes. 
 
 " Now then. Squirrel," said Wellwood, " do you strike off to the 
 left and make a long circuit towards the blasted pine on the hill- 
 top : you know the place. Mike and I will bear away to the right, 
 and if we don't start the moose we'll meet you there." 
 
 Mike threw the line of his light shnlge across his shoulder and 
 followed his master into the forest. The country through whi(!h 
 thoy passed was pretty level, and comparatively free i'rom under- 
 wood, so tliat they proceeded ra))i(ll} and with ease over the snowy 
 waste. The air was perfectly culin, antl the frost intense, causing 
 
 i .ii 
 
 'I 
 
 t 
 
 "A 
 
 f 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 t ■ ! 
 
 
 3 
 
 * 
 
 i 
 
 lip! 
 
 M 
 
 '' 
 
 i* 
 
 W 
 
 
 1% 
 
 E 
 
 
 ^- 
 
 Bf 
 
 
 ,•(. 
 
 ! '1 
 
 
 
 ,| 
 
 I 
 
 '; 
 
 
 ll 
 
 .j 
 
 ^4 
 
■ !Ui 
 
 182 
 
 TIEMARKABLE ADVEXTURER. 
 
 I ■ . 
 
 \\ 
 
 ir 
 
 the breath, which issued like steam from the hunters' moutlis, to 
 congeal U[)on their hair and breast in the form of hoar-frost. 
 Threading their way among the trees and bushes, and managing 
 their cumbrous shoes in a way tlmt proved them to be accom- 
 plished backwoodsmen, Wellwood and his man traversed many a 
 mile of ground without seeing a single deer-track. Towards the 
 afternoon they entered a more thickly wooded country, and turning 
 to the left, round the base of a little knoll, they emerged upon 
 a small stream whose waters hud long ago been frozen to the 
 bottom. 
 
 " Ha ! Mike, we'll make use of the river here, and get a littlo 
 roli(^f from our snow-shoes." 
 
 " It's a road o' nature's own raakin'," remarked Mike, disencum- 
 bering his f(;ct, " an' a veiy purty one too ; jist like a marble 
 pavement." 
 
 In a few minutcb they were striding over the hard coating of 
 snow that lay upon the frozen stream. 
 
 While Wellwood and his companion were thus pursuing their 
 way, the Indian pushed forward in a devious circuit towards the 
 l)Uu'o of meeting at tlie blasted pine. For several hours he did not 
 halt, or slacken tlie pace at which he had set out. Threading his 
 way among the bushes with a rapidity and ease that showL'd ho 
 had been accustomed to troa<l tlie forest from infancy, turning 
 swiftly aside when any obstacle presented itself, and insinuating 
 the unwieklly snow-sho(»s through litthi openings in the underw(;od 
 liiat seemed to bid defiance to his further progress, or treading 
 down by main forc(> the snmller bushes in his i)ath, while his keen 
 eye turned restlessly on all sides, noting every object in tlie way, 
 the SipiiiTol travelled steadily until the sun was h)w, but discovered 
 no fresh tracks of deer. Then, turning sharp to the right, he made 
 for the place ol rendezvous. Suildonly his eye >vas arrested by 
 tracks in the snow : a glance s^ifliced to show that they were those 
 
AN ADVENTIIKE IN RUPEUT 8 J.ANI). 
 
 183 
 
 S!" 
 
 of an old moose and two young ones. Tbrowinjjj his gim into tlio 
 liollow of liis left arm, tlio Squirrel proceeded more cautiously, 
 i'ollowing the tracks wliicli led over the suniniit of a small 
 eminence. 
 
 Ascendinj^ this, he was about to pusn clown the opposite side, 
 when he stopped short, and his eye glistened as he gazed before 
 him, for down in the hollow beyond stood the objects of his desire 
 — a magnificent moose, as largo as a horse, with her two young 
 ones beside her. The distance, however, was too great for a shot, 
 and the Indian was endeavouring to approach neun^r, when a litth' 
 ])ufl' of white smoke burst from the bushes on his riglit. It was 
 followed by a loud report ; one of the young animals leapt its own 
 height from the ground, and the next instant its iife-blood dyed 
 the snow, while the other two sprang up the bank, over the brow of 
 the hill, and disappeared, followed by two well-inte/ided, but ill- 
 directed shots from (ireorge Wellwood and Mike Lynch, v.ho dashed 
 forward in pursuit. 
 
 So hot was Mike in the chase, that he totally forgot the sledge, 
 which was bounding and tumbling behind him, until the line got 
 twisted round his snow-shoes and brought him head foremost to the 
 ground. Now, Mike's position was not enviable. lie had come 
 down with such a plunge that his head and shoulders, and indeed 
 the greater part of his body, wen buried in the snow, from which 
 he struggled in vain for along time to extricate himself; while his 
 projecting feet and legs, the enormous snow-shoes, the tangled 
 lines, and the overturned sledge, wriggh^d helj)lessly on the surface. 
 1 )eep down did he plunge his hands, but no bottom could be found ; 
 tlie yielding snow offered no resistance to the thrusts of his arms as 
 he endeavoured to raise himscdf, and the shoes to which his feet 
 were attached prevented him from drawing his legs under him. At 
 length, by dint of beating the snow hard in his violent struggh'S, he 
 succeeded in gaining a sitting posture, in which he remained for 
 
 a I'll 
 
 
 I -"I 
 
3 If 
 
 1 
 
 f" 
 
 
 1 » 
 
 f ■ ■ 
 
 1 
 
 184 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 nl)ont five minutes, clearinj^ the snow out of his eyes, neck, wrists, 
 and Iinir, and growling all the while in an undertone at his 
 misfortune. 
 
 Having gathered himself up, he buried the young deer to protect 
 it from the wolves, picked up his gim, which was crammed to th(! 
 muzzle with snow, and started off in pursuit of his companions. 
 But they were far distant now, following hard upon the track of the 
 deei'. A stom-chaao is proverbially a long one, and Mike Lyncjh 
 found it so upon this 0(!casion. The sun sank, and the shades of 
 night soon covered the forest with the deepest gloom. A few shoot- 
 ing streaks of the aurora, however, played athwart the northern 
 sky, serving to render darkness visible, and to light the lonelv 
 traveller on his way. The track of his comrades guided him, but 
 hour after liour passed and still he failed to overtake them. At 
 length, just as he was beginning to vent his impatience in grum- 
 bling, a bright flame sprang up before him, and a shower of sparks 
 flew over the tree tops. In another minute the Irishman was 
 seated before the blazing camp-fire, filling his very short anil 
 intensely black little pipe — a necessary indulgence in these regions 
 — wifth tobacco, while his master quizzed him in regard to his 
 performances as a tumbler, and the Squirrel prepared supper. 
 
 The second young moose had been overtaken and killed, and 
 large steaks thereof were now roasting before the blaze. Mike'.^ 
 *;ledge was niq)aeked ; a tin kettle was stuffed full of snow and 
 placed on the lire, and t<'a was speedily produced. 
 
 It is a bright, cheery, beautiful, sparkling thing, a winter encamp- 
 m(^nt in the snow. The camp fire was a blazing pile of logs, five 
 i'eet long, tlu'ee feet broad, and two feet deep. It was largo enough 
 to roast an ox whole, yet it was not more than sufficient to warm 
 the atmosphere of the encampment. So intense was the frost tliat 
 Mike Lynch, standing one foot distant from the glowing heap of 
 logs, and smiling blandly at his short pipe as he strove to light it 
 
rials, 
 his 
 
 otect 
 
 lioiis. 
 )f the 
 
 ies of 
 sUoot- 
 rthern 
 lonely 
 n, but 
 1. At 
 
 sparks 
 n was 
 t and 
 egious 
 to hia 
 
 L • 
 
 Id, and 
 iMike's 
 
 ^w and 
 
 Lcauip- 
 Ls, fivi' 
 tnougli 
 warm 
 ist tliat 
 ^eap of 
 iglit it 
 
 AX ADVENTURE IN RUPERT S LAND. 
 
 185 
 
 withont at tlio same time lighting the point of his noso, felt liis 
 back freezing while the front of his trousers was being singed. A 
 spreading pine had been selected as a shelter for the night. From 
 the foot of this the snow had been cleared by the hunters, who 
 extemporized shovels out of their snow-shoes. The ground was 
 laid bare for a space of fifteen feet in diameter. The sides of this 
 hole formed walls six feet high, of the purest white. The fire was 
 kindled at one end, the blankets of the party were spread out at 
 the other, and the flat pine branches formed a thick impenetrable 
 
 ceiling. 
 
 How that fire did roar, to be sure ! The forked flames licked 
 and curled round the thick logs with a glib and hungry ferocity 
 that would have led one to suppose fire was a starved element in 
 these cold regions, and seldom had the luck to grasp so large a 
 meal. The smoke curled upwards in thick volumes, and vanished 
 in the dark night. Tlien a lurid sheet of flame cleft the rolling 
 mass asunder — another and another fork flew up, scattering the 
 smoke right and left until the blaze obtained the mastery and 
 turned the snow into sparkling silver, and everything else into deep 
 red gold, while the sparks flew up in myriads, caught upon ilm 
 branches overhead, and hung there like fireflies, or floated away 
 into thick darkness. Viewed from a distance, the encampment 
 looked like a bright and living jewel set in a gn'at field of ebony. 
 
 " Now then, Mike, pass the tea, and don't eat too much, else 
 we'll never be able to waken you. Two hours is all the sleep wo 
 can afford to take." 
 
 Mike groaned — being too deeply engaged with venison steaks to 
 be able to reply — and handed the tin can of tea to his master. 
 Wellwood drank the refreshing beverage from the lid. Mike and 
 the Squirrel imbibed, alternately, from the can. 
 
 "Squirrel, are ye ready to turn in, avic?" inquired ]Miko, with a 
 plethoric sigh. 
 
 
 I 
 
 h 
 
 y 
 
 ■t 
 
 h 
 
 If 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 il^ 
 
 
 -i: 
 
isn 
 
 IlE'iIAKKAIiLK ADVKNTUIJIIS. 
 
 
 Hi 
 
 The Indian, wlio indiilgcd in tlio tafiturnity of liis race, pvo 
 forth a sound which might liuvo nrieunt anythin<r, but for the 
 aecom})anyiup; nod, which {)rovcd it to be afiirmative. 
 
 ■Mike sighed aj^ain ; knocking the ashes out of his pipe, he co!i- 
 stnicted a pillow out of a pile of branches and lay down. Tim 
 Indian stretched himself beside the Irishman, and spread a grec!) 
 blanket over himself and his comrade, tucked it tight in all round, 
 imder their feet and over theii* heads, and so they went to sleep 
 like a long green bolster. George Welhvood followed their 
 example. The neglected fire soon burned down, burst up once or 
 twice in a fitful blaze, and finally went out, leaving the camp in 
 total darkness and in profound silen(3c. 
 
 The red man slumbered lightly. At the end of two hours Lc 
 arose, roused his companions, and blew a lust latent spark, tlia1 
 bad survived the night, into a flame. Young Wellwood grumbled 
 a little, as a matter of course, on rising, and was soon ready to 
 renew the chase. A mouthful of cold tea and a bite of cold venison 
 were speedily despatched, and, in ten minutes or so, the three 
 buntei's were gliding rapidly through the woods in silence, whih 
 the moon shed her soft light on their path and enabled them to 
 follow the track of the moose deer. But the day had dawned, and 
 they were beginning to think of breakfast, ere they overtook it. 
 Wellwood was walking in advance, and was about to pass over the 
 brow of a small liill, when his eye fell on the object of their hot 
 pursuit. In a second, tlie report of his fowling-piece awoke the 
 echoes ; the whistling bullet sped to its mark, and the startled 
 animal, bounding up the bank, disappeared over the top of a mouml, 
 
 " Hurra ! come on lads," shouted the excited sportsman, as lie 
 daslied forward in pursuit. 
 
 *' Ye've missed it," growled Mike. 
 
 " The deer is hit," said the Indian, gravely, as he strode aftei 
 his friends. 
 
 I 
 
tor th(; 
 
 he coii- 
 i. Til." 
 1 green 
 , roiiml, 
 to sleo}> 
 .1 their 
 onee or 
 namp m 
 
 )de aftov 
 
 AX ADVKSTURM IN HUPEHT'S LAND. 
 
 187 
 
 The Squirrel was right. On reaching the spot where tht» moo.50 
 had been Btanding, blood was found on tho snow, and in a quarter 
 of an hour the animal was again overtaken. It was <»vidently 
 nuich hurt, for it floundered heavily in tho deep snow. •>. 
 
 *' Now then, Mike, bo ready with a second shot," said Welhvood, 
 I aising his gun. Just as ho pressed tho trigger tho moose stumbled 
 and disappeared, while a cloud of white snow iiew up into tho air. 
 liowering his ])ieee, and uttering an exclamation of surprise, he 
 hurried forward. Suddenly he halted, and Mik(i observed that he 
 Avas gazing with a look of horror at something Ixjlbre him. Mik*' 
 was about to advance, but he stopped abruptly, and his blood 
 curdled in his veins on observing that his young master was stand- 
 ing on a snow-wreath that curled over the brink of a precipice 
 several hundred feet deep. He was beyond the cih^o of the clifl", 
 and the tenacity of the snow alone preserved him froui instant 
 destruction. 
 
 The uncertain morning light caused the snow-plain beneath to 
 appear on the same level with that above, so that the tleer had 
 been deceived, and its manjyled remains now lav scattered on th(^ 
 rocks far below. Welhvood had almost shared its fate. His 
 }X)sition was one of extreme peril. To retreat ba(?kwards was 
 impossible, owing to the form of his snow-shoes. To turn was 
 almost equally impossible, for the exertion nec<\'^sary to do so 
 woiUd in all probability break off tho wreath and hurl him into tho 
 ya\vning abyss. 
 
 " Och, master dear, jump back and kitch me hand," cried Mike, 
 in a hoarse whisper, advancing cautiously. 
 
 Wellwood drew a long breath, made a desperate backward 
 hound, and fell upon tho snow as he grasped the outstretched hand 
 of Mike. The effort broke off the mass of snow, which went 
 thundering down the precipice. So narrow was the escape, that 
 \\'ellwoai resi ed upon the extreme edge of the cliff, and one of his 
 
 u. 
 
 1 •• 
 
 S 
 
 :»• HI 
 
 i \ 
 
 ', ■ ' 
 
 
 
 « 
 
 t 
 
 '] 
 
 
 
 I if 
 
 1 I 
 
 si 
 
 i h 
 
 ■l^ 
 
 i t 
 
 
 il 
 
 
 
IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
 
 / 
 
 / 
 
 O 
 
 
 iM 
 
 u. 
 
 1.0 
 
 I • & 
 
 |50 ■^~ 
 
 12.5 
 |22 
 
 
 '■25 1'-^ -^ 
 
 
 -^ 6" 
 
 ► 
 
 V 
 
 <^ 
 
 
 Hiotographic 
 
 Sciences 
 
 Corporation 
 
 23 W^'ST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 
 
 (716) 872-4503 
 

 e 
 
 c 
 
! -, 
 1 ■'■ 
 
 I*/ 
 
 188 
 
 REMAllKABLE AD\EXTUKES. 
 
 snow-shoes dangled over it ; but a tremendous pull from the stotit 
 Irishman placed him the next moment in safety. 
 
 With a deep and earnest voice the young man thanked God for 
 his deliverance, as he pressed the hand of his faithful servant. 
 Then the three hunters turned to retrace their steps. The two 
 young deer were picked up by the way, and the shattered body of 
 the old one was left to the arctic foxes and wolves that prowl 
 iiround the lonely outpost of Stoney Creek. 
 
 
 BENIGHTED OX SALISBURY PLAIN. 
 
 It was towards the close of the summer season a good many years 
 iigo. I had started from my home in the weary world-working city, 
 on a combined ruralizing and sketching expedition, and taken up 
 my abode for some days at a farming village lying at no great 
 distance from the declivitous ridge which teiminates Salisbury Plain 
 at its soiithern limit. The neighbourhood of a barren moor, a wide 
 heathy waste, with patches of furze or wild thyme, or uncultivated 
 land of any description, had always more charms for me, as con- 
 taining more of the elements of the picturesque in landscape, than 
 those highly cultivated regions where " every rood of ground main- 
 tains its man," and the rich soil, trimmed like a garden and bright 
 with the golden grain, keeps the word of promise to the husband- 
 man. It is on the debatable land, between the wilderness and the 
 fruitful field, that the artist loves to wander, and tr gather from 
 either, as the mood of the moment may impel him, or from a 
 combination of both, those transcripts from the face of ever- 
 cliangiug nature the successful delineations of which make up the 
 events and epochs of his existence. 
 
 But my trip was ratlier a holiday than a professional excursion. 
 
BENIGHTED ON SALISBURY PLAIN. 
 
 m> 
 
 1 sought recreation rather than employment, and feeling the 
 necessity of repose after a period of intense labour pm-sued in s\ntv 
 of a prostrating nerv'ous affection, which at intervals laid me on the 
 shelf — I had resolved to unbend myself as much as possible, and 
 to work no more than just enough to give that flavour to repose 
 Avhich makes it a luxury. But such resolves are sometimes easier 
 made than adhered to ; and no man who has ever so little of the 
 love of nature in him, and the ability ever so humble of per- 
 petuating some of her variable phases, need calculate upon 
 remaining doggedly inactive while the cloud-shadows dapple the 
 outstretched weald> the blue smoke curls up througli masses of 
 dense foliage, the brooks run riotously cascading between their 
 precipitous banks, or the distant hills loom grey and transparent 
 through the haze of sunshine, or deepen to indigo darkness beneath 
 the gathering storm — and he looking on. So it came to pass that 
 I had worked enthusiastically instead of being superlatively indo- 
 lent, and had filled my portfolio with sketches, my note-book with 
 memorandums, and my head with ideas — reaping at the same time, 
 at least so I flattered myself, all the benefits I had anticipated 
 from the change of air and employment. 
 
 One afternoon, when the gorgeous rain-clouds had eclipsed tlie 
 cirri which for some days had held possession of the upper sky, 
 and, piled up from the horizon to the zenith, showed like the work 
 of Titan architects, in lavers of massive blocks molten and fervid 
 with dazzling flame-light, I sallied forth, after an early and sliglit 
 refection, armed with camp stool, walking stick, portfolio, and 
 water colours, to the high table land of the interminable plain. It 
 is only in such a situation, where the sky comes down upon the 
 earth without any intervening objects upon the edge of the horizon 
 to break the line of contact, that one can get tlie best view of 
 f'loudland in its integrity ; and a view on a broad level down, 
 inland, such as Copley Fic;ldiug has painted perhaps a thousand 
 
 ^ : 
 
 ,|.,J i\ 
 
 
 § : 
 
 I 
 
100 
 
 UKMAKKAHTiK ADVP-NTTinKS. 
 
 linirs, is vory (lilUVront from ono inidor n, luarinc Kky, >vliorc ilio 
 oliaraotor of IIk^ clonds is loss inarked aiul Htrikiiifr, <'Voii if a 
 ha/v wall of <^\lial!ilion doi^s not obacuro their a|)|iaront junclion 
 with tho wators. I'^roin tinio to tiiiK* 1 |»itchod my stool, aiul did 
 my best io wnsh in somo of tlio ohnracttM'islic, fiky-])it'tiiroH which 
 till(Ml mo with a«hiiiratioii. Such ossays wcro iKMHMSHarily very 
 hrii^f. from the constant ciiJvni;-o in tho mass(^s which w<'r(\ the 
 suhj(vt of stndy ; and aftiM' each trial J Malkod forward to vary the 
 sceuo on th(* liorizon line, and not without a hoi>(^ that a distant 
 view of Ston( h<m«xo, of the kx^ality of wliicn 1 was ignorant, might 
 .Mj)|>oa.r and he brought into a sketch. 
 
 As the day prew ohhyr and (he sun declined, the oharact«?r of the 
 (^louds alteix^d vvondn>usly. Tho white gh^aming mas8(\s deepened 
 into an ominous |nir[)le, and b(Mieath some of thorn, towards the 
 W(\st, long streaming bars of iiery crimson, alternated with stripn of 
 vivid omtM'ald gnxMi, nuule a new and more attractive spoctaclc. 
 which bixmght mo again to a stand-still. J may have sat an liouroi- 
 mon^ in the att^>mpt to ii\ upon paper, not so much the actual 
 a])|>oarjmce, but the ideus winch this magnilicent contrast of colour 
 originated in n\y mind. I was not awar(\ until 1 had done nearlv 
 all that it was in my power to do towards that object, that tho niglil 
 was rapidly approaching ; nor, if 1 had been, should I have felt th(^ 
 least nueasiness on that score, it not having entered my head for a 
 moment that there could be any difliciilty in finding my w.iy home 
 again, ^^'hen I rose, however, and looked around, tho drear}, 
 dark aspect of that side of Uie heavens to which my back had been 
 turutHi so long thrilled mo with a sensation the reverse of pleasant ; 
 and. making what haste I could in packing up my materials, I 
 resolved io com^X'nsate by smart walking for the delay, and to lose 
 no time in retracing my steps. But, already, I was not exactly 
 certain of the diivctiou in which I had come, having neglected, in 
 Scuttling my jxnnt of view, to note any particular object^ such as a 
 
hknkjhi'k I) (IN HAiisniiJY riAiN. 
 
 101 
 
 mono or liillook, llml iTn*;:!;li1 hnvv MrM'ved inHlnad ol" a <lin>rlinf,^ pont. 
 Slill I liiirw ilint, by jm)co<Mlin^ Hontli, I niiiHt come, in u couph* of 
 'noui'H or Ri>, to Hom(» ]i(irt of tlio ri(l;j;o vvhcnro \ rnnhi oMsily (iKccr- 
 liiin my oxacl [)osi1ion ; and no IVmum, only a nli^lil in(>riili('afion, as 
 iho vision of tlio toa lablo at ilio fHiinbonso rosolo my imn;,':'>rt1ion, 
 cmssod my inin(i. I wns obliged to stand still for a b'W minntPH, 
 Itocanso I had Ihmmi Kittiji«j^ cross- b«p:LC<'d, and iho b'^ vvbicb luid 
 ncrvrd for an ojiscl bad " ilio piiis and ncrdlrs," and would not. 
 Mlb)\v mo to movo. Wliilo I tbns stood waitinj^ pnrmission to start, 
 ;i fow (b'opa of rain ramo tlmmpinj^ liko bnllcts npon my portfobo, 
 ;ind thoy jn'ovod to bo tb(5 boralds of a storm wliicli was not lon^ 
 in approarhinfi:, and wbicb poiniMl its unrelenting fury upon my 
 nnshelterod bead. 
 
 It gnnv dark apace: there was still, liowever, a lonp^ Mood-n^d 
 lino visible in the west; and, notinpj the spot M'here I supposed the 
 snn bad ti^one down, and <'ttlcidatinf( tliat, it being now the middle 
 of Au<2;uKt, be bad sv.i two or tbree points north of due west, 1 turned 
 my face resohitely towards the south, and having buttoned up to 
 tlio ehii), and recovered the use of my bmb, pusbed forward as fast 
 as I was able. 
 
 Salisbury Plaiu, as many of my rs3ader8 are quite aware, is any- 
 tliing but a jdain, in tbo pbiin sense of tbat word. What it may 
 appear as a whole, when viewed from a balloon, 1 don't pretend to 
 say ; but tliat part wliicb was the scene of my erratic exploit was a 
 succession of wavy ridges, bills, and liollows, witb now a terrace of 
 (able land, and now a valley of corresponding extent. This 
 variation in the surface rendered it extremely dillicult for me to 
 pci-severe correctly in the truck 1 bad to tak(\ Upon arriving at 
 the summit of one of the ridges, after truverning its subjacoi^ 
 hollow, I bad always to correct some small deviation tbat 1 bad 
 made from the straight route. As long as any colouring remained 
 ia tbe sky wberc tbe sun bad gone doNMi, tbis correction was easy 
 
 *■ f* H 
 
 ' SI i- 
 
 i 
 
 ■ fr 
 
 U I 
 
 u 
 
 ? 
 
 y 
 
 1:1 
 
 r m 
 
mi 
 
 UERIAUKABLE ADVKNTUUES. 
 
 enough ; but by-und-by, when the rain rushed down like a universal 
 waterspout, tlio gloom gi-cw deeper; the red light vanislKnl; and 
 on all sides alike a wall of descending water through which the 
 sight could not penetrate for ii huridrcd yards, seemed to sliutme iu. 
 and impressed me with the notion that I might have been the sole 
 living being left in a world devoted to a second deluge, every other 
 tlionght being absorbed in the fearful tempest that wtis rattling 
 about my ears. 
 
 I knew now, well enongh, that I did not know in what direction 
 I was going, and I was fast becoming nervously and painfully 
 excited. Still I pushed on all the faster, unwilling to believe that 
 I had lost my way and was wandering at the direction of chance, 
 llesolving not to think of disaster, lest such thoughts should give 
 rise to apprehension, I called to mind all the pleasantest things 
 that had happened to me in my whole life ; and, like the rustic in 
 the churchyard, who is described as " whistling aloud to keep Iiis 
 courage up," banished for a time the sense of present calamity by 
 that of past joys. But now I began to feel overpowered with 
 fatigue, and, in spite of the heavy rain, parched with thirst. 1 
 was wet through to the skin, but yet my mouth and tongue were 
 dry as sand paper ; and when I rubbed the latter against my palate, 
 I heard a grating sound like the croaking of a frog. I sat. myself 
 down upon a large stone of some tons weight, and drank up tlic 
 rain-water which had collected in the hollows of its surface, and 
 which, in the fast-fiilling storm, were refilled as fast as I drained 
 them. The draught refreshed me; and though it quenched my 
 thirst, it did not and would not moisten my mouth for more than u 
 moment. 
 
 Suddenly, as I sat staring dreamily into the haze of watery shafts 
 that shot furiously into the ground, I heard the heavy squashy 
 thump of a feorse's feet approaching ; and a moment after the magni- 
 fied apparition of a powerful wliite horse, urged to full and desperate 
 
IJENIGIITED ON «ALISBUUY PLAIN. 
 
 193 
 
 Lversal 
 I; and 
 ell tlio 
 mc iu. 
 le solo 
 y other 
 rattling 
 
 ircctiou 
 ainfully 
 jve that 
 chance, 
 ikl give 
 t things 
 rustic in 
 keep liis 
 imity by 
 •ed with 
 hirst. 1 
 ue were 
 palate, 
 It myself 
 up the 
 ice, and 
 drained 
 
 |hed my 
 than a 
 
 shafts 
 
 isquashy 
 
 magni- 
 
 jsperate 
 
 gallop by a brawny yeoman, who at every leap dug the rowels into 
 liis side, burst into view. Instinctively I ran to intercept the 
 horseman, and, shouting with all my force, endeavoured to bar his 
 way. The rider, however, never drew rei» , and had not the horse 
 swerved from his direct path, I should have been borne down and, 
 perhaps, slain upon the spot. As it was, the fellow struck at me 
 savagely with the butt end of his heavy whip. I felt the whiflf and 
 wind of the blow, which would have dashed out my brains had it 
 tiiken effect ; but ere I could look round to remonstrate, both horse 
 and rider had vanished behind the deluging curtain. I saw at 
 once how it was. The horseman was a farmer who had deserted 
 the turnpike road for the sake of a short cut through the storm : 
 he had taken me for a robber, and would probably regale his 
 neighlours with the narrative of his valour and lucky escape. 
 
 I retu "ned to my stone, and sat resting there for a quarter of an 
 hour, stemming the while with perspiration, tind beginning to des- 
 })ond with anxiety. Ere I rose, a few vivid flashes or rather sheets 
 of lightning, followed by distant peals of thunder, lighted up the 
 scene. I took the momentary opportunity they atforded to look 
 around. I saw in the distance some mounds which I had not 
 remarked before, and I knew by this that I had wandered far from 
 the homeward route. The consciousness of that fact staggered me, 
 and I knew not what to do. Warned by a cold shivering of my 
 whole flesh, I rose to go — but where ? That was the question. I 
 walked forward listlessly, to keep in motion at any rate, if I could 
 do nothing else. I left my portfolio, the covers of which were 
 reduced almost to a pulp, on the stone which had been my resting 
 place, together with my water-colours, the rattling of which as 
 they swung in their tin case in my pocket annoyed me. The rain 
 now abated considerably, and the sky grew lighter ; but now a new 
 phenomenon alarmed me. As I peered upon the sodden ground, in 
 tlie forlorn hope of discovering some beaten track, however faint, 
 
 H 
 
 \ 
 
 'it 
 
 
 
 1 I 
 
 
 :* i 
 
194 
 
 llKMAJJKAlU.r'l APYKNTUHKH. 
 
 ■I 
 
 luy noar vi(»w slxMild l)!»v(> ln'on ^icrn. ummoI'ii bii^lii, blomh'dldur; 
 \\\\o\\ 1 ]<»o]v(m) n \o\\ n)io(»H I'orvMird il >viim nol bo; \m\, niidcr my 
 1\m>1, an«l ior m yuixl or mo unnind mo, ii \\i\h of n, ^''Jy vod. | 
 WjvlUod u\ Uw oonlri^ ol" a Moody diso, nud ronldn'l. \ioi onl. ul' i(. 
 "I nui nol Hni>(M's1ilions,"* I Riud 1o inysolf, " y^- wluil. oiin tliJM 
 liUMin:" and foi soiuo minnloH I would look \\l 1lu> (>:roiind uo 
 inoiv. Vol 1 oo\d<l no( rt^rnun lonj^ Tnau loctUiUfj;' — i\u{\ now. 
 Ih^1\o1u I tlio dim (MtoIo in iho niidsj ol' whioli I walUod mum (»!" h 
 pnl(> violt^t (S>lonr : tin* Moody ooloin' was p>np. J. liUod timl 
 liottov. or. \o spoidv nioro oorrtMMly, I dinlikod it \om ilvan i\\o ^iwy 
 hurt. Ai'tiM* nnoll\(M- inlerval I looK(nl down a^ain, and tho disc 
 vras of a Ivilliant wdVron : and llion >vhilo .1 jL^azod, oan\o ono t»f 
 ovimson. nhioU aj^nin do(^non<^d into iho Iwio o( blood. TluMi 1 
 llionuht. "Am I aU nt <o loso luy sonHosV" and that torrihlt^ 
 a]>prohonsion nlmost oviMvami^ mo, 
 
 \\\v,\i oould ] \]o? IVocood in >vha1 din^Mion I would, 1 was as 
 lik(^ly to go wn>n!;- as right.. Tho rain h.ul woll uigU coastHl: 
 )>orha]>s it would soon oisaso ontiroly. Why shouKl 1 bo alMrinod? 
 Aft(^r all it was bnt ])layina- th<^ pjiH of a piokct iu a wot night, 
 without rations. 1 would stay wh(MV I was, uioviup: about n little 
 to koop o\\ \ho cM, au<l wait i\u' tho dawn of morning, or tlio 
 glinuuiTing o( s<nuo star whioh. by nnoaliug its |H\sitiou, should 
 put uiO iu possession o\' miii(\ 1 ]Mt<'hod uiy *'amp-stool and sat 
 liowu ; thou I roso agnin, aud marked (>iV a walk of a doz(Mi i^aros. 
 and uiarohod up au(i do\>u it h^suridv for above an hour. This 
 oabuod my uorv<uis oxi^itomcnit. and ]uit to iiiglit tho ohaugiui: 
 ouvhs o( colour iu wliioh I had lately waUuni. Tho wind aroso. 
 and bh-'w slri^ugly so<m\ after uiiduight, and 1 In^gau anxiously t«' 
 wateh its etV<et;s up«ui tl.e (^Uuuls above. It was a huig whil' 
 l>eforc a star a]^peared. and when one gliuuuiTed forth at Uiugth. ii 
 was a stranger to me: another and another, and still I was none 
 
M! 
 
 \\W\\ i'> 
 
 lor wy 
 pmI. I 
 1, ol' it. 
 
 luutl no 
 \(\ wow. 
 
 vj\H ^r n 
 
 lUo gory 
 Uio «lisc 
 o om^ of 
 'V\\v\\ \ 
 
 , 1 was j\s 
 
 Ill, rt Uit^^> 
 iig. or iUo 
 
 l\xiouf^H- to 
 
 HHNinrTTMH im SMIMIUtUY PIAIS. 
 
 ion 
 
 
 llJHtMl IIH iK'loMjriti^r to II hliowii cnllHt i>l llli joll : <||('|I I KlMW \vll«'fr' <||f« 
 
 oorfli slur hIkhiM bo, mifl, fonM«'r|in«tiHy, in wlmi (liroffiou \ Ini'l fo 
 <!•<». I Hoi Inrwnnl nt. oiioo, immI IiimI flio HniiHrndiori ii« I |in»('«'»>(|f(| 
 1o Hco 1lu» oIoikIw wmrry off, niul tlio NliirR hIiiiio fnrlli in »ill flicir 
 hnnufy. 1 ro|inF«flfMl 1)io ninun n|tnii wliicli I lind r«'sf(>(l, nn«l bfiiiL": 
 now in hoHor HpitilH, luul f'oolinjj^ llmf llm worHi wnw jinHf, Kwovoml 
 my proppi'iy. 
 
 I wtilKotl cm wifl) MM nuTfry llinl, RnrpriHcd iuf\ fo?- I\v(» full 
 ImniM. williont. rfM'of.rniMJnt!; nny nl»jr<'t, yij. ixTfof-Hy fonlidoni lliuf. 
 \ WHM on llio nfi:Iif. Irnck. 1 luul not tny wnlcli with irio, hut I 
 i?nM;^ino(l timf it. oonM not 1m» Inr from diiwn, wIhmi I found TnyHolf 
 in tl»o ('ompntiy of n low Htrn^^linji; nlioop. "(/nri tboHo Hlicop 
 1)0 luM'o williotif n pliopliord ?" I nslcod inyHolC; nriil lit tli«) tli(Mi;.^lit 
 1 innnodintolv phontrd -with nil niv niiLcht. 
 
 'ri\(» orv WHR lumworod l»v tli(» Iwirlciiif' of a dojj', wliioli T wmm trlnd 
 ouon|!;h to lionr. As T ('ontinuod slioutinp:, nnd Iho dof^ rodoiiMod 
 liis noiHo, tbo npiTtnr we rnmlo Roon nrousod tlio nliopliord fnmi ]m 
 slot^p. At. tirst it npponrod mh thonfjjh tlu* lumi lin<l ariHoii ont of 
 tlu» p:ronTi<l, n» tlioro wnw nothin;:!; lik«? a luunan liabitation in si[j;bt. 
 Wo vwmo forward onv(»lo])od in a ooarHo frioz(^ font, a,nd ofirryin;^' a 
 smidl lautorn in lii« bnnd. T\m bo bold np to my faoo, wbib; with 
 tlio otbor band bo j»:ras[iod wbat HJiould bavo boon a pjistoral oroolc, 
 I'ut wns Jin nnd(Miial)lo oakon oud;j;ol of Hknll-Hplittinp^ onpaoity. 
 llo oxaminod mo from Ik^miI to foot witb tbo iitnioHt dolibonitiori 
 Mtul vonchalance^ wbilo \\\a wbitc* luiir flnttorod in tlu? wind. 
 Ap|)arontly satisiiod witb bin Hcrntiny, bo loworod tlio kuitorn, and 
 said :— 
 
 *' Von'vo a bin to zoo tb' stwons, an' ba' loozcd yor wa' — 
 b(\^nt ot ?" 
 
 " I bavo lost my way," I said, " and am tired, and wet, and 
 hungry to boot." 
 
 \\ 
 
 
 lit 
 
 w 
 
 
 i 
 
 • i 
 
 ■1 
 
 ,1 
 
 1 
 
30(5 
 
 llEMAIlKAnLK ADVKNTt'UKN. 
 
 "(\ni'st ya znni Imrd an' l»yoak'n cf H'lik*'," ho wiid, '* an' a zwiV 
 
 .)'z 
 
 * 1 " 
 
 1 oxprosaod my p^rafitmlo, and lio bado mo " oooni awa' '* and UhI 
 tho way towards Ida slu^ilinji;^. 
 
 This was a sort of hoh» in tho Hontliorn Rido of a rather Rt«M'|i 
 ridgo overlooking ono of the h)w hollows 1 havo already montioninl. 
 Vi<nv(^d fmm tho oxtorior it lookod lik(^ a h(Mi]) of dried Bods 
 hardly larj^iM* than an avorapfo hayooek, and mi^ht havo hoen 
 j>ass(Hl. oven in th(^ daytime, without being reeognised as a huinaii 
 r(\sid(Miee ; but whcni yon were onee within it, it was u Riiug little 
 b(Mth enoufT^h, warm, wind-tipht, and woath(T-proof, with a ^im\ 
 drv b(^d on tlu^ stime-walled Rid(\ an old broa<l-bottom(Hl ehair, and 
 a tire smouldering in a eorner beneath a ehimn(»y that burrowed 
 through the qarth. Only ono wall was of stone, and that unce- 
 n\ented ; the others were formed of rough planks. Around them 
 hung a few bottles and pots of what I supposed were sheep medi- 
 cines, a dnnlging horn, an old horse pistol and ]>owder flask, and ii 
 liuge jacl Te. On the table lay a big brown loaf, and from 
 some, to lUC, undiseoverablo reeess, the slK^phenl produced n huii|) 
 of fat baeon. He also reached down a drinking horn, and pourim: 
 cider from a small harvc^st keg, gave it me to drink. Sour as it 
 was, it ran like neetar down my parehed thnmt. Putting the huoc 
 knife into my hand, he pointed to the viands, and bade me help 
 nn'S(^]f. The bacon, however, was uncooked, and I could not 
 torioli it. 'V\\o old man laughed at my fastidiousness, and said ln^ 
 always at«^ it raw himself. AVhile I made a supper of the brown 
 bread and <'i(ler, he blew up the sniouldering embers of the fin. 
 and V(^lunte(M'ed to dry my garments if I would occupy his bed th»^ 
 whil(\ 1 did not snfter him to rep(\at the proposition, but tumbled 
 into tlie warm nest in double quick time, and in a few minutes was 
 sound asleep. 
 
 Whcni I awoke the sun had been throe or four hours up, aivi 
 
IIRNKJIITKI) ON MAMHIMIUY I'LAIN. 
 
 Wl 
 
 wiiH hIimh'ii^ brilliantly. I \vnH uloiw* ; l»ut tlio Hlirplnnl li.'ul fliicd 
 my rlollu's rainouHly, and 1 (mi\iM now n'siitn«» llicm with ('(»mfnrt. 
 In a tVw niiinitcn I jfUiuMJ him in tho hctlKjw, whcrr, with tin? whl of 
 JMH (loM^, who Itron^ht the piitirntH to him im \w wanted tlirni, hv 
 waH Imirv in applying nirMlifamcJitH to Honn^ of Ihh Hock who Ht(»o(l 
 in ikmhI of 8nnh Rorviro. lie voluntcorcd to guid<' me ho fur on my 
 homeward ronto nn to rrndor further miRtakes impoHKihle, and did 
 so, leaving his dog m charge of the Hock. I got honn; in time for 
 farmer Ihirton'a dinn(>r, and greatly relieved the mind of my host 
 and hostess by my appearance. 
 
 When, in the following year, I went to a shecpf hearing in tho 
 Nime villag(», I met my friend the shepherd at the celebration of 
 that annual ff\stivity. Though past fourscore, tho man was quite a 
 child in worldly experii^nco, and retained the childish faculty of 
 being amused with the vcuiest trifles. I found that my story had 
 gone the round of the neighbourhood, not without such additions of 
 the marvellous as pooph) who have but littlo food for thought aro 
 pi-ono to append to their narratives. I am afraid my second 
 appearance dissipated some of these wonders : it certainly extin- 
 guished a very dramatic account of a struggle with a highwayman, 
 which was got up by the apparition on the white horse ; but, 
 nevertheless, it conferred a real pleasure upon the solitary of the 
 plain, who assured me that he had taken care to provide himself 
 with the means of boiling me a rasher whenever 1 should honour 
 him with a secoud visit. 
 
 m 
 
 
 ■I, if 
 
 I 
 
 1 
 
I 
 
 ' 
 
 198 
 
 RKMAHKAIlLi: ADVi:XTLRES. 
 
 
 A LEA]^^ YROM A CLREGYMAN'S JOURNAL. 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 r- 
 
 rv 
 
 The Christian minister is frequently dejected wlien lie reflects 
 ui)oii tlie lew visible si;2;ns of success which sometimes attend his 
 ministry of the word. He may labour with unremitting diligence, 
 be instant in season and out of season ; yet, to the end that liis 
 faith and patience may be tried, ho nmy not be permitted to have 
 any outward proof that God is making him instrumental in tuniiug- 
 souls fiom darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto 
 God. l>ut if on tin's account we relax in our efforts to do good, and 
 fail to improve every season of doing good which presents itself, we 
 may let slip the very opportunity by which the Almighty intended 
 to make known to us that we "were not labouring in vain nor 
 spending our strength for nought. For ofttimes after a season of 
 long apparent dearth and darkness, and just perhaps as we had 
 begun to give up hope, the wilderness suddeidy appears to blossom 
 as the rose, and the desert becomes fruitful as the garden of the 
 Lord. By some remarkable instance, it may be, it is made plain 
 to the patient labourer in his Master's vineyai'd, that God is with 
 him establishing the work of his hands. And this revelation of 
 the jMaster's presence with him is, to the Christian labourer, what 
 a friendly light in the distance is to a traveller, journeying amidst 
 the darkness of the night through a wild and lonesome country : 
 he sees the light and takes courage, and feelings of doubt and 
 despair disperse, even as the gloomy night clouds vanish under the 
 beams of the rising sun. 
 
 Thus was I encouraged in the young days of my ministerial life. 
 In weak health and in depressed spirits, I had been labouring, ai> 
 parently without any success, for a lengthened period. No words 
 of mine seemed strong enouo^h to turn back the swollen tide oi' 
 
A LEAF FKOM A CLEIUJYMAN S JOL'KNAL. 
 
 109 
 
 wiclvcclnt'ss w}ik'li, like a torn'nt, rolleil down tlio streets of our 
 town, nnd I was beginning to despair of ever doing a work for God 
 in snc'h a plaeo; when I was requested to oociipy a pnlj)it in a 
 neighbouring city for a single stibbf.tli evening. Somewhat un- 
 Avillingly, I consented to do so, for I was just tiien meditating a 
 retreat from the ministiy altogether, tliiidving it not impo.>;siblo 
 that 1 had mistaken my vocation in life. 
 
 When the sabbath evening came round that was to find mo 
 
 preacliing at D , I well remember debating witli myself long 
 
 and anxiously whether I should go or not. It was a dull November 
 evening ; I had more than four miles to valk, and a cold drizzling 
 rain was falling. More than once I determined to send some one 
 else to fill my place ; but while thus in doubt as to wliat I should 
 do, the words sounded in my years, clearly and solemnly, as if a 
 spirit had spoken them: "In the morning sow thy seed, and in 
 the evening withhold not thine hand ; for thou knowest not whether 
 shall prosper, either this or that, or whether they both shall be alike 
 good." I hesitated no longer ; but breathing a prayer for help and 
 utterance, I set forth for 1) . 
 
 When I arrived at the scene of my evening's labour, I found but 
 a very small congregation assembled : the place of worship was 
 filled with a cold raw fog, through which a few tallow candles 
 faintly glimmered. The atmosphere was damp and unhealthy as 
 that of a vault, and seemed to stiike every one who entered with a 
 perceptible chill. Throwing myself, however, upon the promised 
 aid of the Holy Spirit, I began to speak to the people the word of 
 life. Taking for my text the glorious words,- " There is no con- 
 demnation to them which are in Christ Jesus," I endeavoured to 
 illustrate and to enforce the following truths — that man as a sinner 
 was under condemnation ; that this condemnation was of a most 
 fearful character, and involved in it the most terrible results ; that 
 man by himself was wholly unable to escape from this condemna- 
 
 H 
 
 >. I 
 
 ' 
 
 
 '■fl 
 
 ;■: !fl 
 
 ..il 
 
m 
 
 KEMAUKAULE ADVENTURES. 
 
 : 
 
 : i^ 
 
 . 
 
 lion and^ita ronsoqiicnces ; but that God, in the gospel of Ivis Son, 
 had met humanity in its low estate, had provided a means of eseape 
 from the terrors of a broken law, and from tlio aecusings of a 
 guilty conscience ; that ho had established in the world a grand 
 foundation for tlie sinner's hope, and was well pleased with him 
 who, casting himself ujx)n this foundation, was desirous of being 
 saved according to the Divine method. 
 
 While I was proceeding with my address, my attention was 
 forcibly arrested by the appearance of a poor lad, who was stand- 
 ing or rather crouching in the aisle near the door. He was shiver- 
 ing with cold, and occasionally, as the wind liowled past the windows 
 in fitful gusts, he would draw his tattered garments closer round 
 him to protect his emaciated, sickly looking frame. He seemed 
 afraid to meet the eye of any one, for once when he found my gaze 
 fixed upon him, ho immediately cowered, dropped his head upon 
 his bosom, and did not look up again for some moments. How it 
 was that I began to lose all thought of the congregation, and to 
 speak as if that poor boy were my only auditor, I know not, but so 
 it was : like a magnet he drew my thoughts and feelings towards 
 himself, and I found myself speaking more emphatically to him 
 than to any one else. I forgot the cold, dull place of worship in 
 which I was preaching ; aad even while I was speaking, my heart 
 earnestly prayed to God to bless the words to the salvation of that 
 wretched outcast. New thoughts and illustrations came into my 
 mind, and God seemed speaking through me, more especially to 
 him who had so forcibly awakened my sympathies. He looked so 
 poor, so miserable, and withal so desirous of having a word of kind- 
 ness spoken to him, that at the close of the service I determined 
 to send for him ; but on looking to the place he had occupied 
 during worship, I found it vacant : the boy had gone. No one, it 
 appeared, had observed him but myself; and all the way home my 
 fancy followed the unknown, apparently friendless lad, wandering 
 
is Son, 
 esca})0 
 58 of a 
 
 th liini 
 
 on wart 
 s staud- 
 1 shiver- 
 wiudowH 
 
 ^r round 
 , seemed 
 my gaze 
 ead upon 
 How it 
 n, and to 
 ot, but so 
 towards 
 to bim 
 irsbip in 
 my lieart 
 [11 of tbat 
 into my 
 [ecially to 
 tooked 80 
 of kind- 
 iterniined 
 occupied 
 o one, it 
 [home my 
 anderiug 
 
 A LEAP FROM A CLERGYMAN S JOURNAL. 
 
 201 
 
 in his \attorcd p^armcnts, through tlio wind and rain of a Novt^mber 
 night, without a homo to winch to <lircot his wearied stejxs. 
 
 I cannot exphiin the cause, but I inwardly felt that night, that I 
 had been made instrumental in doing good. I was as e(^rtain of it 
 as if the fact had been announced to me by a messenger from tho 
 skies ; and I returned to my own field of labour rebuked for my 
 want of faith, and resolv(Ml to work more zealously, and to exercise 
 more implicit trust in God. So vivid was tho impression which tho 
 
 service at D made upon my mind, that I even used to dream 
 
 about it ; and always, as the central figjire in tho dream, was tho 
 poor boy who had so deeply interested and affected me. Again I 
 could see him, standing cold and solitary in tho aisle, the very 
 imago of want and sorrow ; and I woidd sometimes awake with 
 words of sympathy intended for him upon my lips. On several 
 occasions, I made inquiries with regard to him of persons who 
 were likely to meet such as he, but always without success ; and 
 yet the thought would often occur to me that he and I were des- 
 tined to meet. We did meet, and under circumstances never^ 
 never to be forgotten by myself. 
 
 It was the middle of winter, and the snow was lying deep on 
 the earth ; when one evening as I was reading in my study, I was 
 told that a very poor woman wished to speak to me. " She woidd 
 not come in," the servant said, but would be very thankful if I 
 could allow her to ask me a question at the door. Upon going to 
 the door, a most pitiable object met my view. Prostrate upon the 
 steps, her forehead touching the cold stones, lay the poor woman ; 
 she was v^ry thinly clad, and seemed almost frozen by the severity 
 of the winter air. At the sound of my voice, she started and made 
 a languid attempt to rise, but her strength failed her ; and shivering 
 with cold she sank down again into a kneeling posture, looking at 
 me with a mute prayer for compassion and succour. With the 
 Assistance of my servant^ I carried her in almost a fainting state 
 
 h2 
 
 ' 
 
 1 
 
 
 1 
 
 ■ 
 
 
 \ 
 
 , .. 4 ,. 
 
 s 
 
 
 c 
 
 I li 
 
 i-^i 
 
 f? • 
 
202 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 3 
 
 f-. 
 
 into the kitchen, and for a time she remained without power to 
 utter a single word ; but gradually she recovered through the re- 
 storatives we employed, and accepted very gratefully some food 
 that was set before her. Slie had not, however, eaten above a 
 mouthful or two, before she suddenly recollected the object of her 
 errand : she burst into tears, and exclaimed, in a voice broken by 
 emotion, " I didn't come here to beg, sir, indeed I didn't." There 
 was that in her very wretchedness, and in the large tears which 
 coursed do^vn her cheeks, which forbade even the thought of her 
 being an impostor ; and in as kind words as I could use I expressed 
 my willingness to serve her. She paused for a moment, struggled 
 with herself to obtain the mastery over the feelings which were 
 agitating her, and then, in more quiet tones, gave me the following 
 account of herself. 
 
 She was a widow, having lost her husband above five years ago : 
 she had seen better days, for, while her husband was alive, she, 
 together with her son, her only child, was enabled to subsist very 
 comfortai)ly ; but upon his death, ruin and want stared them in 
 the face, and they were reduced almost to beggary. By dint, how- 
 ever, of great exertions, she had contrived to keep herself and her 
 child out of the workhouse, and she was beginning to regard the 
 futm-e even hopefully ; when her son, just when he was approaching 
 the age when by his efforts he might have assisted his widowed 
 parent most materially, ran off to sea. Thus was she deprived of 
 both husband and child, and left with only penuiy and grief as hor 
 bitter portion. She followed the prodigal with her tears and 
 prayers ; but r^ore than two years elapsed without any tidings of 
 him reaching her. At length, one Sunday evening, while she in 
 sad loneliness of heart was brooding over his fate and trying to re- 
 concile herself to the thought of his death, her boy, whom she 
 still loved with all the depth of maternal affection, notwithstanding 
 all his waywardness and disobedience, had suddenly presented him- 
 
A U..VP K.OM , c««OVM.Vs .OOK^XAU 
 
 ^«'f before her and ^a " " ""'"""' ^'^ 
 
 of I"s past misconduct in the dS T -^ "'""'^l'* ■><> «oro 
 
 Ife had been shipHicekd *^ experjenced in his ref,,,, 
 
 ca-ne home to n.o in rat iTl T^"' ''^ "'-"^t •' n..w7: 
 than any mother can wish W,™ *'''''■' '''' '"'« been more 
 
 ^ t r;^: r r -■^^- -' * ''^^ '^^' "°^ ''-' '^ 
 
 *-- = I triS to comt; rSot. '"■f^ "" '"'^ " «*-- of 
 was^hat her son had returned "o he! " '"" ''"^ '»°'' "-"^f"! I 
 
 bosom/^fJowSSllry^^ 
 dy>nff. He has been dangeroi ill f ^' ""^ ''""''"« «'^I""-4 is 
 J am afraid there is no hope of hi 'c"" '"°'' *"" '^ -"""tb. and 
 almost everytting .e poss^sseJto IS^' ' ^" ^^^^^^ -"b 
 
 I took out my purse, with the infn, ? ""* "^''^ssaries." 
 ^-oney, but she i^astily said ''uITm "" "^^'^'"^ ^'^ ^ WAe of 
 ^■" and then, after a short pll f-T^ ^ ""• «^«Wng of you 
 ^be continued : " D^rf^fi^ Chjf''/^^ *-- «o-^ free^' 
 bad It not been for a sermon h°7 .1 ^"^^^^^^Y told me tha^ 
 ";tive land, he might stm w! ^""^ "'? '"= "'»-« bome o hi 
 It seems, on his wa^ home th«f t TT'^ disobedient and wiW 
 att^cted by it that he^niS h/l T' ''"''''- ^^ -- - 
 place of worship. There l^e heard ^ ^ " * ^''' ""'» " ^'^ « 
 nm to change his course an^^ ,. ^'™°° ^'"''^b determined 
 borne that ve^ evenW to asl b f ° ^'' "''^^ '''"« ''^ '•omS 
 
 "aliped nules and miles. My poor ^"7 . '''""°" *"* I bave 
 ^0 gbid to shake hands with ?W "* ""^^ ''"''* ^e should be 
 
 J»t though several have d^e to 17"*^ "^'"'^ ""' ^oes hence 
 ''- gone. -Mother. h/C Xt^' t^^t fr''^" *''«^' 
 
 « }ei. At last some one 
 
 f '^^fl 
 
 B 
 

 
 
 1 
 
 
 ■1 ; :- 
 
 
 ! 
 
 
 i . " , ■ 
 
 
 ;■ i ' 
 
 
 ; 
 
 
 ■ ^ 
 
 ' -: :1 
 
 '■m 
 
 B;'« 
 
 fc'.'i 
 
 204 
 
 KEMAlUvABLE ADVENTULES. 
 
 advised me to come to you, to tell the story I have told to so 
 many. If you could come and see my dying boy, a mother's best 
 prayers should ever ascend to heaven for you. We live a little 
 way out of D ." 
 
 " What !" I said, starting with a suspicion that now for the first 
 
 time crossed my mind; "and was it in D that he heard the 
 
 sermon about which he speaks ?" 
 
 " It was indeed, sir. Oh, were you ever there ?'* 
 
 " Was it about Christmas time that your poor boy came 
 back?" 
 
 " It was in the month of November, sir: how well I recol- 
 lect '* 
 
 " Say no more," I replied ; " I believe God has sent you to the 
 
 one you want at last. I was preaching at D about that time, 
 
 and I verily believe I saw your son there." 
 
 To describe the mother's gratitude upon my signifying it as my 
 intention at once to accompany her home, is next to impossible. 
 I quickly obtained a conveyance, and taking with me a few neces- 
 saries for the sick boy's comfort, we set off together. On the way 
 I communed with my own thoughts, and was still, being lost in 
 wonder at the mysterious ways of Providence. I was yet in a 
 reverie when we arrived at our destination ; and leaving the con- 
 veyance in the town, I followed my sorrowing guide to her dwell- 
 ing. She had prepared me to expect a very miserable place, for 
 she had been obliged to part with almost every article of furniture 
 to buy food for her son ; but I think I never entered a room so 
 chill and comfortless. Not a spark of fire enlivened the rusty 
 grate ; a feeble rushlight was flickering in the window, and was in 
 danger every moment of being extinguished by the wind, which 
 penetrated through the broke a casement, which the widow had 
 vainly striven to mend with pieces of old newspaper ; and ir the 
 corner of this abode of wretchedness was a heap of straw, upon 
 
A LEAF FROM A CLERQYMAJ* S JOURNAL. 
 
 205 
 
 [■ 
 
 wliicli the dying boy was fust breatliing out liis life. The parish 
 surgeon was leaving just as I entered, and to him I said with some 
 warmth, " Is it in a hole like this, sir^ that people, however poor, 
 ouj^ht to breathe their last ?" 
 
 " You must complain to the authorities," he said, not unkindly : 
 " I can only tell you that I have to see poor people die in worse 
 places than this, almost every day of my life." 
 
 It was quite true ; and in my own immediate neighbourhood, I 
 had seen people worse housed than even this poor boy was. My 
 voicf* seemed to touch a cord in the sufferer's heart ; for as soon as 
 the door was close i, and a rustling in the straw attracted my atten- 
 tion to the spot where he was lying, I heard him utter, in tones 
 that went to my very soul, " There is no condemnation to them 
 which are in Christ Jesus." 
 
 I approached the prostrate figure of the poor boy, and for some 
 moments my heart was too fuU to speak, as I recognised in those 
 wan and wasted features the countenance of the youth who had so 
 
 attracted my attention when preaching at D . His head was 
 
 resting upon the arm of a neighbour, \.Lo had come in to keep 
 liim company during the absence of his mother ; but upon the 
 approach of the latter, she resigned her post of afifection into her 
 hands, and parent and child tenderly embraced. I soon saw that 
 death had marked him for his own, and that even a few hours 
 would terminate his earthly existence. It was with great difficulty 
 that he could bring his tongue to utter the words his heart wished 
 to speak; a hectic flush overspread his countenance, and his 
 breathing was short and irregular. I sent the kind neighbour 
 whom we had found with him on our entering, to buy a little wood 
 and coals ; and with as little noise as possible a fire was quickly 
 lighted, and began to send forth a cheerful blaze. After having 
 given him a little wine, I said : " Richard, my poor boy, I am 
 sorry to see you so ill ; I have thought very much about yon ever 
 
 n (I, 
 
 Ii 
 
 
 SI i. 
 
 lit 5 
 
206 
 
 IIE3IARKABLE ADVENTUEES. 
 
 iti 
 
 ',4 
 
 « . 
 
 since I saw you at D , now more than twelve months ago, and 
 
 I have often prayed God to bless you." 
 
 A smile of blessed calmness, as of the heaven to wliich ho 
 was going, lit up the features of the dying one, as he replied in a 
 whisper : *' It is so kind of you to come ; I knew you would, if you 
 could but be found out ; and mother, dear mother has been so kind 
 to take so much trouble. I behaved very ill to her." 
 
 His mother knelt down and kissed his parched lips. 
 
 " But yom* mother, llichard, has forgiven you," I replied ; " and 
 there is a Saviour more loving and gentle, and more ready to 
 forgive than the tenderest mother who ever watched by a sick 
 bed." 
 
 " Yes, sir, I know there is ; I know there is," he repeated witli 
 great emphasis. " Thank you a thousand times for telling mo 
 about him in. a way that I could understand :" and then, to my 
 grateful surprise, he repeated the pith of the discourse I had 
 delivered at D . 
 
 " Oh, how I prayed that night, sir, as I was going home to ask 
 mother's pardon ! Once I felt almost inclined to turn back and 
 not go home; but then there sounded in my ears the words, 
 * There is no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus ;' 
 and so I knelt down in a field near to where mother was living 
 then, and prayed to God to have mercy upon me, and give mfe a 
 new heart ; and I have often thought since, sir, that God's recep- 
 tion of the sinful wasn't unlike mother's receiving of me ; for she 
 didn't mention anything about the past, except to forgive me for 
 it, and to encourage me for the future." 
 
 " Yes, Eichard, God meets his penitent and prodigal ones when 
 they are a great way off, and clothes them in royal robes ; and his 
 angels in heaven rejoice over the repentance of a sinner." ,- 1 
 
 A violent fit of coughing prevented for awhile any further con- 
 versation ; but upon its subsiding, he said, in a painful whisper : 
 
A LEAF FROM A CLEKGYMAN S JOURNAL. 
 
 207 
 
 ** You have come, sir, to see me die. Do not weep, mother ; it's 
 all for the best, and we shall meet again where men iiunger no 
 more, nor thirst any more, and where God wij^es away all tears 
 from our eyes. It seems hard to part now ; but we shall hereafter 
 see that it was for the best — for the best," he repeated. 
 
 The night winds howled dismally past the lattice, and shook the 
 frail walls of the room in which a soul, redeemed not with things 
 corruptible, but with the precious blood of Christ, was awaiting its 
 dismissal to the enjoyment of the heavenly inheritance ; and in the 
 pauses of the storm the dying boy went on : "I used to think, sir, 
 when I was at sea, that the wind howling hke that was the angry 
 voice of God rebuking me for my ingratitude and sinfulness. When 
 I was shipwrecked, and was clinging to a mast for my life, the 
 wind howled like that, and I expected to be lost here and in ■'he 
 world to come ; but, praise be to God, he has made me feel it to 
 be a faithful saying, that Christ came into the world to save sinners, 
 and that in him there is no condemnation." 
 
 " And do you feel, Richard, that Christ is with you now ?" I 
 asked. 
 
 *' Yes, sir," he replied, " I feel him underneath my soul, holding 
 it up hke mother's arm is holding my head now." 
 
 " His arm, my dear boy, is an everlasting one," I said ; " you 
 cannot slip through that, and — 
 
 * He will present your soul, 
 Unblemished and complete, 
 Before tlio glory of his face 
 With joys divinely great.' " 
 
 I read and prayed with him, and committed his soul to the keep- 
 ino- of a faithful and merciful Creator. His faith was fixed upon 
 the Eock of Ages, and a sweet assurance of faith had been given 
 him ; he had the witness of the Spirit within himself that he was 
 born again, and reconciled to the Father of spirits. I could not but 
 
 - t 
 
 ! 
 
 ' ■ ', 
 
 i 
 
 
 m 
 
 It:? 
 
 1. 
 
 i 
 
 'Iif:!i1 
 
 V' 
 
 i i 
 
 11 
 
 ^ 1 
 
 I' i 
 
 i 'i.ii 
 
I 
 
 I H 
 
 
 208 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 gratefully thank the Giver of all good for permitting me to witness 
 a scene like this, and for making my feeble labours a blessing to 
 this poor boy's soul. 
 
 Being determined to spend the night ^vith him, I went out, and 
 sent tlie conveyance back with a message that I should not return 
 home that night : and upon my re-entering the widow's abode, her 
 son had dropped into a deep and quiet slumber. We stood silently 
 watching him, believing that he was sinking into his last sleep. 
 Anything more solemn than the chamber of the dying there cannot 
 be on tills earth of ours : the death-bed, be it where it may, in the 
 cottage or in the palace, is a spot round which our tenderest and 
 most solemn thoughts and feelings gather. To this hour, some of 
 my deepest feelings stand associated with that night of watching 
 by poor Richard's dying bed. Towards morning he awoke, and 
 said in an altered voice, " Mother, where are you ? I cannot 
 see you." 
 
 His mother knelt down and supported his fevered head upon 
 her arm. 
 
 " Is the minister gone, mother ?" 
 
 "No, Richard, I am here," I said, gently drawing my hand 
 across his forehead, upon which the dews of death were thickly 
 
 rising. 
 
 :.& 
 
 " How the wind roars ! mother ; it has put out all the light !" 
 Alas ! it was death's blindness that was taking hold upon him. 
 
 " Richard, my dear boy, there is a world where they need no 
 candle, neither light of the sun : there is no night there, Richard." 
 
 " No," he replied, with startling energy, " the Lsmb is the light 
 thereof." 
 
 He now laboured fearfully for breath, and more thau once 
 I thought the vital spark had fled. Suddenly he became quite 
 calm, drew his hand from mine, and lifted his arms in an attitude 
 of prayer ; then in words that, for their strength of tone, seemed 
 
AX ADVENTURE UPON EXMOOR. 
 
 209 
 
 mther to belong to the living than the dying, he cried out, " There 
 is NO condemnation." And fell back on his mother's bosom and died 
 there. 
 
 AN ADVENTUKE UPON EXMOOK. 
 
 Reader, have you ever seen Exmoor ? If you have, it will need 
 no description ; but for the benefit of those who do not know it, 1 
 will endeavour to give some general outline of the country. Ima- 
 gine, then, to yourself a vast common, extending on one side as far 
 as the eye can carry, and on the others bounded by copses and 
 gently undulating fields, together with pasture lands, as rich as the 
 most enthusiastic yeoman could desire. When you are fairly in the 
 middle of the moor, not a habitation of any sort can be seen : bleak 
 and inhospitable, with its surface covered with fern, heather, and 
 grass, and not even a tree to afford shelter from the cold winds, it 
 offers but a poor abode for the night to the unwary traveller, who, 
 as not imfrequently happens, may chance to have lost his way in 
 the dense mists that are so frequently sweeping over it. To a 
 person who is on any of the high points of the moor, there appears 
 sometimes a most curious phenomenon : though enveloped on every 
 side by the thickest mist, he may look down and see the surround- 
 ing fields quite clearly, lighted up by the rays of the sun, which fall 
 upon them through the overhanging fog. This, however, needs 
 rather to be seen than described ; and I should certainly advise 
 any one that had sufficient leisure, and was within a practicable 
 distance, to run down for a few days to inspect the delicious beauty 
 of the towns and villages of North Devon, as well as the wilder 
 and perhaps, to some, less inviting scenery of Exmoor. But now 
 let me begin my tale. 
 One fine morning in August, in company with my friend 
 
 ^1 
 
 i 
 
 ' ■ I 
 
 *; 1 
 
 ! 
 
 1 > 
 
 R 1 
 
 H 
 
 if; 
 
 . 
 
 
 
 PI 
 
 \ 1 
 
 a^ 
 
210 
 
 KEMAKKABLE ADVENTUKES. 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 Thornton and his landlord, an old farmer with whom I was Rtayinf^, 
 I left the little village of North Molton to spend a day at the beau- 
 tiful watcrinn; phiccs of Ijynmouth and Lynton. The first three 
 miles of our journey were along a road, on one side of whicli lay a 
 hilly common covered with the purple heather, then in full bloom 
 on the other, by the most beautiful woods, so lovely and picturesque 
 in their tints of hazy green, that I am afraid it would have hardly 
 pleased the ears of the more imaginative and poetical to have heard 
 them styled by our old companion under the more technical deno- 
 mination of " fox covers." My friend kept amusing me with tales 
 of the different hunts he had had after foxes started by Lord Ports- 
 mouth's hounds in these sylvan retreats, till we came to the edge of 
 bleak and dismal Exmoor, where the mist was so intense that we 
 were obliged to put on our macintoshes, which we had taken the 
 precaution to buckle to our saddles before starting. By keeping 
 along the road which winds across the moor, we got to one of its 
 highest points. Gradually we left the mist behind us, as we 
 began to descend the almost precipitous road that leads into 
 Lynmouth. 
 
 Arrived here, we put our horses up at the Ljudale Hotel, 
 which I would recommend in the highest terms to all travellers 
 and tourists. We then proceeded to inspect the beauties of the 
 village, wliich were quite new to me, as well as to lave our bodies 
 in the cool waters of the Bristol Channel ; and so returned to din- 
 ner \\ith our appetites considerably sharpened by a ride of sixteen 
 miles, a short constitutional, and a bathe. After the conclusion of 
 our meal we agreed to go to Lynton, where we saw all the lions of 
 that beautiful little spot. Seven o'clock in the evening came, and 
 found us gathering up the reins in our hands preparatoiy to 
 mounting our horses for the homeward ride. Half an hour along a 
 narrow path, above a deep precipice, brought us to the most beau- 
 tiful of all the places we had as yet visited, Waters* ]\Ieet. Here 
 
AN ADVENTUKE UPON EXMOOR. 
 
 211 
 
 nresque 
 3 hardly 
 ^e heard 
 il deno- 
 ith tales 
 rd Ports- 
 3 edge of 
 that we 
 aken the 
 r keeping 
 one of its 
 IS, as we 
 3ads into 
 
 the almost deafening roar of the conflicting torrents, the spray 
 dashed from rock to rock and tree to tree, together with the over- 
 hanging boughs which by their dark-gi'cen foliag:e form a sort of 
 roof, are all calculated to inspire the mind with a love of the beau- 
 tiful and picturesque. Winding along a path surrounded on all 
 sides by the most magnificent scenery, wo at last reached the out- 
 skirts of Exmoor. Here, as wo stopped to cast our farewell glance 
 upon the foaming waters of the Lyn, which lay beneath us, Thorn- 
 ton suddenly exclaimed — 
 
 " Now, Mr. Passmore " (for that was the name of the old farmer 
 who accompanied us), " if the moor is pretty free from mist, I can 
 find a way home which will save us more than three miles : shall 
 we try it ?" 
 
 " Well, sir, there's uo saying," replied he ; " but I don't think, 
 by look of the sky at least, there's going to be much fog ; so we 
 may as well try, sir : * nothing venture, nothing gain.' " 
 
 " All right ; then we will," exclaimed the joint voices of Thorn- 
 ton and myself. 
 
 Onward we rode through real Devonshire lanes, covered with 
 fern and grass, till we got to Exmoor. " Hurrah ! there's no mist," 
 we shouted out ; and so, thinking ourselves safe, launched boldly 
 into the moor. After having ridden for about half an hour, we 
 gradually became alive to the reality of a thick fog advancing upon 
 us; but we were now so far on in the right road, as to think there 
 was more danger in turning back than in going on. At last, as the 
 turf became unpleasantly wet and soft beneath our horses' hoofs, I 
 said, " Isn't this a bog ?" 
 
 " Well," said Thornton, smiling, " I think we have come a little 
 bit too much to our right, but we must go rather more to the left, 
 then we shall be all right." We accordingly did ; but neverthe- 
 less, it didn't mend matters at all, as every step furtlier covered our 
 horses' legs more and more in the boggy soil which was beneath us* 
 
 Vijl 
 
 f 
 
 hH.i 
 
 ! 1 
 
 (I ■] 
 
 •■> ■ 'i 
 
 M 
 
 'i| 
 
wmm 
 
 212 
 
 REMARKAIJLK ADVENTURES. 
 
 Aa this increased, wo could soo timidity visibly dcpict<^d on tlu> 
 countenance of tho old farmer, who at last gavo vent to his fours 
 by exclaiming, "My good sir, this '11 never do; wo must turn 
 back." 
 
 " Nonsense," said Thornton ; " don't you see it's firmer over here ? 
 For'ard I say ; don't * try back.' " 
 
 For a few steps the ground certainly was a little firmer, but it 
 then began to get bad again; and just as our old friend was goinj; 
 to remonstrate, wo espied one of those large gutters, or, to use a 
 more dignified word, chasms, which are so common on Exmoor, 
 down wliich Thornton, who was riding first, went, and we, after tho 
 manner of tho game of " follow my leader," succeeded. Now, at 
 no time is it particularly pleasant to ride down one of these places, 
 as, being used for the purpose of a drain, it is always wet and 
 damp ; much less still is it to be desired when there is a heavy fon; 
 settled over the whole moor. But as this path was better than tho 
 swampy track we had just been following, we chose it. On we 
 jogged in silence, till we came to an apparent termination of our 
 career — for no less a sight than the end of this mammoth drain 
 came before oiu* eyes, up the sides of which it was impossible to 
 climb, as they descended perpendicularly. On one side, however, 
 there was an opening, in the shape of a six-barred gate, new, and 
 strong, and locked ; beyond which a gentle slope led up to the 
 surface of the common. To try to get through this was now our 
 only chance ; but how to achieve this was what puzzled us. We 
 couldn't leap over it, as there was no run for our horses ; and even 
 if there had been, I very much doubt whether, in their fagged and 
 weary state, they would have done it ; and the bars were so pro- 
 vokingly strongly put up as to be impossible to break down ; un- 
 hinging it, too, was out of the question, for it was constructed in 
 such a way as to render this impracticable. "What was to be done, 
 then ? To file the padlock away was a work of the last extremity, 
 
AN ADVENTUIIK UPON EXMOOR. 
 
 213 
 
 ])\\t it must be done; and I fortunately had in my pockrt-knifo n 
 small filo : so wo agreed to take it by turns, Thornton beginning 
 first. 
 
 " Done at last!" said my friend, surveying his work with a self- 
 complacent sort of air, as much as to say, *' See, I have saved you :" 
 and through we passed. Glad we were indeed to find ourselves on 
 terra firma, as wo considered firm turf after the slippy-sloppy soil 
 our horses had been wading through. Having ridden on for some 
 time, and coming to no road, Thornton, who was getting rather 
 impatient, said, " I tell you what it is, there's no use in going on 
 like this : just hold my horse, and I will go and reconnoitre a 
 little." 
 
 " All right ;" and away he went, leaving us in a state of the most 
 anxious suspense till he should return. A quarter of an hour 
 passed, half an hour, and still no Thornton : we then began to bo 
 really afraid lest he might have lost his way. 
 
 " Halloo-o-o-o-o !" no reply. Same noise repeated ; no answer ; 
 up and down we wandered, for more than an hour and a half, never 
 leaving the spot far, lest he might come there in our absence. At 
 last, after what seemed to us hours, we heard the shrill note of a 
 dog-whistle, which I knew Thornton had with him. 
 
 " Here we are-re-re-re," shouted we with all our might. 
 
 " Coming," replied a voice, through the cold and heavy mist, 
 and in less than a minute he was up beside us. 
 
 " Oh," said he, ** I've found out (puff ! gasp ! for he was thoroughly 
 winded) where we are : we're at Exliead, the worst ground in the 
 whole forest — no road for miles." 
 
 Pleasant, wasn't it ? Here we were, at half-past nine, on the 
 worst ground of the moor ; no road for ever so far, and full ten 
 miles from home, enveloped in a thick mist. Suddenly Thornton, 
 who still maintained his proud position as outrider, cried out, 
 " Hurrah ! here's the Simmon's Bath Road." 
 
• ;: :■ 
 
 1- I 
 
 j 
 ! 
 
 214 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 Half an hour more brought us to the Simmon's Batli Inn, where 
 we dismounted, eager to procure refreshment for man and beast ; 
 and, after having gained tliis, we merrily passed over the six more 
 miles which lay bet r een us and North Molton. Joyous indeed was 
 our talk over the fire that evening ; for, notwithstanding the time 
 of the year, the dampness and cold to which we had been exposed 
 required it ; and heartily did we congratulate ourselves upon being 
 within four warm and comfortable walls, instead of upon the bleak 
 and dreary moor. 
 
 So ended our adventure upon Exmoor, and pleasant indeed is it 
 now to recall it ; for, as the man of Arpinum says, " The remem- 
 brance of past sorrow, in the m'dst of security, inspires pleasure," 
 though, if all our other sorrows in life were not heavier than this 
 one, we should find its path rather smoother than we do. 
 
 ADVENTUKE IN PERU. 
 
 On the coast of Peru, between the Cordillera of the Andes and the 
 ocean, is a tract of country rarely visited by Europeans. The tra- 
 veller accidentally thrown upon it might imagine himself suddenly 
 transported from the soft Pacific, with its palm-clad isles and coral 
 reefs, to the centre of the great African desert, exchanging the 
 scented air and steady tmde-winds for the whirling sand hill and 
 the death'breathing sirocco. 
 
 Extending over a length of five hundred leagues, its breadth 
 varying from eighty miles to merely a few paces — as the foot of 
 the sierra advances to or recedes from the sea — is a belt of barren 
 sand, its desolate surface only broken at wide intervals by the 
 passage of some mountain stream, which, spreading fertility on its 
 rainless banks, raises in the sand ocean a narrow island, covered 
 
ADVENTURE IN PERU. 
 
 215 
 
 with the rich and varied vegetation of the tropics. At times, tlie 
 snows, melting on the peaks of the vast mountains, hurry down the 
 ravines in torrents ; and the flood, filling the little watercoui"ses, 
 overflows their banks, and spreads even into the thirsty desert, 
 giving new life to the scorched fruits and flowers that grace the 
 little strip of green. 
 
 Between these streams there is no living creature. A curse 
 seems to rest upon the land ; for, as the lofty sierra draws into its 
 bosom every moisture-laden cloud, no drop of rain falls on the 
 parched coast. No soL ary blade of grass decks the yellow surface ; 
 the hardy chinchilla seeks refuge in the rugged hills; and the 
 stately condor, soaring aloft till he is but a dark spot upon the pure 
 blue sky, never stoops to so inhospitable a resting place. 
 
 Though destitute of life, the desert is not motionless. The fine 
 sand, caught up by an eddying vvind, is carried along in high 
 columns, long lines of which are seen dan ping over the plains, 
 occasionally striking against each other and dispersing in immense 
 clouds, which are again caught up and hurried on as before. 
 Sometimes a number of small pillars are united, and these again 
 absorb others ; until the mass becomes too heavy for support, and 
 revolving for a short time on its base, falls in a semicircular 
 mound, against which other columns break themselves, until the 
 mound rises to a hill, still retaining a curved shape. Hundreds of 
 these m^danos are scattered over the desert, some of them of con- 
 siderable size ; but the close vicinity of the Cordillera throws into 
 the shade every other eminence, and reduces the sand mountains 
 to mere mole-hills on the plain. Close to tho sea, the low roar of 
 the surf, and the constant leaping of the waves, with the presence 
 of numerous seafowl, break the death-like monotony of tlie scene. 
 
 My visit to this dismal spot was paid under circimo stances which 
 threw no charm around its horrors, but rather added to their 
 strength. Fond as T ever have been of ^vild adventures and strange 
 
 I 
 
 if' 
 
 .1 ^ W'' 
 
 I \^_ 
 
 •. ■> 
 
216 
 
 REMAnKABLK ADVENTURKS. 
 
 sponos, it would require much to tempt mo to repeat the one whidi 
 led me here. I had just h^ft a ship in one of the Peruvian ports, 
 and, havinpf nothing better to do, joined two sailors in the purchase 
 of a lx)at, with tho necessary outfit for a sealing trip. Seals, mo 
 were told, were plentiful on tho islands on the coast, and we wore 
 advised to make our first attempt on a small group which lay 
 al>out thirty leagues to the southward of tho port of Pisco. Wo 
 reached our destination after a long and heavy pull against tho 
 south-east trade-wind, and found it to be a mere cluster of barreu 
 ix)cks, covered with a slight coating of guano, completely destitute 
 of vegetation, and without a single drop of fresh water. Against 
 the latter contingency we were well provided ; the bottom of our 
 large whale-lK)at being stowed with several huge earthern jars 
 which had once been filled with Italia or Pisco, the white brandy 
 of Peru, but which now held a far more precious liquid — good 
 spring water. 
 
 The rocks were alive with flocks of seabirds ; a few turtle oc- 
 casionally contrived to crawl upon the lower edges ; and on the 
 level of the sea were numerous small caves, the rendezvous of our 
 friends, the seals. We did not find the latter so plentiful as wo 
 had been led to expect; a circumstance which we attributed in 
 some measure to the presence of a number of sealions, or hair- 
 seals, a species much larger than the fur-seal, but destitute of the 
 fur, which alone makes the latter valuable. The seal itself, and 
 the mode of capturing it, have been so frequently described, that I 
 shall not stay to weary the reader with a repetition. I may, how- 
 ever, remark that the colour of the seal is a beautiful silver gray, 
 that being the tint of the long hair which forms its outward cover- 
 ing, and which is removed by the furrie.', leaving exposed the soft 
 brown fur with which every one is familiar. Th- animals are 
 generally captured during the night, or rather, in the hour pre- 
 ceding sunrise, before they begin to leave their holes for the water. 
 
 OTTO 
 
ADVKNTUUK IN PEUU. 
 
 217 
 
 A giiiglo blow on the foro pa. ' of tlio liead instantly kills tliom ; 
 tliough, if the stroke bo unskilfully given, the seal will often mako 
 a furious attack on the aggressor, gnashing his strong white teeth, 
 and barking like a dog. A full-grown hair-seal is a dangerous 
 adversary ; and, though generally easily avoided, from his inability 
 to make a short quick turn, he will when enraged spring forward 
 on his flippers with considerable speed. 
 
 Wo quickly cleared tho island on wliich we first landed, and, 
 having secured about forty skins, prepared to pass over to another 
 that lay at two or three miles distance. The spring tides were in, 
 and with them a tremendous surf is always rolling on the coasts of 
 the Pacific, which renders landing even on a smooth beach a very 
 delicate manoeuvre, requiring great care to prevent the boat from 
 filling or capsizing. Ours was, as 1 have said, a South Sea or Ameri- 
 can whale-boat, built stem and stern alike, both sharpened to a point, 
 and steered by a long oar projecting over the stem — a mode of 
 steerage remarkably well suited to a heavy surf, as the powerful 
 leverage of the oar gives the steersman a control over tho boat 
 which the common rudder does not possess. 
 
 The only landing place on the island wo wished to reach was a 
 narrow strip of beach to seaward ; from each side of which a 
 small reef of detached rocks stretched round tho island, and on this 
 the heavy rollers were dashing themselves to pieces, and the white 
 surf boiling and roaring over it most gloriously. Wo pulled for 
 the patch of green water opposite the little beach, and waiting for 
 an extra-sized roller, with one hearty stroke the boat glanced 
 between the rocks. At this critical moment, the steering strop, 
 which connects the steer oar with the boat's stern-post, snapped ; 
 the boat instantly broached to, and came broadside on to the sea ; 
 the next wave curled over her for an instant, broke, and she was 
 gone. The sea which filled her carried me on to the shore, but the 
 reflux washed me out again beyond the line of surf, happily clear 
 
 '\i 
 
 H 
 
 1 
 
 V 
 
 ! ' 
 
 
 a 
 
 j 
 
 ;1 
 
 
 ' 
 
 
 I 
 
 ■'- 
 
 
218 
 
 EEMARKABLE ADVENTUEES. 
 
 m 
 
 If'; 
 
 of the rocks. With a few strokes I was again within the channel, 
 and a following wave carried me high up on the beacli, where 
 digging my fingers in the sands, I held on for a moment, and then 
 ran up above the tide-mark. One of my companions was already 
 ashore ; the other, who was steering when the boat filled, was gone 
 — most probably crushed on the rocks, and then washed round the 
 point of the island. We looked in vain for him. The boat was 
 knocked to pieces ; two oars, a few fragments, a jar half filled witli 
 water, and some pieces of another, were all that reached the 
 island ; everything that we possessed, excepting the few skins we 
 had taken, was irrecoverably gone. The skins were hidden on the 
 first island, where. we intended to call for them on our return. 
 
 After the first feelings of pleasure and expressions of thanks- 
 giving for our safety were over, we began to consider what were 
 our prosj^ects for the future. They were not very satisfactory. 
 The provisions had all disappeared, the island offered no substitute, 
 and we were at least eight miles from the main land, and out of 
 the usual track of vessels running down the coast. After a short 
 consultation, we commenced a tour of our newly acquired territorj^, 
 to ascertain if it would afford us any sort of shelter, as our little 
 tent had gone to the fishes. Our search was unsuccessfid ; we 
 picked up a few limpets, that served for supper, and at sunset lay 
 down on the lee-side of the island, wrapped in our ponchos, which 
 we had happily strapped round us with the belt that contained our 
 sealing knives. On the second day, we found a turtle on the little 
 beach, and made a prize of him, cutting the flesh in strips, which 
 we laid in the sun to dry, as the Brazilians prepare jerked beef. 
 We had tlius a tolerably good supply of food, but our small allow- 
 ance of water would not long hold out, and we suffered terribly 
 from the intense heat, our only shelter from which was — wrapping 
 the ponchos round our heads, and standing up to the neck in water. 
 This we repeated several times during the day ; and I have no 
 
ADVENTURE IN PERU. 
 
 219: 
 
 doubt that the process aided to alleviate thirst, and thus assisted 
 us to spin out the contents of the little jar. So lon^ as daylight 
 lasted, our eyes were constantly fixed upon the sea, and many a 
 white seabird was mistaken for a distant sail. At night wo dreaded 
 that some vessel would pass unseen; and often sent across the 
 ocean a longj shrill cry, which we hoped might reach a passing ship 
 hidden from us by the darkness. 
 
 At last, on the morning of the sixth day, we saw creeping along 
 the land, a small schooner, steering a course that would evidently 
 bring her close to our island. We fastened a shirt to one of the 
 boat's oars, which we fixed on the highest point of the rook ; and 
 with the assistance of the tinder box that I always caiTied at my 
 belt, and the expenditure of half my cotton shirt, we raised a fire 
 from the small remnants of om* boat. 
 
 The wind was very hght, and the schooner seemed asleep on the 
 water ; I thought she would neT er near us ; our fire was dying out, 
 and we had nothing to replenish it ; we were almost losing hope, 
 >vhen suddenly there rose to the vessel's peak a flag, whicli blow- 
 ing out, showed us the Chilian ensign with its single star, and wo 
 knew that she had seen us. In two hours we were aboard. We 
 found she was a Chilian schooner from one of the windward ports 
 of Peru, bound to the Sandwich Islands, where the captain proposed 
 to take us ; but, as we had no wish to visit them, he stood in close 
 to the land and sent the boat ashore with us, supplying us with as 
 much provisions and water as we chose to carry, in return for our 
 seal-skins, which we recovered from the island. 
 
 This was my first visit to a Peruvian desert. The captain of the 
 schooner had explained to us the nature of the country through 
 which we should have to travel ; but, as he also informed us that 
 we were no great distance from one of the intersecting streams, on 
 which were several haciendas, we determined to proceed. Fearful 
 of being lost if we ventured into the interior, we kept for the most 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 [ 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 '■ 1 
 
 
 
 
 ' ► I si 
 
 i. ' ) 
 
 f w 
 
 - 1 ll' 
 
 m 
 
 n r^ 
 
 I i 
 
 ■I 
 
 I 
 
'i 'If 
 
 220 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 
 % 
 
 w 
 
 
 b'I 
 
 part close to the sea, following the indentations of the coast. No 
 stranger ever dares to cross from stream to stream without a guide, 
 and even these aro frequently at fault, as the drifting sand invari- 
 ably obliterates the tracks ; and the only landmarks are the ever- 
 changing medanos, and occasional half-buried heaps of bones, the 
 remains of mules and asses that have perished in the desert. The 
 inhabitants of the little villages on the rivers relate many dreadful 
 narratives of the sufferings of travellers, who have lost their way 
 atid died for want of water. 
 
 In 1823, a vessel, having three hundred troops aboard, was 
 wrecked about fourteen leagues south-west of Pisco. The crew 
 and soldiers escaped the milder death by water ; many of them to 
 meet a far more terrible one — to perish by its want ; their blistered 
 Ups and swollen tongues mocked by the scalding sand ocean, which 
 seemed, to their reeling eyes, to heave and set in waves of liquid 
 metal. Though so near the town, upwards of a hundred men died 
 in the attempt to reach it, and numbers dropped exhausted on the 
 route. Immediately on the receipt of intelligence of the disaster, 
 a troop of cavalry, with a supply of water, was despatched to the 
 assistance of the survivors. Many of them were discovered lying 
 around a clump of palms, which occur at very rare intervals near 
 the sea, and beneath which a small quantity of water is generally 
 found. Some of the miserable men had expired in the act of 
 tearing up the ground with their hands, in the desperate search for 
 the means of quenching their burning thirst ; and few among them 
 were able to raise to their blackened lips the precious water 
 brought by their comrades. Such were the effects of only three 
 days' sojourn in this desolate land, where the bones of those who 
 perished in it still mark the scene of the terrible calamity. 
 
 Already weakened and reduced by our stay upon the little 
 island, we were but ill fitted to contend against the hardships of a 
 passap'** through the desert ; and, though our stock of provisions 
 
ADVENTURE IN PERU. 
 
 221 
 
 and water was sufficient to insure us against present thirst and 
 famine, yet these, though the chief, were not the only evils. 
 Anxious to make as much way as possible during the cool night 
 hours — for it was nearly sundown when we landed — we tmvelled on 
 until long after the Southern Cross, the timepiece of the Indian, 
 had passed its meridian and pointed to the west ; but the frequent 
 detours we were compelled to make round the curved beaches, 
 added considerably to our journey. At length, worn out by fatigue, 
 we lay down on a heap of seaweed, and slept soundly until sun- 
 rise. Befreshed by our rest, and by a hearty breakfast of biscuit 
 and jerked beef, washed down by a draught of water and italia 
 (Peruvian white brandy) with which the Chilian captain had 
 supplied us, we proposed to make a short stretch into the desert 
 before the sun had attained his full power ; for we expected to 
 reach the river on the following day, and I was anxious to gain a 
 better idea of this singular country than could be obtained by 
 merely travelling along its coast. 
 
 With a recklessness upon which I now look back in astonish- 
 ment, we left our bag of provisions and jar of water on the edge of 
 the narrow line of seaweed which marked the presence of the high 
 spring tides ; supposing that we could easily return to them, and 
 unwilling to burden ourselves with a heavy load whilst wading 
 through the sand. After walking about a couple of miles inland, 
 we lost the low roar of the surf, and became more conscious of the 
 strange realities of our position. As I stood apart from my com- 
 panion, who had slightly preceded me, my first impression was of 
 the utter loneliness, the intense solitude of the scene. I had 
 wandered over the plains of Australia, and the pampas of Chili ; 
 the thick forests of Tasmania, the swamps of Ecuador, and the 
 rugged passes of the Andes ; but I had never before felt, in its full 
 force, what it was to be alone. The restless sand was still ; not a 
 breath of air was there to stir it; not a cloud moved in the heavens; 
 
 I » 
 
 V I 
 
 '>m 
 
 m 
 
 if i' 
 
 i t 
 
HB 1 'i* i 
 
 
 ' 'It > 
 W ), 
 
 '^ IE 
 
 ' 'Iw' 
 
 '1 
 1 
 
 ! ; 
 
 ■y '*< 
 
 ,? 
 
 1 1 
 
 222 
 
 REMAEKABLE ADVENTUKES. 
 
 and the eartli shono with a steady glare that did not even flickei* 
 in the motionless atmosphere. As I raised my foot the liquid sand 
 flowed in and instantly erased the impression ; the soil, like its 
 sister ocean, refused to retain a token of man's presence. 
 
 It was a realization of the artist's idea of the last man, in all his 
 horror-stricken loneliness ; but its solitude was more perfect ; for 
 he looks on the wreck of what has once been life, and sees around 
 him the results of motion and the marks of change. But here, 
 every portion of the landscape seemed to have retained the exact 
 position in which it was created ; and though, in fact, the most 
 changeful of all scenery, yet its desolate aspect ever remained the 
 same. The idea of death was not present: death would have 
 implied change, and even the presence of the dead would have 
 been companionship. The eye roamed eagerly over the scene, 
 seeking some point to rest upon. A dark rock, a solitary tree, 
 even the shadow of a flitting cloud, would have been rehef. Tiio 
 stillness was frightful ; its very perfection destroyed the feeling of 
 repose which soothes the mind when gazing on a quiet landscape, and 
 the most grating sound would have struck pleasantly on the straining 
 ear. Every sense was painfully aleit ; but no distant landmark, 
 no wandering perfume, no low tone or passing breeze responded to 
 the call. A feeling of utter hopelessness oppressed me ; and as I 
 turned and caught the towering cordillera stretching away, peak 
 above peak, the sudden barrier, while it broke the spell, appeared 
 to shut me out from all communion with the world, and leave me 
 still more helplessly alone. 
 
 But the sun was now high in the heavens, and the sand burned 
 our feet as we turned to make our way back to the sea. And then, 
 for the first time, did we remember that, all traces of our path 
 being blotted out, we might possibly miss the spot on which wo 
 had carelessly left our stores. A simultaneous exclamation of 
 terror burst from us; but, recollecting that we must eventually 
 
ADVENTUKE IN PERU. 
 
 223 
 
 reach some part of the beach, we turned our backs on the moun- 
 tains and tlie sun, and plodded resolutely onwards. The breeze 
 was coming down jast as it does at sea, making cat's-paws in the 
 sand, and scattering before it little sprays of dust. It reached us 
 hot and dry, and as it increased in strength, clouds of fine sand 
 swept oer us, fiUing our eyes and nostrils, and penetrating the 
 blistered skin. Wrapping the ix)nchos round our heads, we pushed 
 on, and shortly came in sight of the sea, and heard with mpture 
 the sullen roll of the breaking surf. 
 
 Anived on the hard beach, we were nnable to decide on which 
 hand lay our treasures ; but seeing no marks of our passage, we 
 concluded that we were beyond our last night's resting place, and 
 so turned back towards it. Though little more than two hours had 
 elapsed since we parted with our water-jar, yet we were already 
 suffering the most tormenting thirst ; and, with tongues incapable 
 of speech, and eyes half blinded by the sand and sun, we prosecuted 
 our search with all the earnestness of men whose lives depended 
 on its success. In a few minutes my companion discovered the 
 footprints, still legible on the wet beach, where we had turned off 
 into the desert. Twenty yards further was our resting place, and 
 here, as we had left it, covered with seaweed, was the much prized 
 water. The flask of brandy was tossed contemptuously aside, and 
 the narrow neck of the 'botija passed alternately from mouth to 
 mouth, furnishing a draught which all the gold and silver buried 
 in the frowning mountains could not have purchased. 
 
 After a short rest beneath the slight shadow afforded by a heap 
 of mingled sand and weed, we started afresh, as the sun declined, 
 and the breeze hauling from seaward, blew with comparative cool- 
 ness. As we passed the track, which we had recognised in the 
 morning, and which had led us to our lost water, I could not help 
 recalling the favourite book of my boyhood — a book that has made 
 more sailors than pressgang or bounty money — and remembering 
 
 K 
 
 W 
 If 
 
 ifi' ' 
 
 I \ 
 
 •^ B 
 
 •f ^ if 
 
224 
 
 REMARK.VDLE ADVEXTUUES. 
 
 I 
 
 among its black engravings one entitled " Crusoe's astonishment 
 on discovering the footprint in the sand." But whilst poor 
 Robinson's discovery was to him but a source of dismay and terror, 
 ours was a sign of gladness, a token of hope renewed. On the 
 second day, we fell in with patches of thin sickly grass ; by degrees 
 other marks of vegetation appeared ; and in the evening we reached 
 the river, then a small stream that rippled gently along its bed, 
 but in the melting of the mountain snows increased to a rapid, 
 foaming torrent, sweeping impetuously along its channel, over- 
 flowing its banks, and spreading fertility around it. Unlike other 
 rivers, these decrease as they approach the sea, absorbed by the 
 thirsty country through which they pass, and retained to supply 
 the extensive systems of irrigation which are in constant operation 
 on their banks. Travelling up the course of the river, we shortly 
 afterwards arrived at a sugar plantation, where we were hospitably 
 received by its owner, a Frenchman, and a long resident in the 
 country. What a contrast between the scenery here and that 
 through which we had just passed ! from a land destitute of all 
 vegetation to one covered with it in its most luxuriant form was 
 but a single step. From an arid, desolate region, where the 
 bleached bones of the dead were the only signs that life had ever 
 been, to a fruitful land glowing with rich produce, brightened by a 
 lively, sparkling stream, and gladdened by man's presence, was a 
 change indeed. To us, so recently escaped from the most dreadful 
 of all deaths, the scene had double charms ; and though familiar 
 with the rich products of the tropics, yet they met us here as new 
 acquaintances, and we looked upon them with fresh pleasure. 
 There were patches of tall sugar-cane ; fields of noble plantain aiid 
 banana, decked with the rich purple of their pendent clusters, and 
 their huge dark green leaves shadowing the bulky melons that 
 trail their slender stems beneath ; the branchy lime tree, its yellow 
 fruit twinkling among the thick dark foliage; the orange and 
 
ADVENTUKi: IX I'KUU. 
 
 22.'i 
 
 pomegranate ; and tlio creeping vine, ladou with heavy bunches of 
 ripe downy berriea Here was the guava, a low bushy shrub, 
 covered witli tempting apples ready for convc^iou into rich, fine- 
 flavoured jelly ; there the sombre olive offered its green oily fruit. 
 Yonder were a few scattered date trees near a field of stately 
 maize, tlie corn-cobs waving their long silky plumes above frost i 
 rows of juicy melons, guarded by a fence of prickly cactus, with its 
 gorgeous flowers fast ripening into fruit. The black alligator j)ear, 
 its hard kernel bedded in a mass of greenish marrow of peculiar 
 flavour, eaten with salt, and highly prized by native palates, was 
 also there ; with the hot crimson chili or capsicum, and the wrinkled 
 tomata, growing beside the spreading calabash tree, with its crop 
 of washing tubs and sugar basins. 
 
 But see, on this low tree, amidst the narrow pointed leaves, 
 Jiangs the pride and darling of Peru — the fragi*ant cherrimoya. A 
 little larger than an apple, with a scaly rind, its colour dark green 
 intermingled with spots and lines of a greyish brown or blaclc, it 
 lias not a very prepossesshig appearance. But open it : sprinkled 
 with cinnamon-coloured seeds, is a white juicy pulp, whose deli- 
 cious flavour almost warrants the extravagant encomiums of the 
 Peruvians — in which even the grave Humboldt has joined — and 
 you, as the luscious syrup trickles over your palate, are half guilty 
 of high treason in ranking it above the plums, and pears, and 
 apples, that flourish round your own old home in far-off England. 
 
 But here is a plant you have seen before — the humble but 
 imaluable potato in its native country ; and as though it liked its 
 own soil best, it is large and of most excellent quality. Here, too, 
 are gigantic members of the same family — the yam and the camote. 
 The leguminosae are represented by beans, callavancas, and the 
 perpetual feijole, a small bean which appea-rs at every meal. Our 
 favourite cereal, wheat, is absent ; and its place is but ill supplied 
 by the yellow Indian corn. On the sides of the mountains grow 
 
 I 
 
 i: 
 
 rt 
 
 
 :( 1 
 
 I 'I 
 
22f) 
 
 KKMAUKAllLE AUVKNTL UKS. 
 
 
 * ■ 
 
 
 1 
 
 ! 
 
 IfiBI 
 
 1 
 
 
 barley, rye, and above all the quinoa, which in some parts of Peru 
 becomes tlio staff of life. It is the produce of a small shniblty 
 ])lant, bearing tliick clusters of little flowers, succeeding which uiv 
 pods filled with small seeds. These seeds are cooked like rice, and 
 with the boiled leaves form tlie chief sustenance of vast nnndtcrs 
 of the Indians of South America. Ijut we are loitering on the \\ay, 
 loth to leave so rich a garden. 
 
 After watching the process of converting the thick cane-juico 
 into chancaca — for the sugar is not gi'anulated, but cooled in large 
 cakes about an inch in thickness, to which that name is given — 
 we travelled up the river, in company with an Indian mule-driver 
 and his troop of asses laden with produce for Yea, a large town a 
 few leagues distant. When near the sierra, we struck off into the 
 desert, our guide directing his course by the medanos, which leg 
 habit had enabled him to convert into landmarks, though from 
 their frequent shiftings and changing shapes they are but sorry 
 guide-posts. We reached Yea, however, in safety ; and as a beaten 
 road leads from hence to its seaport, Pisco, our journeyings in this 
 desolate country were over, and we could once more mingle in 
 
 ** The crowd, the hum, the shock of men." 
 
 AN ADVENTURE IN CARLINGFORD BAY; OR, THE 
 
 SPRIG OF LAVENDER. 
 
 Yes, I have been wearing a sprig of lavender in my coat all day 
 long. The 26th of September is with me an anniversary day ; and 
 the sprig of lavender vividly recalls the memory of a scene of peril 
 and deliverance. 
 
 The sun rose brightly this morning, and through a cloudless sky 
 he has passed upward and onward to his rest. It was otherwise 
 
Aa\ ADVENTUllE IN CAIILINGFORD BAY. 
 
 227 
 
 on tlio '2Gt]\ of Soptomber, 1829. On that day a lovely scene was 
 made gloomy and sad by blaek clouds careerin;:^ through tlu^ 
 heavens, and by the angry winds, which in fitful gusts swept over 
 the waters of a bay which the day before shone in the sunlight 
 like a sheet of silver. On that morning, I had gone forth with ji 
 younger brother, as we were wont to do, along the shore. We had 
 recently been introduced to a young gentleman, the son of 
 
 Captain . He Avas a deaf mute, but no one could toll from 
 
 his appearance that ho was so. He had received a supt'rior 
 education at Glasgow, could read and write as well as convei-se on 
 the fingers, was full of life and energy, and looked in his undress 
 sailor's garb the leau ideal of manly beauty. 
 
 When this gentleman, who had just succeeded, by the help oi" 
 two boatmen, in launching a boat for an excursion, saw my com- 
 panion and myself standing on the shore, he eagerly waved his 
 hand, beckoning us to join him. We had just expressed to each 
 other our reluctance to do so, in consequence of the threatening- 
 aspect of the weather ; yet, as it was useless to call out to him, we 
 ran down to the water's edge, when by means of signs, as well as 
 through the boatman, he gave us to understand that they were 
 about to have a sail to Rostrevor. With youthful thoughtlessness, 
 putting away all our apprehensions, we leaped at once into tln^ 
 stern of the boat and seated ourselves by his side. A moment 
 afterwards, the sails were filled with a fresh breeze, and like u 
 seabird our bark sped so swiftly before it, that in a quarter ol 
 an hour or little more we had reached the intended limits of our 
 excursion. 
 
 But our ardent friend was not satisfied : he intimated to us, on a 
 pencilled slip of paper, that he had friends at Carlingford, whom 
 he longed to see, and so the signal was given to the two boatmen 
 to direct our voyage thither. Five miles were thus to be passed 
 over ere we could reach our destination. We swept speedily 
 
 hi 
 
 If I 
 
 UK 
 
 ■ :■!! 
 
 I 1 
 
 ■ ' 
 
 J 
 
 '[ 
 
 1 : : 
 
 i "^ 
 
 
 \ 
 
 
 <i 
 
 ■ . 
 
 ill 
 
228 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 , i 
 '■ 
 
 ■l! 
 
 I-I 
 
 
 K im 
 
 I' ,iM .. i 
 
 
 
 N 
 
 iiiii-i 
 
 onward; but as soon as we ivached that part of the bay wliieh 
 lies between two lofty nioup tains, we found ourselves exposed to 
 imminent peril. Suddenly, now from one quarter, then from 
 another, a squall came with darkening wing and rusliing noise, 
 and, striking the boat in a moment, bent it over, ui)t d tlie water 
 began to rush in over its side. The alarm occasioned by this was 
 much heightened when we discovered that both boatmen were in u 
 state bordering on intoxication. We implored them to lower the 
 sails ; but th^ bottle of spirits which they had brought witl\^them 
 had made them reckless of danger. At length, by dint of urgent 
 importunities, we prevailed on them to agree to our proposal, and, 
 " brailing up " the sails, they plied the oars vigorously for an hour, 
 at the end of which time we landed at Carlingford. 
 
 Here, climbing up some steep cliffs, we examined the thick 
 walls and desolate chambers of a fortress erected by king John. 
 We traversed the town itself, nestling as it does beneath a lofty 
 mountain, which, rising up abruptly several thousand feet, like a 
 mighty wall, causes a premature twilight long before the hour 
 when the sun has set in the west. Our new-made acquaintance 
 repaired with joyous expectation to the mansion of the family 
 which he had in the morning so earnestly desired to visit. But, to 
 his great disappointment, we discovered that all its inmates were 
 from home. There was a sweet garden plot before the windows, 
 and along the gravel walk which led up to the door was a hedge 
 of lavender, which filled the air with its perfume. I plucked 
 a sprig from that fragrant hedge and placed it in my button- 
 hole. 
 
 The time at length came when we must return homeward. 
 Seven long miles were before us, and it was now four o'clock in 
 the afternoon of one of September's closing days. Our boat, 
 which we had left on the sands, was floated by the fast-flowing 
 tide : and in the warm-hearted desire that we should receive no 
 
AN ADVENTURE IN CARLINGFORD BAY. 
 
 229 
 
 wliicli 
 ised to 
 1 from 
 noise, 
 } water 
 bis was 
 sre ill a 
 rer the 
 i^^tlieni 
 urgent 
 al, and, 
 m hour, 
 
 e thick 
 g John. 
 L a lofty 
 t, like a 
 le hour 
 lintance 
 family 
 But, to 
 es were 
 indows, 
 hedge 
 )lucked 
 I button- 
 lie ward, 
 llock in 
 boat, 
 Iflowing 
 Jive no 
 
 injury to health, our stalwart young friend, who was well accus- 
 tomed to the sea, and every inch a sailor, laid hold of us one after 
 the other, and carrying us through the water, placed us safely and 
 dr}^-shod on board. We were speedily under weigh : the sails 
 flapped the masts at first, while we were under the shelter of the 
 mighty rock on which the old castle was built ; but by and by wo 
 stood out into the bay. We had fondly believed that all our perils 
 were past. What, then, was our surprise when, about two miles 
 ahead of our boat, and in the direct track which it was necessary 
 for us to take, we saw the sea violently upheaved and tossed into 
 foam ! It was as if some sea monster was disporting himself 
 beneath, and in his gambols disturbing the otherwise placid waters. 
 Ever and anon, also, we saw the waters caught up by a sudden 
 squall, and borne along on its tempestuous wings in sheets of wliite 
 
 spray for several hundred yards. Our companion [razed at 
 
 this spectacle with intense interest, his face darkened, he shook his 
 head, and by a great effort he gave utterance, in harsh and guttural 
 accents, to the boding words, " Bad ! verra bad !" We could not 
 but share in his apprehensions ; but these disturbed waters, upon 
 which *' the war of elements " seemed to concentrate its fuiy, 
 were still at some distance, and perhaps ere we reached the place 
 all would be tranquil again. We were deceived in our reckoning : 
 the crisis of danger was at hand. While standing out under a quiet 
 breeze from the rocky coast, suddenly, within a hundred yards of 
 our boat, a " white squall " rose up as it were from the sea in its 
 t'uiy, and with an appalling noise as of a mighty whirlwind, and 
 with tempest speed, it rushed towartls us, and almost in a moment 
 was upon us. I have often since thought of it as a great winding 
 sheet wrapping up death's victims in its folds; and perhaps the 
 figure was suggested by the fatal issue of its fury. 
 
 Our terrified boatmen leaped instantly to their ft it to "brail 
 r.p " the sails ; but it was too late. Our boat was a long narrow 
 
 R 
 
230 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 t ;r 
 iiih 
 
 5,^ : -T : 
 
 l«, 
 
 yawl, employed by the local officers of the revenue for the boaid- 
 in^ of merchant vessels coming into the bay, and not fitted, like 
 the broad-beamed fishing boats along the coast, to encounter the 
 violence of such a tempest. No sooner, therefore, did the squall 
 strike the boat than she was upset, and in a moment 1 was plun«^od 
 into the foaming waves. From boyhood's days, both my brother 
 and myself had been accustomed to swim in the pellucid waters of 
 the river Bann, on whose banks stood the ivy-decked cottage of onr 
 birth. We were therefore able to sustain ourselves when immersed 
 in the sea, and thus had time to realize our condition, and under 
 the powerful instinct of self-preservation to seek how we might 
 best escape from the jaws of death. As for myself, my first glance 
 was toward the shore ; but, discouraged and almost despairing, I 
 turned round and looked towards the boat, in the hope that I migh^ 
 be able to cling to it until help could arrive. I saw at one gla. ce 
 how hopeless it was to expect the boat to be righted : it was (Com- 
 pletely overturned ; and even to secure one's self on the keel was 
 impracticable, as the waves washed violently over it. The masts, 
 with the sails draggled in the brine, were lying almost on the sur- 
 face of the water ; and with both hands holding on to the top of the 
 
 mainmast, and submerged to the throat, the deaf mute , 
 
 looking anxiously toward the shore, first met my eye. Nearer to 
 me, and struggling in the waves, was the elder of the two boatmen. 
 His large head, covered with thickly curling anu raven hair, his 
 dark eyes flashing terror, his whole aspect marked by anxiety and 
 affright, are still vividly pictured on my memory. As he battled 
 the waves with his brawny arms and limbs, he shouted aloud from 
 time to time for help, in which his mate, who could not swim, but 
 who v.*s clinging to the stem of the boat, joined lustily. The 
 swimmer, as I have said, was the elder of the two, and, as I after- 
 wards discovered, was a veteran in sin, a drmikard and a debauchee. 
 Only the nigiit befv re, the sleep of the inhabitants and visitors, and 
 
AN ADVENTURE IN CARLINGFORD i:\Y. 
 
 li^l 
 
 of ourselves among the rest, at W , liad been disturbed by the 
 
 uoiso of some brawl in wliich he was involved. 
 
 While 1 .lesitated as to the course I should adopt — whether to 
 cling to the boat or to make for the shore — the voice of my brother 
 fell on my ear. He called on me to follow him as he swam away 
 from the wreck, and I did so. At this moment my presence of 
 mind was to myself wonderful. I felt that if we put forth all our 
 strength and speed, wo should ere long sink from exhaustion, and 
 at once I cautioned my companion to swim slowly. I thoroughly 
 realized my position. I knew I was on the brink of eternity ; but 
 the love of life was strong in me. Dear parents and familiar 
 friends passed in review before me. I looked to the encompassing 
 mountains, and I said to myself, " Am I indeed here to perish ?" 
 It was hard, almost impossible, for me to believe it. And as we 
 pressed on with measured strokes, words of mutual encouragement 
 were spoken, and earnest ejaculations rose to heaven. The cap 
 which my brother wore had fallen off upon his shoulder, as he was 
 tossed out of the boat when it was upset. It was strapped beneath 
 his chin, and thus retained, it was gi'adually swept round over the 
 shoulder until it reached the mouth and threatened to suffocate 
 him. With great difficulty he succeeded in shifting it to the other 
 shoulder. Had it been otherwise, or had one of us been disabled 
 by cramp, or been sinking from exhaustion, and the other endea- 
 voured to save him, there is no doubt that both would have 
 ?)erished. 
 
 \ye continued to swim towards the shore, on which stood a num- 
 >>r of reapers, who had suspended their work, and who were 
 watv^hing us and our companions with intense interest, without any 
 means apparently at hand to rescue us. Meantime a gracious Pro- 
 vident was providing deliverers for us. Two boatmen, who had 
 left on foot the town of Carlingford soon after we had left 
 the harbour, on crowning the top of the hill which commanded 
 
 • H 
 
 I- 
 
 
 • i'l 
 
 if, I 
 
 Hi 
 
 M 
 
 a'' 
 
232 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 ih^^S 
 
 ' I 
 
 a view of the bay, observed tlio furious squall and its disastrous 
 result. They instantly turned, and running back to the harbour, 
 at about the distance of a mile, launched a boat and rowed towards 
 us. Meanthne we struggled on : tlie shore was now within a 
 hundred yards, but our strength w'as failing fast. Suddenly a 
 boat appeared : it was almost upon us ere we perceived it. What 
 a moment of glad surprise ! It was as life from the dead ! 
 
 One moment, and the stalwart sailors seized us and dragged us 
 into the boat, our clothes saturated with water, and the sudden 
 reaction after continued excitement almost causing me to swoon. 
 Speedily, however, I revived, and I eagerly asked after the fate of 
 our three companions. Unseen by us, two boats had from opposite 
 quarters come to the rescue, and one of these had made for the 
 wrecked boat. Tlia- ' ^ ^; now approached our own. We asked 
 for the tidings — our eye, aem selves beheld but one saved. It was 
 the man who could not swim, whom I had left clinging to the stem 
 of the sinking boat. Of tlie other two, young and the curly- 
 headed brawny mariner, whose cry of alarm was still ringing in my 
 ears, not a trace could be found, not even a floating cap or hand- 
 kerchief to indicate the spot where " the strong swimmer in his 
 
 agony " had gone down. Of O , we heard that, losing his hold 
 
 of the top of the mast, he had swam round to the man who clung 
 to the boat, and by signs invited him to get on his back, that lie 
 might carry him to the land. The man told us that he had refused 
 
 to do so, and that then Mr. O had struck out for the shore, and 
 
 wlien he had got away -^.bout ten yards he saw him sink. I now 
 realized more than ever the greatness of our deliverance : at the 
 same time the sudden doom of two men whom I had so latelv seen 
 in the full vigour of health and life filled my mind with horror. 
 
 As soon as we reached home, the news of the upsetting of the 
 revenue boat and the drowning of two men spread rapidly through 
 the town. We had not long reached our lodgings when Captai'i 
 
AN ADVENTURE IN CARLINGFORD liAY. 
 
 
 O , the liither of our lamented and lost young friend, entered. 
 
 IT(> sat down opposite to us, and, asking us one or two questions, we 
 detailed to him all that had occurred. He listened in speechless 
 agony ; and without speaking one word, and with " a grief too deep 
 for tears," that gray-haired soldier and sire went away. Next morn- 
 ii a fleet of boats was seen off the headland, where onr bark had 
 been swamped ; but it was not till two days after that tlie body of 
 
 was discovered, and three weeks passed away ere tlie body 
 
 of the drowned boatman — by that time half devoured by the shell- 
 fish — was found. There seems to be with some a strange pleasure 
 in being the first to bring tidings, even if they are bad ; and so it 
 was in our family circle. But ere long the swift post assured our 
 loving father that his sons were yet alive. 
 
 With all these never-to-be-forgotten incidents crowding on my 
 memory, the 26th of September never returns without exciting in 
 my breast emotions of gratitude to our great Deliverer. Since 
 that day, these long years back, many changes have come in the 
 lot and life of both myself and surviving brother. To one has been 
 assigned " the work of the ministry," and that in three different 
 spheres of toil. The other treads the path of an honourable and 
 upright merchant. But each year, as the 26th of September 
 draws nigh, the one is accustomed, in a brief postscript to his 
 weekly letter, to say, " Let us not forget to give thanks to God in 
 the recollection of our wonderful deliverance from sudden death." 
 
 There are flowers imperishably associated with great events in 
 the public history and life of nations. The rose, the sham .ock, and 
 the thistle, are the emblems of that United Kingdom whose privi- 
 leges we share. The orange lily reminds us of " Orange Boven " 
 and the llevolution of 1688 ; and the fleur de lis of Henri Quatre 
 and the Huguenot cavaliers of France. But, to me, there is a 
 flower more dear and sacred, for it always recalls the memorable 
 day of my merciful deliverance. It is, a Sprig of IjAVENDER. 
 
 i2 
 
 
 'M 
 
 1 
 
 ul 
 
 w 
 
 II 
 
 

 1 
 
 234 
 
 r. KM A U K A 1U,K A 1 )V KNTUHES. 
 
 lilY ENCOUNTER WITH A BUFFALO. 
 
 
 <-H ii^; 
 
 ^ -i 
 
 ; , 
 
 
 m 
 
 ■J 
 
 = ,• 'i :! 
 
 i I 
 
 v! 
 
 ]\liNK has boon aii advcntuvoiis life. Thrice have I boon elu'))- 
 wreckod, twice shot at, wliile onco, by the accidental dischari>e dI' 
 my own gun, the ball carried away the jieak of my cap. I have 
 had ugly encounter with snakes, have been np.«et both from horses 
 and gigs; while on one occasion, when at sea, I fell out of a cabin 
 window and was nearly drowned ; besides many other hairbreadth 
 escapes, to relate all of which would occupy too much space. Ihit 
 I mean now to speak of one adventure which occurred in 1840 ; 
 one to which I can seldom recur without laughing and shudder inn- 
 alternately. I laugh to think of the ridiculous figure I must have 
 cut in the eyes of idle spectators ; I shudder to remember that my 
 life was so nearly forfeited by my temerity. 
 
 I was then a lad of barely fifteen years of age, and the circum- 
 stances were as follows. 
 
 I was stationed for a few months at Penang, that delightful little 
 spot in the Straits of Malacca, where the climate is the finest in the 
 whole Eastern Archipelago, the people the most hospitable and 
 friendlv, the fi-uits the most delicious, the flowers the most frairrant, 
 and the birds the best warblers in the east. One day, a laAvyer of 
 the name of C — , who lived in the main street of Penang — the only 
 street without a turning in the island, and which runs parallel with 
 the harbour — had invited a few friends, chiefly officers of the 
 native infantry corps stationed on the island, to partake of a quiet 
 dinner at his house. Amonji^st the favoured few mv name was in- 
 eluded ; accordingly, at the appointed hour, we assembled at the 
 lawyer's table. In most parts of India, as well as in the Straits, it 
 is usual for young men at a bachelors' party to be saws fa^on. The 
 heat is so intense, sometimes, tliat even the thin white cambric 
 
MY KNCOt'NTKR WITH A HUFFAT^O. 
 
 
 jackets jiro felt nn inconvonionco, and aro accord iiifjly dofTcd. 'Vh'iA 
 was pnuMHoly tli(^ case witli us on tlu; j)n\scnt occasion. Well, flic 
 dinner passed off, and the dessert cam(; on. We sat waiting I'ortlio 
 hour to arrive when tlio coolness of tlu» (weniw^ would permit of 
 <mr mounting our ponies, and takinp^ a canter in the environs of 
 (reorgo Town. Tho streets aro at all times quiet in Penang, but 
 more especially so between the hours (»!' three and live o'clock, 
 when people for tho most part are enjoying a siesta. 
 
 On this occasion, however, while still seated at tho table, W(^ 
 wore suddenly startled by the very unusual sounds of firearms, and 
 the distant hootings of a multitude. What coidd it be? Wo 
 listened attentively ; there was no mistake about tho matter at all ; 
 the authors of the alarm, whoever they might be, were evidently 
 Hearing us, and that at a rapid rate. The firing was all tho time 
 kept up smartly, not in volleys, but it resembled tho firing of the 
 light infantry platoon. What could it be ? was the question again 
 repeated. At length wo unanimously came to the conclusion that 
 it must be an emeute, commenced most probably by the Malays and 
 the Achenese, who were seeking some bloodthirsty revenge, and 
 would doubtless, as we feared, massacre every one that crossed 
 their path. At this moment a tremendous shout was raised at tho 
 top of the street in which the lawyer s house stood, accompanied 
 by a more rapid firing than ever, while we could distinctly hoar thft 
 bullets whizzing along the street. There was now no longer any 
 doubt on our minds, and each one, seizing his hat or cap, made a 
 rush down-stairs with the intention of retreating to the seaside ; 
 there, if possible, to secure a boat ; or, if not, to swim off to the 
 shipping for refuge. Many instances had lately occun-ed of vindic- 
 tive Malays running a muck ; that is to say, after having committeu 
 a murder, rendered callous by the certainty of death, and uiged on 
 by a thirst for blood, they arm themselves with a kreese, and rush 
 up and down the streets, wounding every one who comes in their 
 
 • ■ m 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 ,. ■ . 
 
 ■■ t 
 
 r 
 
 . i -I 
 
 \ 
 
230 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 ...■1 ,t 
 
 
 • 1^ 
 
 way, until they arc eithor shot or arrested. r>osid(?s this, a montli 
 liad barely elapsed since some Malay convicts, transported to 
 Ceylon, had risen against the crew and massacred them in the 
 most barbarous manner. With these facts in our mem(^ry, ni> 
 wonder that we were alarmed, as we too well knew that wo had 
 but little mercy to expect at their hands ; while, from the circum- 
 stance of their having arrived at this point of the island, it was 
 evident that they must have traversed the military quarters, and 
 consequently that they had in all probability massacred every 
 European and native soldier. There was yet the little fort with 
 the European artillery, and the shipping in the roads, which, pro- 
 vided our supposition was correct, afforded the only chances of 
 escape. We had every hope of reaching shelter, however, as the 
 assailants were approaching from a contrary direction. Down we 
 lushed, therefore, half-a-dozen steps at a time ; the passage and 
 then the door were speedily cleared, and we found ourselves in the 
 open street. A momentary gaze in the direction of the crowd con- 
 iirmed our previous suspicion, and balls came whizzing by in most 
 unpleasant proximity to our persons. 
 
 At tlie instant I was about to turn, and take to my heels for the 
 sea, I witnessed a most extraordinary phenomenon. A fat old 
 Chinaman, who to all appearance was flying like ourselves from the 
 vengeance of the marauders, suddenly took a most astonishing leap 
 into the air, and disappeared over the wall of a neighbouring 
 court-yard. Before I had time to conjecture how this sudden dis- 
 play of agility was effected, I had sufficient motives to put my own 
 to the test ; for, not two yards in front of me, and evidently haviag 
 singled me out as a capital target, there came tearing down at full 
 speed a huge mad buffalo, equal in height and strength of limb to 
 any bison I had ever met with in the Wynard Jungle. There was 
 the fire of anger and madness in his eye, and his mouth was 
 covered with foam and blood. 1 could almost feel the heat of his 
 
 . ^ 
 
MY ENCOUNTER WITH A BUFFALO. 
 
 237 
 
 hard Lrcatliinjif as I tiirnod i)i'ocii)itately with terror and flod for ray 
 lifo. If ever fear lent wings to human feet, mine must have been 
 decorated with as many as ever gave speed to a Mercury. I dared 
 not look behind, but still I heard and felt the infuriated tiling, and 
 every instant expected to feel his sharp-pointed horns piercing my 
 l)a(!k and lungs. From my iriend's house it was barely three 
 Imndred yards to the jetty ; but then I had to turn to my right, 
 and so doing the buffalo would most indubitably have doubled uj)on 
 and caught me in the very act of turning. This I saw at a 
 moment's glance, and consequently there was nothing left for mo 
 but to make straight for the fort, which was not more than four 
 Imndred yards from the jetty. Immediately before me was a 
 species of raihng, which fenced off an exercise ground for tluj 
 artillery, and was of sufficient height to prevent donkeys and cows 
 from leaping over. This fence was made of posts planted into the 
 ground at regular distances, through which a stout rope was passed. 
 Had I not been so hotly pressed, I could easily have stooped under 
 the rope and so have escaped ; but that was now out of the ques- 
 tion: my life depended upon the jump, and no acrobat in the 
 streets of London ever more astonished the multitude than I did 
 myself on this occasion, by the tremendous spring I took. I 
 alighted safely on the other side, but, without pausing a moment, 
 renewed my flight towards the sentry at the fort-gate, who, seeing 
 my danger, was rushing forward to meet me. 
 
 All this time, it must be remembered, the people never ceased 
 firing at the infuriated animal, who was snorting and roaring under 
 the pain of not less than twenty bullet wounds, as I afterwards dis- 
 covered. How I escaped being shot myself, or at least wounded, is 
 •even more wonderful than my outstripping the buffalo in swiftness. 
 I can only remember my escape with astonishment and with grati- 
 tude. Still I ran on, till at last I missed the sound of the pursuer, 
 and, glancing hastily over my shoulder, had the unspeakable satis- 
 
 M 
 
 ' ai 
 
 I i-.i' 
 
 mi 
 
 ■I . 
 
 m 
 
Ir ■ 
 
 !* i 
 
 ■ m ik; 
 
 ■i i 
 
 •„ "A 
 
 ) ' '" 
 
 S X 
 
 im ■ 
 
 (1. iWv-i"- 
 
 1^ Mr ; ■ 
 
 2ns 
 
 TlEMARKABr.E ADYKNTHRKS. 
 
 faction of heholding the buffalo cliarging at an om]>ty cajriajro 
 which was standing near tlio jetty points, and Avhos(3 panels lu> 
 smasho(l in such a manner as made my heart tremhh^ when T 
 thouijht what my rihs wonld have suffered from his horns. It 
 would seem that thc! buflalo most valiantly made the leap, detcr- 
 niined to have a pusli at me at any rate ; but his strenirth was too 
 much exiianstod from loss of blood, and this, in addition to his owu 
 weighty bulk, disaWed him from clearinr^ tlie barrier, so that ho fell 
 ba^k wards only to rise again with freshly maddened fury, and 
 charge in an opposite direction. 
 
 There were at this time several ladies and children collected at 
 the jetty — the usual rendezvous of an evening; and it may be 
 readily conceived with what a thrill of terror they behold this 
 exploit, and how, with screams and trembling, they rushed into 
 boats and got rowed out into the bay ; after this the buffalo 
 changed his course, and charged, as I have said, the palanquin 
 carriage. The concourse had now hemmed the maddened brute 
 completely in ; wherever he made a charge, he was rebutfod at the 
 point of the bayonet, or received another ball into his perforated 
 body. At last, as a final and desperate resource, and determined 
 not to give in to his mimberless tormentors, the noble but infuri- 
 ated animal plunged into the sea, and struck out for the opposite 
 shore of Province Wellesley. Here he was followed by boats and 
 quickly dispatched ; and when they towed the carcass on shore 
 again, it was marvellous to see what tenacity the brute had dis- 
 |)layed, with bullets lodged in parts which in other animals would 
 liave been fatal. Of course, my friends were delighted to shake 
 hands with me again, and to compliment me on the prodigy of 
 valour and presence of mind which I displayed in running away 
 from a rabid animal ; and of course, also, my scamper with the 
 buffalo became a matter of a nine days' wonder, and the theme of 
 many jokes — so closely does the serious sometimes border on the 
 
AN ADVENTURE IN Till: LEVANT. 
 
 23!) 
 
 ludicrous — among the small but liospitable and sociable ooninnmity 
 of IVnuug. I was struck, on reflection afterwards, with the suddcii 
 mauuer in which the danger had arisen. Human alTairs, indeed, 1 
 Iia\ e noticed in my passage through life, are so ordered, that in tli«) 
 most unexpected moments perils arise ; a constitution of nature, 
 which seems intended to teach us how habitually we need the pro- 
 tection of providential aid, and how constant, therefore, ought to 
 be our spirit of humble dependence on God and preparation for 
 the future by a faithful reliance on the Saviour. 
 
 AN ADVENTUKE IN THE LEVANT. 
 
 The hero, or rather victim, of the following thrilling adventure 
 was a fellow passenger of mine in my homeward-bound voyage, 
 dm-ing the year 1850. A Greek by birth, though a Frenchman at 
 lieart, by education and naturalization, he disclosed to me a spo- 
 cinieu of the atrocities sometimes perpetrated by a set of freebooters, 
 in the guise and under the protection of their official positions as 
 (/enS'd'armes, or police constables. Had he not been possessed of 
 the very best certificates from gentlemen holding high rank in the 
 French naval service, as also from the British consul-general on 
 the coast of Barbary, testifying to his general good conduct, 
 sobriety, and truthfulness, I might have been inclined to consider 
 the whole affair as a fabrication designed to excite sympathy and 
 compassion for his sufferings. But when, in addition to the 
 certificates, I watched the face of the sun-burnt Athenian as it 
 glowed with the feelings of indignation at the recital of the treat- 
 ment he had received at the hands of his ccwardlv assailants; 
 when I marked his strong frame quiver and wide chest heave with 
 the various emotions of fear, pain, and anger; when I reflected 
 
 i 
 
 f 
 
 I 
 
240 
 
 REMAlUvAUI-E \DVI:NTUUKS. 
 
 ! Il 
 
 tliut, ill recouiitiiii^ tliis sad pago from his advouturoiis life, he was 
 afroHh opening deep heart wounds ; and when, finally, I reniemborod 
 that ho could not possibly hope to reap any benefit by exciting my 
 interest and sympathy — all tliese circumstances combined served 
 to convince me of the veracity of the tale. 
 
 It was a fine; moonlight night when first this narrative of adven- 
 ture was poured into my attentive ears, and never shall I forget 
 the effect it produced upon tlie group of voyagerLj who were linger- 
 ing on deck until long past the hour of midnight, loth, like myself, 
 to quit the cool and pleasant deck, and all the glories of a Me- 
 diterranean moon-lit sea, for the close and uncongenial berths 
 allotted to us in the cabin. We could just see Malta lighthouse 
 far away on the larboard bow ; and the vessel was dashing through 
 the water at a rate that gave us fair hopes of a quick and pleasant 
 passage to dear old England, from whose shores some of us had 
 been absent for many long years. Wo were sitting upon the hen- 
 coops, or upon the best available seat that offered itself, recount- 
 ing such adventures and describing such scenes as our long residence 
 in the east had subjected us to ;• or else, taking happy mental glimp 
 of home and long absent friends, with whom we hoped speedily 
 again to hold familiar converse. Gradually the conversation began 
 to flag, when it was put to the vote and unanimously carried, that 
 each one of our party should relate some incident of his life and 
 travels. In course of time it came to the turn of the Greek, who, 
 after considerable hesitation, recounted to us the following passage 
 in his history, which appeared to me to present a striking illus- 
 tration of the disorganized state of society in many parts of the 
 east. 
 
 I am, he commenced, a native of Greece. Whilst yet a child, 
 my parents emigrated to France, ard, thanks to their kind care 
 and good education, I was at the age of eighteen a civilized 
 European in manners and morals, and a Protestant by creed. I 
 
AN ADVENTUIIK IN THE LEVANT. 
 
 211 
 
 oould distinctly discern the many foibles of my poor, illitcratt% l)ut 
 crafty countrymen. At the same time that I could not but pity 
 their defects and errors, I shunned their society, considering tiieni 
 too often devoid of principle, and so wily in their every under- 
 taking, thought, word, and deed, as to prove dangerous companions 
 or associates, and seldom to be trusted with a secret or a dollar. In 
 1835 I entered the French service, and joined a war steann'r, 
 commanded by a post-captain in the French navy, "with whom I 
 remained during a period of ten years, and whose testimonials as to 
 my services and character are a suHlcient passport for me to work 
 my way in any part of civilized Europe. The kindness and uu- 
 aflected dignity of this brave and open-hearted old sailor are too 
 well known to demand any comment from me. There are many 
 of his own countrymen, and not a few English, who have directly 
 or indirectly been brought in contact with him on business matters, 
 or in the more agreeable capacity of guests, passengers, or subor- 
 dinate officers ; and I may safely at^sert, that none ever quitted his 
 presence without a conviction of their having been in the society 
 of a perfect gentleman, a gallant and lenient yet strict officer, and 
 a most sincere friend. 
 
 In the month of December, 18 — , the steamer chanced to be 
 lying at anchor in a port in the Levant ; and having at that time a 
 sister living at the city adjacent, who was married to a lieutenant 
 in the Greek artillery, to her house it was my custom to repair on 
 all liberty days, or on other occasions when the day's work was over 
 and I could obtain permission to leave the vessel for a few4iours in 
 the evening. I seldom slept on shore, for somehow or other I 
 never fancied myself at hom.e or felt at ease except when I was in 
 my own snug little cabin on board, and my night's repose was 
 never sounder than when lulled to sleep by the gentle lullaby oi 
 the rippling waves and the music of the Mediterranean breeze. 
 Xo man could have felt happier than I did at the time I am now 
 
 II 
 
 i ' 
 
 I li 
 
 1 ' 
 
 I' 
 
 a 
 
242 
 
 KEMAIUv^VBLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 f ■ 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 r ■ 
 
 
 ^•' 
 
 ! 
 
 t 
 
 ^>; 
 
 hi: 
 
 f 
 
 speaking of, none being apparently so secure from trouble or mis- 
 fortune. I had amassed a small sum of money, which I felt a 
 satisfaction in knowing had been accumulated honestly, by dmt of 
 prrseverance and indefatigable labour. My father had been many 
 years dead, and my poor mother and a younger brother and sister 
 were entirely dependent upon iry exertions for support. Happily 
 I was in a position to place these two latter under the care of a 
 worthy Protestant divine, my mother being unwilling to intrust 
 them to the teachers of a Roman Catholic seminary. 
 
 Sucli were the comfortable circumstances by which I was sur- 
 I'ounded when the incident I am about to relate occurred. Kow 
 terrible its ejBfects have been may be clearly traced by the symbols 
 of j)remature old age which I cany about my person. (Here the 
 narrator paused, and, lifting his hat off his head, displayed to view 
 the many gray hairs that wore thickly mingling with his originally 
 raven locks.) 
 
 I consider, he continued, resuming the thread of his narrative, 
 that to tlie terrible incident in question I owe the abbreviation of 
 my lii'o by full fifteen years; for I have never since, in health or 
 st length, been the man I was before the eventful night of which I 
 am about to speak— a night which taught me the uncertainty of 
 the best arranged human plans and the contingencies to which they 
 are constantly exposed. 
 
 It was late one e\ aning in December that I obtained leave of 
 absence from the officer of the watch, purposing to visit the shore 
 for a few hours, and promising to be on board agam before mid- 
 night at tlie latest. I little thought, on quitting the ship's side, 
 that I should be compelled that night, for the first time in my life, 
 to break my word. It happened to be the eve of Si. Nicholas — a 
 dc.y ccdebrat; d as a festival by the members of the Greek church, 
 and more particularly by such amongst her inhabitants as chanced 
 to be named after that saint, and that claimed him as their patron. 
 
^ 
 
 AN ADVENTURE IN THE LEVANT. 
 
 24;j 
 
 Amonp^st these latter was my brother-in-law ; and as I knew tliat 
 on the morrow I could not with any propria ^ty ask leave to spond 
 the day on shore, I thought I would go up to his house for a i'ew 
 hours that evening, carrying with mo a souvenir, in the shape of a 
 richly mounted Turkish pipe that I had purposely brought with 
 me from Constantinople. This I knew would prove an aerv^ptaMo 
 gift, as he was uniiappily in inveterate smoker. 
 
 I may here state that the town to which I was bound was 
 situated at a distance of nearlv an hour's walk from the landing 
 place, end the road leads over a desolate country, with no houses 
 or other buildings save two coffi e shops, which serve as miserable 
 and unsafe half-way houses for the traveller : besides these, there 
 is a still more miserable shed allotted to the sentry, who is nomi- 
 nally placed there to protect the highway, and be a safeguard to 
 the stranger from the assaidts and raal-treatment of robbers and 
 assassins — a class of men always more or less abundant in these 
 semi-civilized regions. 
 
 I remained later than usual at my sister's house that e\ oning, 
 for tlie weather had suddenly set in boisterous and chilly, witli 
 frefjuent squalls of hail, thunder, and lightning, so that I had 
 deferred my departure to the very last moment, hoping that the 
 Aveatlier might clear up again. It was not till some minutes past 
 eleven that I quitted my sister's house, despite her tears and re- 
 monstrances ; for I was determined, if possible, to be punctual to 
 my promise. Well wrapped up in great coats and conifoi-ters, with 
 nothing but a small rattan switch in my hand, I accordingly started 
 for the seaside, and walked as briskly as T could towards iliu point 
 of embarkation. The night was inten-^ly dark, so much so that I 
 could barely see a yard before me, and the wind howled mourn- 
 fully over the waste ; but the pathway having long l)een familiar 
 to my footsteps, I could have almost picked my way blindfokled. 
 The cold, bleak, cutting blast came in litful gusts over the deserted 
 
 
 'it 
 
 m 
 
244 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 ir; 
 
 #' 
 
 kJh'. 
 
 country ; but the very inclemency of ihe weather was a source of 
 consolation to me, for I imagined that no banditti would expose 
 themselves to that night's wet and cold, when the chances of booty 
 must have been small indeed, few liking to quit the protection of 
 their comfortable roofs and warm firesides. 
 
 I neither met nor saw any one until I had arrived almost within 
 hail of the half-way houses before alluded to : then, for the first 
 time, through the gloom that surrounded me I discerned the forms 
 of several closely muffled figures, moving apparently in the same 
 direction as myself, and whom I supposed to be captains or mates 
 of some of the merchant vessels in the harbour, who for the sake 
 of better security were keeping together till they should reach 
 their respective boats. I immediately availed myself of such a 
 favourable convoy, and, quickening my pace, was soon alongside of 
 the strangers. After exchanging salutations and commenting oi 
 the wretched state of the weather, I inquired if their destination 
 was the same as mine, and was answered in the affirmative. As 
 we proceeded onwards, I had time to take a casual glance at the 
 features and dress of my companions : what little I saw at once 
 convinced me that I had fallen into very suspicious company ; and 
 if the slightest doubt remained as to their real character, this was 
 speedily removed by their unblushing demands to be recompensed 
 for the trouble they would incur in keeping me company, while at 
 the same time they kept edging up and hemming me in on all 
 sides, either with the intention of rifling my person, or of unex- 
 pectedly inflicting a mortal stab, which might enable them to 
 collect such few valuable? as J had about me at their leisure, with 
 the certainty of no clue remaining that might lead to their ultimate 
 detection ; for " dead men ijell no tales." 
 
 I could see that they were well armed, and knew that my only 
 hope for succour was the close vicinity of the guard-house. Watch- 
 ing my opportunity, I made a rush for this place with such impe- 
 
AN ADVENTUKE IN THE LEVANT. 
 
 245 
 
 tuosity as nearly to upset the alarmed sentry, wlio v/as hanging- 
 indolently over a wood fire lit in a hole dug in the centre of the 
 hovel. 
 
 " How now?" shouted the fierce Albanian, on recovering Jiis 
 self-possession : '* what means all this noise and hubbub ?" 
 
 A few words sufficed to acquaint the soldier with the real state 
 of affairs; and as my suspicious companions had passed on, he 
 readily agreed to my sharing the pleasant warmth of the fire with 
 him. As the heat gradually penetrated my many overcoats, 1 
 was glad to strip off my great coat and liang it on a nail in the 
 wall. 
 
 The Albanian spoke Greek as fluently as myself, and entered 
 into conversation freely : he had a sorry tale of want and trouble 
 to recount. The government never paid, though it subjected him, 
 he said, to all the arduous duties of a serf. The rations of himself 
 and companions were insufficient, and what a dog would barely 
 deign to partake of; and as for the meagre cup of wine served out 
 to them, it was more fit to be classed as exceedingly bad vinegar 
 than anything he could compare it to; and then the Albanian 
 threw out unmistakable hints as to the oxcellenco of the wine sold 
 at the coffee shops hard by, lamenting his poverty, which prevented 
 his enabling him to taste and judg*^ '' ^r himself. Upon hearing this, 
 I indiscreetly offered to treat him ; and leaving his musket to take 
 care of itself, he conducted me into the ne;n«»st of the two cafes, on 
 entering wliich I discovered that there were a non-commissioned 
 officer and three privates seated there, drinking and gr iiMing. 
 All were Albanians save the officer, who, howevei-, seemed well 
 versed in their language, and they all spoke Turkish fluently. 
 Unhappily for myself, I was utterly ignorant of both tlir Albanian 
 and Turkish tongues. In treating the soldier to win according 
 to Levantine etiquette I ordered cups to be served all round to his 
 friends and acquaintances. I drank nont myself, but merely 
 
 
 t!l 
 
 m 
 
 .11! 
 
 r 
 
 i4 ^' 
 
2i0 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 sipped it out of compliment to those present. The chanp^e of 
 atmosphere from the stifling little hovel i had just quitted became 
 very soon perceptible, and then, for tlie first time, I remembered 
 having forgotten my great coat. I ran over to fetch it, and on my 
 way back hailed a species of van that was passing, and begged the 
 driver to wait a few moments whilst I just stepped in and paid my 
 reckoning. 
 
 After settling, and pocketing the change, I turned with the 
 intention of hastening out to the van, when to my astonishment and 
 indignation the officer an-ested my progress, and with drawn sabre 
 in hand stood in the door-way and ordered the van to drive oil' 
 immediately. I was perfectly paralysed. He told me, witli 
 assumed sternness, that I had been recognised as a notorious 
 robber and brigand, who had long baffled pursuit, and that I only 
 exchanged that coffee shop for a dungeon and the galleys for life. 
 It was in vain for me to expostulate ; menaces and entreaties were 
 equally futile, as were the many references I gave to some of the 
 best known and most respected residents of the adjacent town. 
 His only reply was, that such was always the language of bad 
 characters. He now ordered two of his men to secure me, by tying 
 my hands together with a bit of strong cordage. I was forced to 
 submit tamely to this painful operation ; and the moment that I 
 was rendered inoffensive, the miscreant seized the scabbard of liis 
 sword, and beat me about the head and shoulders in a most unmer- 
 ciful manner. The soldier I had first met with interfered on my 
 behalf, but he was speedily silenced by his chief, and sent back to 
 his duty in the guard-house. 
 
 How my brain did reel, and my whole frame quiver with an- 
 guish, as I retreated into a corner of the room, and strained every 
 muscle in my efforts to disentangle my hands. Sick and faint at 
 heart, I thought of the long weary hours of nigkt, the cold damp 
 of the prison, and the fi'ost and sleet of tlie season, but I made 
 
1 1 
 
 A>7 ADVENTURE IN THE LEVANT. 
 
 247 
 
 secret resolutions to keep up my circulation by incessant move- 
 ment ; while the thoughts of the morrow, and the pleasant faces of 
 friends cominer to the rescue, cheered me even in this miserv. At 
 tlie same time I lifted up my heart in prayer to Him whoso mercy 
 never faileth, whose all-seeing eye was my only witness, and whose 
 guardianship could save me when no man wa nigh to help me. 
 
 The officer and his guards, assisted by the inhuman coffee shop 
 keeper, held long and earnest counsel together in a language of 
 which I was utterly ignorant. Meanwhile, as they kept on drink- 
 ing, hard words and harder blows were aimed at my unoffending 
 person, and my pockets were ransacked of watch and money. 
 Time crept on slowly and heavily, while I stood there, bruised 
 and wounded, with the frosty wind chilling my veins, till I longed 
 for the arrival of the hour when I should be marched off to prison, 
 and be at least free of the loathsome proximity of my tormentors. 
 At length the word of command was given. One Albanian pre- 
 ceded us with a lantern ; the officer and an armed soldier marched 
 on each side of me ; and close behind me was the third Albanian, 
 with a ready-cocked musket to fire at me if I offered the slightest 
 resistance. 
 
 To my surprise, instead of marching towards the town, the party 
 made a detour and came to the back of the larger of the coffee- 
 houses ; and there, at that still hour of the night, I watched one 
 of them as with the lantern he groped about, evidently in search 
 of something. At length he stopped and beckoned us to approacli : 
 as we advanced he unlocked a sort of concealed door, which when 
 opened disclosed to my dismayed eyes a flight of steps descending 
 into the bowels of the earth. Down these they forced me, and, as 
 the last man descended, I heard the door close (as I then thought) 
 upon me and the world for ever. I counted eight steps, and then 
 we came to another door, which swung heavily on its hinges as the 
 Albanian forced it open. This led into a stone vault, of about 
 
 f 
 I 
 
 M 
 
 Ml 
 
 i 
 
 r 
 
 ■IK- 
 
248 
 
 IIEMAUKAULF ADVENTURES. 
 
 
 ' \ 
 
 p'. 
 
 t ! 
 
 m 
 
 ■■lis i 
 
 ' '"w 
 
 Fi 
 
 
 '^B^ 
 
 ii'r 
 
 
 
 ;-i* 
 
 
 «f 
 
 r"*-i 
 
 " " 
 
 ^^■U tl^ i 
 
 
 
 
 ^^^^h8': 
 
 
 I'^^B^^Pi^ 
 
 
 fi^Hv -.r^.y 
 
 
 mmi 
 
 12 i\»('t square by 8 fi^ct high. Opposito to (ho entranro door tliero 
 wjis ti HO(.*oiul ono^ against which the man with tho loaded muHkct 
 was slationod, while the lantern-bearer guarded tho door of en- 
 tran('(\ I could no longer have any doubt as to my fate; but the 
 love of life was never so dear to me as at that moment. Masterintr 
 my emotions as well as I could, I warned my nssailants to be aware 
 of what the consequinices must be, so soon as I should bo missed 
 by my messnuites and frieiids : I implored them to rememljer that 
 I was the sole support of my family; in short, I used ev(»rv 
 description of entreaty and exhortjvtion ; but I might as well hav(^ 
 sp<ikcn to tho winds. The chief fell upon me, armed with a cudgel ; 
 and, had it not been for the protruding angles of the corm^r into 
 which 1 had retreated, and tho lowness of the room, both of whicli 
 aided in warding off the blows, the consequences must have been 
 fatal. Tired and exhausted, at length he let fall the club, and, 
 seizing on the sentry's musket, took deliberate aim at my unpro- 
 tected breast, and pulled the trigger. I heard the steel click, and 
 then, for a few seconds, which appeared hours to me, all was dark- 
 ness and delirium. 
 
 There was no report ; the gun had missed fire : the last expiring 
 s})ark of hope was rekindled. I glanced anxiously at the muskot, 
 and the flint was gone. Eagerly did they seek and grope about for 
 it on the ground. At this moment I heard the vault open, and 
 saw a fifth figure descend into the vault : he had evidently been 
 watching against surprise, and, hearing the turmoil below cease, 
 jiad imagined all over, and now ccme to claim his share of booty. 
 The strength of Samson was upon me : with one mighty efTort 1 
 disentangled my hands ; with a bound I had gained the steps and 
 dashed the lantern into atoms ; another bound and I was in the 
 open air. I stopped not to think or look behind, but fled on the 
 wings of terror over that dark country in the darkest hour of night 
 I scaled garden walls, fell and was maimed, yet ran on still for my 
 
MY ADVENTURK IN A PINK WOOD. 
 
 249 
 
 life, for my onemios wero on tlio track. Jt was four oVlock noxt 
 morning when I reaclind tlie liouso of a friend ; and no sooner liad 
 I passed tho threshold than I sank down and swooncnl away. 
 
 The rest is soon told. Hniised and maimed as J was, I early 
 next day rcjpaired to the French eonHnl. Jfo at first refused me an 
 interview; 1 persisted, however, and was at length shown into liis 
 bed-room. He chose to doubt my word. 1 told him that tiio 
 Frencli war steamer would soon settle tliat point On this Im 
 thought better of it, and wrote to the commandant. The subter- 
 ranean vault was examined, the guilty parties imprisonc^d, and tlio 
 whole of my statements, together with the medical coHifieates 
 given me, are to this day to be seen in the archives of tho I'rencli 
 embassy. 
 
 Such was tho Greek's tale. In countries where officials ani 
 underpaid, there is a continual temptation to resort to secret or 
 open plunder as a means of increasing their emoluments. I liavc 
 given tho incident as tending to show an English reader the 
 advantages he enjoys in his country, compared with those where 
 tho official guardians of law and order are often the first to violate 
 them. 
 
 
 I' PI 
 
 i I 
 
 i ¥i 
 
 MY ADVENTUKE IN A PINE WOOD. 
 
 3Iy last cruise was in new waters, and very cold waters, and on 
 very important business. It was no less than in pursuit of lius- 
 siuns, with whom our country was then at war. We failed to catcli 
 them at Pietropaulovski, and we vainly chased them round tho 
 peninsula of Kamtschatka into the Sea of Okotsk ; and, as a forlon>. 
 hope, we rushed to the mouth of the Anioor Kiver in pursuit of 
 them. 
 
 It was well on in June, and yet tlie cold was intense ; and, as wo 
 
250 
 
 REMAlUvAIiLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 } 
 
 If- 
 
 
 J: 
 
 '! 
 
 roasted alonp:, wo found the rej^ion still wearing its arctic vesture 
 of line white snow and olive-tinted ice. Tiio service on which wo 
 were engaged was intensely interesting to all on board our ship, 
 which was a steam sloop, in fine working order, prej)ared for anv 
 emergency, provided with machinery for cutting through polar 
 obstructions, and having a Lancaster gun on her deck. The escape 
 of our prey was a special hardship, llesolved to do something, we 
 made for Aien, and, in spite of fog and fi'ost, steered oui* course for 
 the unknown shores of Saghalien. 
 
 Cliinese chartography is in a very crude state, and, worse still, 
 may be charged with a soupgon of humbugging. Having, there- 
 fore, no better guide, we took to the old rule of the three /'«, and 
 by " lead, latitude, and look-out," we proceeded on our anti-Mus- 
 covite expedition. 
 
 It was a regular play at " hide and seek," but without the cry of 
 " day," or the pleasant hint of " hot and hotter," that enhances the 
 interest in the true game. We saw no signs of the foe ; no clue 
 to lead us in our race. The entrance of a harbour, and the grand 
 promise of shelter in the deeply indented shore, were welcome 
 sights, as we turned in from open sea to search the waters that 
 flow round the head of the long island of Saghalien and unite the 
 Sea of Okotsk with the Gulf of Tartary. 
 
 ^ly duties were in the civil department of the naval service, and 
 I therefore enjoyed an amount of leisure not allowed to those em- 
 ployed in worldng the ship or watching for the Kussians. A square 
 inch of land is at any time more interesting to me than a thousand 
 cubic miles of ocean, with all its treasures and beauties. I was 
 longing for pedestrian exercise, even on an ice-float, when it was 
 announced that, with next flowing tide, we were to enter a bay 
 where the Russians were suspected to be secreted. It was an 
 exciting anticipation, and had the good effect of warming us all up 
 a little. The very idea of a run on shore promoted our circulation ; 
 
 in 
 
\\ 
 
 MY ADVENTURE IN A PINE WOOD. 
 
 251 
 
 (ind it was intensely interesting to find ourselves surmonnting a 
 lorniiduble sand-bar that protected the inlet, and not one of our 
 aquadron able to follow us. Alone, we dared the encounter, and 
 wo had it. We met the ships, but not the foe. It was a blunt, 
 dull sort of triumph. Tlioro lay before us the enemy's vessels, aban- 
 doned to our mercy ; nothing to fight with, no one to beat. Wo 
 just paddled round them, wondering " how they got there," and 
 by what art and tact they did that whick our fleet was unable to 
 accomplish. 
 
 By this time I was thoroughly tired of Eussians, and all about 
 them. We had got enough of their forsaken forts, and were weary 
 of picking up mementoes of unresisted visits to their haunts. 
 There was something more than disappointment attending all 
 this useless business ; it was sadly painful. The sight of homes 
 deserted is more suggestive of tender memories to common men 
 than " banquet halls " to poets ; and any one who has done a cam- 
 paign in an enemy's country, will bear witness that it inclines the 
 feelings more to peace than war. Once, a cradle, bearing the still 
 warm impression of a baby's form, gave me a strong parental 
 twitch, and took all desire for "looting" out of my mind, for that 
 time ; and I could see that it considerably subdued the destructive- 
 ness of the very boldest of my companions. 
 
 But the incidents of our cruise are not my present subject ; and I 
 pass on to tell how we used our rare powers of penetrating, and 
 managed to come to close quarters with the land, in a manner it 
 was evidently quite unused to. Though led by no further traces of 
 Russians, we entered many creeks and bays. One of these, in lati- 
 tude 49° N., was of such magnitude, that we determined to explore 
 it ; and as no hydrographer that we knew of mentions it, we gave it 
 the name of our hardy little steamer ; and, as we passed the points 
 of its headlands, we called the capes after each other, according as 
 the honour of discovering was claimed. A land-locked basin bears 
 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 Ml ! 
 
 ■lis 
 
 
252 
 
 REiJAUKAHLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 h 
 
 #1 ' 
 
 mi 
 
 ]^i 
 
 ■r' 
 
 V . 
 
 my patronymic ; aud I judge tliat my brother oflScers were pntiflod 
 by nimilar connections. There wavS much interest, at least, in our 
 labours. We were doing sometliing, after all : this sort of work 
 would record our names in the geographies, if not the histories of 
 our cliildren. 
 
 Wo anchored in a secure haven, between tracts of country in a 
 perfectly primeval condition. On landing >vith a companion, we 
 found the soil was still fast in icy bondage, though the short sum- 
 mer of the region was approaching rapidly. Our road was exces- 
 sively slippery and dangerous. Often as we took one step forward, 
 wo glided back two, so our progress was something like circle 
 sailing. We fetched several points east to make one north, and 
 our motioii would have been skating if it were not climbing. Sword 
 canes did duty for leaping poles, and we ascended a declivitous 
 beach, and arrived on a platform, from which we could view 
 the interior of the country. As .ar as the eye could see all was 
 thick wood. 
 
 " Glorious primeval forest !" exclaimed I, with suitable gesticnla- 
 tion. The sound passed so rapidly through the air, that my com- 
 panion, at a distance of a hundred yards, turned round, as if I had 
 a string to him and had pulled it. 
 
 "Who are you roaring at? I'm not deaf," said he, in a huffy 
 tone. 
 
 The polar phenomena connected with acoustics were not unfami- 
 liar to me. I had been in an atmosphere like this before ; but it 
 was my friend Duff's first realization of the curiosities of hearing in 
 high latitudes. On shipboard they are not so perceptible, pneu- 
 matic forces having many deadening influences, arising from the 
 combination of depressing circumstances. I do not remember that 
 it is much remarked by sailors, though certainly we often notice 
 the distinctness with which we hear noises, especially during night, 
 on board. 
 
MY ADVENTURE IN A PINE WOOD. 
 
 253 
 
 We went on, walking briskly over a thick mat of vegetation, now 
 crusted with ice ; and a few steps brought us into a brnshwood that 
 was less subdued, and more rebellions against our aggressions, 
 l^ho energy necessary to penetrate these barriers is often the oflf- 
 apring of the irritating effect of cold on the system. A lazier fellow 
 than Duft* does not sleep in a hammock ; yet he rose to the occasion 
 this time, and it amazed me to see him take arms and legs against 
 this sea of bushes, and by opposing rend them. 
 
 Once in for it, we gaily gave push for push, and bore all the rubs 
 and scratches that awaited our endeavours on every side. J^og- 
 rose thickets were struggled through, junipers grasped at, chrysan- 
 themums waded into, and, among all these, we saw many little 
 plants that we had known in childhood. Wood blossoms gleamed in 
 the openings our feet made ; and in the soundings, through vege- 
 table deposits, of our depths in leaf mould and height over true 
 soil, we saw some lovely forms, recognised as natives also of other 
 lands, and seen before in far diiferent circumstances. The Alpine 
 plants of the colder temperate zone and sub-arctic growth were 
 about our path abundantly, and it was pleasant to find them thriv- 
 ing and surviving in the rigours of a clime that must soon be borne 
 by that all-enduring being, man. 
 
 " Dog-rose pie is very good. Is there anything to eat in rhodo- 
 dendrons ?" inquired Dufl*, eagerly. 
 
 " Can't say : there's no knowing what our cook may got out of 
 them ; let us try him." We set to work, and buds as large as the 
 biggest cauliflower in Covent Garden market were piled up. Vale- 
 rian is not an agreeable potherb, but it is a very useful medicine, 
 so I gathered a heap of it ; and altogether we had a collection that 
 would have loaded a costermonger's cart, though probably it would 
 have tempted veiy few customers to forsake Brussels sprouts and 
 curled greens. 
 
 Leaving our prizes to await our return, we proceeded on our walk. 
 
 i; 
 
In 
 
 
 h 
 
 K ^ 
 
 
 l>:^ 
 
 1.1 
 
 '' ; I 
 
 254 
 
 REMARKABLE AUVI^NTITRKS. 
 
 nnd rertclu'd ft jKmit wlioro tho p^aro and beauty of the birclics 
 c'laimod spoeial n^p^ard ; a profusion of larrrheH, willows, and nzal(\'is 
 adornod tho skirt of tlio wood, but no tribo of shnibs claimod our 
 att(^ntion so much as tlio spiral, dartinj^, sky-aspirinp^ biroh. Ft 
 thrust its slender steins before us evorywlier(», and yet it rose to an 
 altitude quite surpassing nny estimate I had over fonncd of iU 
 pretensions. 
 
 AH this time wc could see our floating homo, whenever we lookod 
 back; but, as wo warmed to our exercise, and fell to admiriuii- 
 ])ljnits, shrubs, and trees, we gave over retrospection, and pn^sst d 
 i'orward. 
 
 Our stomachs told dinner hour, and Duflf thought of unpacking 
 his knapsack. 1 was so busy examining tho trees, that the mo- 
 nitions of my appetite were in danger of being disregarded; 
 and as I thought of splendid specimens of Pinus larix, P. ccmbrn, 
 l\ abies, and various and sundry other wonders of coniferous 
 growth, he babbled of "firewood," and condemned the whole 
 plantation, as not comparable, in fuelish qualities, to the package 
 of charcoal he had brought in his portable stove. 
 
 The most advanced pioieer in the march of discovery does not 
 get out of the rank of the appliances of modern science. We sat 
 down to a snug little dinner. We had very accurately apportionetl 
 our provisions to our wants ; there remained no fragments ; and 
 this was a source of regret, as we were anxious to cultivate tlic 
 acquaintance of monkey- like squirrels, of species unknown to us, 
 that were coming about us in rather immerous variety. Squirrels, 
 martens, and foxes were very plentiful in the neighbourhood, and 
 the presence of a few bears might be suspected. 
 
 The overhanging branches teemed with life. Little ugly 
 animals, like rats, were running up and down, and over and across, 
 and their movements were very exciting; one could not help 
 expecting them to mistake a person for a tree : but this did not 
 
■MY ADVKNTUKK IX A IMNK WOOD. 
 
 
 Imppon ; and, to our anrpriso, tlioy did not nin up our ]v^h or dai't 
 over our Hhouldrrs. Tho 8quirrols wens Injjfhly jirniisiiiL:", l(•HpiIl,L^ 
 und cliinl)iii;r, (Uid cxliibitinp^ tlioir rpu'or sliupos and rii:;nn'S. TIiin 
 opcnpiod, wo scarcely noticed that tlio cvcninjj; ^v;l • closing, 
 although it was time to think of rcturninj^ to our shi[). 
 
 Dull' had undertaken to mark trcMS as wo camo on, and I hiid 
 left it to him to do, occupying my mind entirely in ol)s(;rvati(ii). 
 "Jo him, therefore, fell tho duty of finding tho way home; and, to 
 my consternation and his own, ho professed utter incompetence to 
 perform it. Wo were bad backwoodsmen, could not follow our 
 own trail, nor hold on to the least clue to help us to retrace onr 
 path. 
 
 Both of us had forgotten our pocket compaases; and wc Icll 
 truly disconsolate, as wo withdrew our respective hands from a vain 
 search for them in their usual places. 
 
 The spot where we stood was closely embowered in jtiiir 
 boughs. Between tho interlaced tracery of the inniuncniltlc 
 branches camo glimpses of fading light, and obscurity enveloped 
 our minds and persons. Neither of us could tell, for the life of us, 
 from which point wo had entered the seclusion, and what opening 
 we should take to get out of it. 
 
 " Wo came in by those trees with the rusty arms sticking out 
 there," was Duff's opinion, while I was as positive that those faced 
 me as I arrived through an opposite aperture. 
 
 Our contradiction was strangely amicable ; we were each so 
 anxious to prove the other right, that we accepted any evidence as 
 better than our own memory, and, to arrive at certainty, pursued 
 every investigation suggested by any idea that crossed either of 
 our minds. 
 
 Round every tree we sought for " our mark ;" and, so con- 
 fusingly similar were the whole lot, that we found it impossible to 
 decide where our labour begun or ended. 
 
 it 
 
 :;f 
 
25() 
 
 UEMAEKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 5i ' 
 
 j;.^ 
 
 
 1: 
 
 m, : 
 
 111 tin's state of perplexity we adopted every expedient to rais^ 
 a Inimau sound above the din of vocalization that in(,Teased as 
 darkness thickened. Wo called, shouted, liallooed, roared, 
 screamedj bawled, yelled, and produced oral effects that would 
 have terrified every rational hearer. Though, at the time, they 
 seemed only ordinary efforts of nature to obtain the help of fellow 
 creatures, the memory of tliem is yet lingering somewhere in th.' 
 ear ; and, whenever I recall it, ray teeth are set on edge at the 
 thought of the sound. 
 
 The I'oliage over us grew horribly dense. It was shutting down 
 lik(^ a close cover. We felt at the bottom of a depth. An id<»ii 
 arose that we might reach the snrfoce by using our mast-heading 
 [towers, and, going up a tree, to try to look a-head. I was the tirst 
 to mount, and the climbing was unparalleled in my experience, ,i- 
 boy or man. 
 
 Shoving my shoulders through a tangled web of pines, I got a 
 view of the world, in thai locality, as it lay under the strangr- 
 looking heavens that encircle the northern parts of our earth. 
 The sky over our happy England is a very different thing from the 
 expanse that met my gaze as I ?merged from my leafy bath. Bui 
 it was not above there I was seeking for li^Ip ; it was for anythiUgC 
 that I could find beneath it to rest my hopes of home on, tliat 1 
 eagerly used my straining vision. 
 
 About me on every side, far as eye could reacli, stretched a vast, 
 dull, unbrokrn, monotonous, slightly undulating, but immcvubly 
 still, region ( )f thick wood ! A world of trees ! No sea ! No 
 .shi]) ! No hope ! 
 
 I came do»vn by m) gravity, figuratively and literally. I forget 
 the particulars of my descent, though my person and clothing 
 retained the inarks thereof for some time ; but the remembmnce 
 of the heavy heart whieL* sank me to z^^ro, will never leave me. i 
 stood agMin beside my poor companion. A^'aiu we }»HUHed, and. 
 
MV ADVENTPKE IN A PINE WOOD. 
 
 
 ed as 
 mrod. 
 would 
 
 follow 
 ill til.' 
 at the 
 
 ; dowu 
 \\ id«';i 
 euding 
 be iivst 
 
 got a 
 vaiigf- 
 
 eartli. 
 
 lorn tii*^- 
 
 Bui 
 
 vtliiiig 
 
 that 1 
 
 a vast, 
 ^vubly 
 
 forget 
 Lothing 
 Ibrance 
 
 we. 
 
 uftor silent meditiition, it seemed that we both arrived at tlie same 
 e(»nclusiou, in the same lengtli of twae; and the same words bni*8t 
 simultaneously from botli o\u- lips. 
 
 " We re done for !" was our spoken sentiment at last ; and we 
 then confessed that, from the moment that we discovered our error 
 alxmt the tree marks, we had been under that impression. 
 
 We were not single men. I believe that, at that moment, we 
 sltottld have been happier if we had. It was of our wives and littki 
 ones we tliought, as our doom davmed on us, and about them we 
 /groaned, as the fate we dreaded seemed sealed against us. 
 
 We se|iarated, '.nstinctively, tacitly. 
 
 I withdrew round a tree trunk, and, leanhig my head against its 
 well clothed side, felt my brain swim, and an indescribable sensation 
 come over me. I felt as if I must cr)\ No consciousness of how I 
 vented my emotions remains with me. Never since, or before, has 
 such a commotion occurred in mv soul, or disturbed the functions 
 of my mortal frame, i have been in the heat of action, without 
 frvv'-rvinj:^ a nerve. I have sailed in storms that threatened awful 
 dtivth; but the placid misery of that moment is unitjue in my life, 
 and I tru«t that the gloomy shadow that heralds the coming of the 
 king of teri'ors will nev*n' again l)riug me sueh horror. My present 
 
 trouble was soon lost in thoughts of liome, and of eternity 
 
 (Trathiallv, unc(Mwio<Lriu -t intervener!. 
 
 The l<-ud boom of a gum ranj^ the leafy canopy of otu* living 
 tomb. 1 awoke and stood upon my feet. Where? Tlow? 
 What? 
 
 Everv demonstration that liad or had not s^'uso in it, came 
 milling from the two pair frf" lifis that lately were so sperehless. 
 We embrafed ca'-h other viol^ttly. and were for soine miiiutr.s as 
 inmnipetent from joy as we liad U*eii irom fear. 
 
 Anotlier jrun ! — and vet another: and oil, iiow close! At « 
 
 »ur 
 
 
 i 
 
 II 
 
 ii'H 
 
 and, ■ right side, undoubtedly! Manfully we dashed tiiro igh the thicket, 
 
2r.<s 
 
 T^KMAllK A T) 1 , E A 1 )VENTTTr.ER. 
 
 I' 
 
 
 and a few powerful pushes got us out of it ; and there we saw out- 
 own old brine, offering a friendlier home than the earth we had 
 coveted so earnestly. 
 
 About a mile to westward sat our smiling vessel, waving us to 
 a warm shelter, with the tongue by which she tells her will to the 
 enemy, her want to the friend, and declares her respect for her 
 ruler. 
 
 It was quickly perceptible that my mast-head experience was 
 defective. I had blundered egregiously in taking my bearings 
 from the tree top. The inlet was a hollow, and I had forgotten to 
 estimate it as a sunk fence in the landscape. There it was, under 
 our lee, near enough to reach in half an hour, even with all our 
 impediments. 
 
 Duff and I, in silent concord, cast a veil over the whole circum- 
 stance. We did not even speak of it to each other ; and from that 
 day to this I have never told the sufferings of our adventure in the 
 pine wood to even my most intimate friend. 
 
 I 
 
 iff 
 
 REMINISCENCES OF THE YELLOW FEVER AT 
 
 CARTHAGENA. 
 
 About the middle of the peninsular war, I obtained a commission 
 iu the military service of his majesty King George iii., and was 
 ordered to join the army under the command of Lord Wellington. 
 It was a bright and exciting event for a youth of my temperament 
 to find himself in that land of chivalry and romance — sunny Spain. 
 Without dwelling on my sojourn in the delightful city of Cadiz, 
 >vhere I disembarked, suffice it to say that I was at length detached 
 
 It 
 
THE YELLOW FEVER AT rAT^THAGEXA. 
 
 250 
 
 to Cartliagena, the once eminent seaport and naval arsenal on the 
 coast of Murcia, in the Mediterranean. 
 
 At the period to which this narrative refers, there was an 
 Enf^lish garrison at Carthagena, the presence of which infused a 
 little fresh life into a city formerly so celebrated for its safe and 
 spacious harbour, gi-and arsenal, strong fortifications, beautiful 
 edifices, and busy, prosperous population. Now, however, it was 
 gloomy, and comparatively deserted. In the magnificent basin of 
 tlie arsenal, formerly crowded with noble men-of-war, there was 
 not a single ship ; the capacious warehouses for naval stores were 
 empty ; grass was growing in the principal streets of tlio city ; and 
 the population, which in bygone times consisted chiefly of public! 
 functionaries connected with the dockyard, and the numerous 
 artisans and people of all grades employed therein, together with a 
 large number of merchants, tradesmen, and so forth, was reduced 
 to a few remnants of tlie varioiiS grades and tlieir families. T\u^ 
 total destruction of the Spanish navy at the battle of Trafalgar, was 
 a death-blow to the prosperity of Carthagena. 
 
 The arrival of a British force of about a thousand men was 
 liailed with delight by the half-famished inhabitants. The supjilies 
 needed for the English garrison were extensive ; our officers spent 
 their money freely, and the gloomy city soon began to wear a 
 brighter aspect. The few families of any standing wlio still 
 remained, threw their doors open to receive our ofllcers at their 
 tertulias, or conversaciones, which do not entail any expense on the 
 part of the hosts ; and when the extent of the general privations 
 became gradually known, measures were taken by command of 
 the gallant general in command of the British forces, for giving 
 relief in a way that could not wound the most sensitive minds. In 
 this he was zealously seconded by the officers. 
 
 The English soon became especial favourites at Carthagena. 
 The coffee houses and public promenades wer«> well frequented ; 
 
 
 :^1 
 
 ;!! 
 
 i i] 
 
 'V 
 
2fi0 
 
 REMARKABLK ADVENTURES. 
 
 
 m 
 
 III ■ 
 
 ii' 
 
 1- 
 
 
 ill 
 
 i 
 
 m ■ 
 
 
 inirtics wcro urrungcd to visit pic1m'f'S(|no spots, citlior at llio foot 
 of the inoimtuins in the vicinity, or in little sandy coves on the 
 borders of the beauteous Mediterranean Sea. Sheltered from tlie 
 seorching sun in cool grottoes, the chatty gi-oups partook of the 
 provisions they had brought with them, and returned in the calm 
 refreshing evenings to the city ; the ladies in small vehicles call(?d 
 iartanaa, gaily painted, and covered with awnings of pure white 
 <iinvas, adorned with borders and tassels of bright colours ; while 
 the gentlemen rode on horseback. How joyously we caracolled by 
 the side of the tartanas^ drawn by spirited handsome mules, 
 excited by their jingling collar-bells, and filled with seiioritas, 
 accompanied by their parents or elderly relatives ! How coquet- 
 tishly the fans were shaken at us ! And what a number of silly 
 things we youngsters must have said and done ! But life is a 
 chequered scene ; and we were soon to receive a solemn lesson of 
 its uncertainties, and of the wisdom of being prepared in its 
 brightest seasons for contact with the realities of another world. 
 
 In the midst of this delightful state of things, rumours arose 
 that some cases of the epidemia — the yellow fever — had occurred 
 in the city. We, the English, paid but little attention to these 
 reports. Not so the Spaniards, however. The recollection of the 
 frightful scourge, which was emphatically termed " the great 
 epidemia," a few yeai-s previously, was too vivid not to occasion the 
 utmost alarm at the bare probability of its return ; so that, in 
 spite of every effort to conceal it, incipient panic was visible in 
 almost every countenance. 
 
 Neither at that, or any other period of my life, have I had the 
 slightest dread of infection or disease of any kind ; and I did all I 
 could to rally ray Spanisii friends out of their very natural appre- 
 hensions. At length, however, the hideous pest broke out with 
 the utmost fury, carrying off daily large numbers of every class. 
 All who could leave the place did so immediately ; but those formed 
 
 1)1 
 
 •!■:,, i 
 
 V^_ 
 
TIIK YELLOW FEVEU AT CAUTHAOENA. 
 
 L>()1 
 
 a very small portion iiulencl of the helploss inlitibitants. Tli«> 
 British troops were (iW marclicd oat of the eity, uiul lunited titlicr 
 in the two commanding forts of Atalaya and Galeras, luiilt on tw(» 
 lofty rocks commanding the liarbonr, or cantoned in miseralih,' 
 villages at some distance from the city walls. 
 
 Cicneral Koss, our gallant commander, soon fell a victim to lils 
 untiring efforts to secure the health of the English troops. I was 
 quartered, with a brother oflicer, in a diI:^;-idattMl liut in a li.ill- 
 ruined hamlet, near the foot of one of the rocky eminences just 
 mentioned, and w(5 made ourselves as ha])py as we could. Strict 
 orders were given that neither officers nor men should enter thi^ 
 infected city ; but I confess that more than once I nninaged to 
 elude this regulation. 
 
 Never shall I forget the deadly aspect of the silent and nearly 
 deserted streets. Almost all the shops were closed ; and ever and 
 anon I came opposite a house with the words ** Aqui hay con- 
 tagio " — " There is contagion here " — chalked on the closed street- 
 door in largo characters ; and wan-looking men were to be seen 
 creeping noiselessly along, carrying rude coffins or boxes, con- 
 taining corpses, to be deposited in carts sfcitioned at certain points 
 for the conveyance of the dead to the cemetery, about a mile from 
 the city. 
 
 After a time, my duties required that I should remove to a sort 
 of hut — a goatherd's, I think, it must have formerly been — on th(! 
 slope of a rugged hill, looking down upon the port. It consisted 
 only of four plank walls, a crazy door, and oue small ungla/(Hl 
 window ; the roof was slanting, also formed of planks. Before 
 going there I had felt not quite myself, as to healthy sensiitions, 
 but I thought little or nothing about it. Soon, however, 1 was 
 severely attacked by the epidt^mia. The British medical officers 
 attached to the hospital ship in the harbour paid me every attention 
 in their [)ower, almost worn out as they were by the incessant calls 
 
 •V > 
 
262 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 H';! 
 
 li 
 
 I 
 
 '■;fA 
 
 .'J 
 
 #;■! 
 
 i 
 
 k1 
 
 it- - 
 
 upon their time and skill. I hud a Portuguese servant, who had 
 been with me some time. I do not think ho hud a hard master. 
 He was a man of about thirty ; swarthy, but good-lookuig enough, 
 having a bushy head of hair, and immense wliiskcrs, both quite 
 black. My bed consisted of a can\ us palliasse, stuffed with chopped 
 straw, and a bolster of the same materials. The bedstead was a 
 cot frame, standing upon four short legs. Tliere was no flooring to 
 the hut — the bare earth only ; imd very glad I was to get such 
 quarters, quite good enough for any soldier, from a general to a 
 drummer. 
 
 Well, I was very ill, though quite sensible, thi'oughout the 
 raging fever. I had an impression that I should not recover from 
 the attack. One afternoon, when I was at the worst, my servant, who 
 — no doubt fearing the contagion — had kept as much aloof froni 
 me as he could all the morning, vanished by the crazy door, and 
 did not return for many hours. I was fea TuUy weak, and soon a 
 deadly sickness came on — that vomito negro, or black vomit, which 
 is considered to be, almost invariably, a fatal symptom. I con- 
 trived, with gi'eat diflSculty, to get my head to the edge of the 
 palliasse, but my face fell upon the dusty floor. I had no streiigtli 
 to raise myself. I thought I was dying, and I wished I could bend 
 a loving message to my dear mother in England. I felt indigiuiut 
 at the conduct of my servant, of whom I had taken every care; 
 when he had been ill not long before, in deserting me at so critical 
 a moment : and I think this indignant feeling, under rro> idencc, 
 saved my life. It stimulated me, when, under other circum- 
 stances, I should have quietly sunk to death. That is the ordinary 
 characteristic of the last moments of those who are seized with this 
 ilire malady. 
 
 Wliilst in this state, I heard the frail door creak. Slowly, 
 slowly, it cjpened ; and, at last, the large hairy head of my servant 
 protruded through tliu aperture; the great black eyes [)eering 
 
THE YKLLOW FEVER AT CAETHAHENA. 
 
 2C>o 
 
 iiiquLsitively ubout the place. No doubt ho thought I must bo 
 dead, aud came to see what spoil ho could get. I managed to 
 make a beckoning motion ; the creature advanced, and I bade 
 him, in a feeble voice, to lift mo up and lay me upon the palliasse. 
 Then I got him to wash my lips and face, covered with saturated 
 dust, after which I fell into a doze. How long it lasted I cannot 
 say ; but, on awaking, all I felt was extreme helplessness : no 
 pain — no nausea. 
 
 Daily, but very slowly, I gained some strength, and I was even- 
 tually removed to the small village of Santa Lucia, on the edge ol" 
 a little bay, or inlet at the foot of the harbour. I had a room on 
 the ground floor of a small dwelling adjoining the road, leading, 
 amongst other places, to the public cemetery. My window was 
 protected by iron bars, as is the custom in Spain ; and as soon as I 
 could crawl about, I passed a good part of each day there, inhaling 
 the invigomting sea air. The heat was intense. Few persons 
 passed along the silent road. There was, however, one vehicle 
 which regularly went to and fro twice a day — the dead-cart. It 
 was drawn by a lean, sorry horse ; and the driver was a sallow, 
 unwholesome looking man, who always sat on one of the shafts, 
 very often eating bread and garhc, as he drove slowly along 
 towards the cemetery. The cart was a covered one, but tlio sid^.s 
 wore formed of railings, through which the dead bodies, liciij)ed 
 upon each other, could be partially seen. Of course I tiied !(> 
 avoid being at the window when the cart jwissed by; but as it cam*! 
 at irregular hours, and by a turn in the road close by, the bickeii- 
 ing sight sometimes came upon me unawares. 
 
 One day I witnessed a very curious scene from my baiTed 
 window. It was a funeral procession. No doubt the defunct hud 
 been a person of some note, to be thus carried, alone, to his last 
 earthly liouic. There was a lioman Catholic priest in his vest- 
 ments, and a little boy shaking a KUiall tinkling btil from timo to 
 
 "M 
 
w\ 
 
 IIEMAIIKAIJLE ADYKNTURES. 
 
 pi 
 
 
 I: .; 
 
 ;j 
 
 li 
 
 .1/ 
 
 i; i 
 
 ! 
 ( , 
 
 tiino. 'rhcm canio tin* rofTiii, carried on men's should(Ms ; tlie pro- 
 cf'ssion I)oing closed by six poor misuiablc men, clad in worn brown 
 cloth cloaks. Each man carried a lonj^, thick, lighted wax torch ; 
 Mild as th(^ hv<t passed near my window, ho suddenly turned his 
 back to the others, drew forth from under his cloak a large clasp- 
 knife, with which ho cut off about half a foot of the thick waxen 
 torch, put it and the knife in his ix)cket; and then, holding the 
 torch by the inside of his cloak, so as to render its curtailment im- 
 ])erceptible, he turned round again and gravely took his place as 
 the last in the procession. All this was done in a few seconds. 
 His roguery, ill-timed as it was, caused me at the moment to laugh 
 heartily, which, no doubt, did me a world of good. 
 
 The last trick Antonio, my servant, played me, was to nearly 
 starve my horse to death. I bought him, before I became ill, of a 
 German officer, who had deserted from the French army, com- 
 manded by Marshal Soult. Siich a horse ! He was full sixteen 
 hands high, had a grand head and neck, but a most extraordinarily 
 hollow back. His forelegs were very good, but the hind ones 
 unusually short — cow-like. His gait was therefore very singular. 
 T, of course, often asked Antonio if he drew the forage ration, 
 regularly fed, groomed, and took care of the horse, and how he was 
 giving on ; to all of which questions he answered satisfactorily. 
 When I felt strong enough to walk out, I ordered him to bring the 
 horse to the door for my inspection. The stable was a good way 
 oft". After a long delay he appeared, leading a quadruped whose 
 (jenns it would have puzzled the savans of the Zoological Gardens 
 to decide upon. It looked to me something between a giraffe and 
 a bear. It was covered with long matted hair, had a profuse dusty 
 main and tail, and was rather dragged than led along, so weak and 
 exhausted it was. 
 
 •MVliat'sthis?" cried! 
 
 *• El cabiillo, sefior — the horse, sir." 
 
 Mi ' 
 
A NKJHT IN TASMANIA. 
 
 205 
 
 pro 
 rown 
 Tcli ; 
 d his 
 lasp- 
 axeii 
 g i]w 
 t ini- 
 ce as 
 •onds. 
 laugh 
 
 learly 
 i, of a 
 , com- 
 ixteeu 
 narily 
 ones 
 gular. 
 ration, 
 lewas 
 )rily. 
 ig the 
 way 
 rhose 
 jtrdens 
 le and 
 Idusty 
 Ik and 
 
 «. .--^ 
 
 ''Jaballo 1" said I. 
 
 i^i, senor — your liorse." 
 
 Tho poor animal tunied its languid oyes towards me, as much as 
 to say, " You don't know me, master, but I do you. Do give mo 
 something to eat." 
 
 I at once saw how matters stood. Antonio had drawn tlio 
 forage, and had sold tho greater portion for his own benefit ; more- 
 over, he had never groomed the poor animal, whose coat had grown 
 till, as I said before, it looked more like that of u bear, or a Hhaggy 
 dog. The dishonesty and cnielty of the man disgusted me, and 1 
 threatened to hand him over to tho provost marshal for severe 
 punishment. I instantly made him feed the horse, and afterwards 
 groom him before my own eyes, and ordered him to do so daily. 
 When the poor animal had had a moderate feed, and a due com- 
 plement of fresh water, and tho currycomb had been properly 
 used, ho turned his head towards me again, as though he would 
 have said, " Thank you, master : I shall soon be able to cany you 
 cheerily." 
 
 At length the fearful malady wore itself out ; and, ere long, I 
 returned to Cadiz for tho benefit of my health, which soon became 
 quite re-established. 
 
 M 
 
 A NIGHT IN TASMiVNIA. 
 
 Almost immediately under our feet, on the other side of the world, 
 and only separated from the great continent of New Holland by a 
 narrow strait, is a British settlement, that, with many claims to the 
 attention of Englishmen, has hitherto excited but little of it, and 
 which appears to be now entirely lost in tho ruddy gleam of gold 
 that, with increasing brightness, shines from its sister coloni'is. 
 
 k2 
 
 ;'.n 
 
2(j(; 
 
 ItEMAUKAULE A DVLNTUUEK. 
 
 1 
 
 I,) 
 
 t ^ i 
 
 Van Diemeii'H IjuiuI, or, to ^'ivo tho island its nofter iind more 
 modern mim<^, Tasnuiniii, is the most southern land inhabited by 
 JOnnjpeans. From Tasman's Head to the Antarctic Polo stretches 
 a <lrOary waste of ocean, in which adventurous voyagers have vainly 
 sought for habitable land ; finding only volcanic islands bedded in 
 enormous ice-fields, their open craters rising in bleak sterility above 
 the green continents of frozen water, tind belching forth even here 
 great masses of red-hot scoria}, streams of molten lava, columns of 
 lurid flame, and clouds of black and heavy smoke. Sir James 
 Iloss describes the scene presented by this strange region of con- 
 trasted frost and fire au unequalled in its rugged desolation, and 
 surpassing all conception in its gloomy grandeur and its terrible 
 sublimity. 
 
 ]jut Tasmania, the voyager's last resting place before encounter- 
 ing theso terrific solitudes, has little in common with them in 
 scenery and appearance. The first view of the island is, indeed, 
 unprepossessing, for its cliffs are high n 1 rugged, and along its 
 coasts are scattered numerous small islets, barren rocks rising in 
 fantastic shapes from the green sea that boils around them, climbing 
 theii' dark pinnacles in lines of snowy foam and glittering spray, 
 lint a nearer view dispels the idea of sterility, and conveys to the 
 approaching stranger a more trutliful notion of the fertile land that 
 spreads in graceful undulations from the sea. As his vessel sails 
 across Storm Bay, and, leaving the lofty lighthouse on Brune 
 Island to the right, enters D'Entrecasteaux Channel, passmg the 
 i'atal Acteon rocks, a succession of magnificent scenery opens befor<3 
 him. On either hand rises a range of hills, clothed to the waters 
 cdii(^ with noble trees; tho shady foliage hiding the land, and 
 spreading over every ridge, crowning the loftiest summits with its 
 dark verdure. Rccherclie Bay, South Port, l*ort Esperance, and 
 other minor harbours, form deep indentations on tlie wistern ahfjrc, 
 and pierce the hills in long vistas of surpas^sing beauty, disclosing 
 
A NKJHT IN TAHMANIA. 
 
 *267 
 
 more 
 i by 
 tclies 
 aiiily 
 3d iu 
 ibove 
 L here 
 ms of 
 Fames 
 [ cou- 
 u, and 
 jrriblo 
 
 ►unter- 
 em in 
 indeed, 
 )ng its 
 iing in 
 junbing 
 spray, 
 to the 
 d tbat 
 1 sails 
 Brune 
 luig the 
 before 
 water's 
 d, and 
 Ml its 
 ce, and 
 
 closing 
 
 in tl)(» distance' otlicr fiors of wood-crowned eminences, stretrhing 
 away in wavy lines tliat end abruptly in Koin<^ l«»fty snow-ca])p<»d 
 mountain, or stooj) with gentUj declination to some inlan<l ]»lain. 
 The lonjr island r»f Hrune forms tin* riu:ht bank of the channel, 
 commencing at its entranc<^ in a bold In.'adland, that rises pn-- 
 cipitously from the occsan, and continuing in a chain of hills that 
 sinks and coiitra<'ts to a Hat and narrow isthmus in the middle of 
 the i>Ian(l, but apju^ars again as we approach its northern ex- 
 tremity. Alons; its edi'e lie several snniU jn'cen islets, eacdi oiK^thi^ 
 property of some lonely farmer; and on the main island cleared 
 farms appear at intervals, and flocks of sheej) and lields of waving 
 corn give evidence of settlements and proofs of human toil. 
 
 Turning again to the left, then; aj^pears a wid<j bay forming th<! 
 mouth of the river Huon, on the banks of which are several farms, 
 though this part of the country is not thickly settled, the; land 
 being covered with heavy timber. At the entrance of the lluon is 
 a singularly }»erforated rock, called Arch Island, standing like a 
 solitary bridge, through which the waters race incessantly; its 
 sunnnit is covered with flocks of scrciming gulls and solemn 
 penguins ; whilst high above it soars the pelican, stooping occasion- 
 ally from his circling flight, and dropping with unerrhig aim upon 
 th<^ nnsuspecting fish beneath him. A little higher, after ])assing 
 Three-hut-pomt, the channel narrows, and a line of buoys marks 
 the existence of some hidden reef or sand-bank. Above the 
 entrance of Ijong 13ay, which stretches away to the right, lies 
 Crreen Island, a little spot presented to a woman by the goveiii- 
 ment, as a reward for her heroic conduct in defendhig th(3 hut 
 which she occupied upon it against the attack of a gang of armed 
 bushrangers. Nearly opposite to it is Oyster Cove, lately the )•( si- 
 dence of the remnant of the aboriginal inhabitants of Ta.sjii;inia, 
 once the fiercest and most warlik'; tribe of the south. 
 
 Their continual aggressions on the settlers, the terrible outrages 
 
 M« 
 
268 
 
 IIEMAIIKADLK ADVENTURES. 
 
 
 ;•(■■:< 
 
 m 
 
 !li 
 
 ill 
 
 
 11 
 
 committed by them, and tbo equally savage retaliations of the 
 wiiitos, induced Sir George Arthur, at that tim(« goveni(n* of tlio 
 crolony, to attempt the capture of the whole nation. 'Hia extra- 
 ordinary talent and ability displayed by that gentleman in the 
 general administration of his government has not sheltered him 
 from the ridicule incurred by this impracticable scheme. Jle pro- 
 jx)sed to extend a line of men across the north end of the island, 
 and, marching them towards the south, gradually drive the natives 
 into a corner, where they might bo surrounded and eventually 
 made prisoners. Every man in tlio colony was calh^l out, even 
 including the convicts ; and the force thus raised was divided into 
 companies of ten, with a captain to each. Great preparations were 
 made, and immense expense incurred; every precaution, indeed, 
 was taken that the military experience of the governor and the 
 many old officers in the colony could suggest, to ensure the success 
 of the expedition. The settlers began to congratulate themselves 
 on the probability of their getting rid of their vindictive and much- 
 dreaded neighbours, and willingly offered their services to the 
 government. But the mountain brought forth a mouse. After a 
 month's marching through the bush, in an almost impassable 
 countiy, over the tops of mountains, across risers and deep gulleys, 
 through forests rendered impervious by thick tangled undergrowth 
 and matted jungie, the line of valorous heroes closed in upon the 
 enemy, and discovered^ to fheir astonishment and dismay, that they 
 had succeeded in capturing and taking prisoner — one poor black 
 fellow 1 The cunning of the savage had fairly outwitted the wisdom 
 of the white man ; and " Were you out in the line ?" is still a 
 standing joke against an old settler. 
 
 But that which the united force of the whole colony was unable 
 to effect, one man successfully accomplished. A gentleman who 
 was familiar with the habits and language of the natives of Tjis- 
 mania volunteered to effect^ unaided^ the peaceable capture of 
 
A XIOHT TN T ARMANI A. 
 
 269 
 
 e\ery native in tho (Milony. Ills oftbr was c^agorly accopt<*tl by tho 
 {i;()voruniont, and li(» immediately eomnn'nccd his mission. H(» 
 Hoon snccoeded in porsnading a jmrty of the Maek fellows to aecom- 
 j)any liim to town, where they were lodged for safe custody in gaol ; 
 and the number of prisoners was increased by every fresh expe- 
 dition of the same individual, until the country was thoroughly 
 cleared of its ancient occupants. An isolated building at the top 
 of Elizabeth-street, in Hobart Town, was at first appropriated to 
 their use, and hero for a short time they wovo carefully guarded ; 
 but it was found necessary to remove them from the neighbourhood 
 of the town, and they were ultimately conveyed toFlinder's Island, 
 in Bass Straits, where a regular establishment was formed for their 
 accommodation. 
 
 The poor children of th(> forest, though they pined at first in 
 their island prison for that pcn'fect freedom which in their own wild 
 hills they had enjoyed, soon became accustomed to their position, 
 and gradually adopted the costume and the habits of their warders, 
 though still retaining many of their old barbarous customs. 
 Happily, the island abounded in the game which they had been 
 used to pursue in their own country, and this in some measure con- 
 soled them for their exile ; and no doubt the opportunity of obtain- 
 ing food without exertion would bo in (^xaet accordance with their 
 taste for indolence. But their numbers rapidly decreased, and at 
 length became so small, that it was thought unnecessary to keep up 
 the expensive establishment on Flinder's Island ; and the remnant 
 of the tribe was removed to Oyster Cove. 
 
 A few more years will witness the extinction of the race, and 
 then another, though a nameless nation, may be added to the long 
 list of those that have been swept away by tliat gr(\it human wave, 
 which, rising in one little island, has pom'cd across earth's ocean 
 barriers, bearing on its crest the ripened fruits of centuries of toil 
 and thought ; prolific seeds, from which have spnmg new saplings 
 
 i' ,'H 
 
 ii 
 
270 
 
 IIKMAinvATirE AHVEXTVIIKS. 
 
 I 
 
 i i> ■ 
 
 m ■ i 
 
 I 
 
 t 
 
 striking' llicir <'lini.;inL!: ronts i\o('\) in tlio viri-in soil, und lilliiin; 
 llu'ir inajt'slic Ijcads towards hcuNrii; wliilst tlicir \vi({<( l)raneli<'K 
 spiviul iicrrjfc.s whole continciifs, and drop in distant isUiuds now and 
 living' frnit, tlio L^orms of t'uturo and sdil groitcr nations. 
 
 lUit our ship is pt\ssin^ rapidly up th<^ narrow (dumnel, opening 
 out on cither side now bays and ])r<'tty inlets. Crossing the r.ioath 
 of North-west Bay, we [)as8 IxMieath 3loui i liOAvis, a hij>[li fill, on 
 whieh is a somajfhore, one of a lino of t(deti:ra))hs erected between 
 lloljart Town and J V>rt Arthur, and wijieh luis alrea<iy signalled 
 to town notiee of our arrival. AVe now round tlie norilKTii extre- 
 niity of Ihinn'^ Island, and enter Ihe noble river Derwent, or r.ither 
 the ai'ui of till' 8ca into whieh the Derwent falls at llobart Town. 
 In a f( w minutes w(! obfaiin the first view of tlic town, and a seeno 
 of <'\ti'aordinary beauty spreads before us. TIu? contracted ehan- 
 nr] appeurs to expand into a magnificent lake, the narrow otitlet 
 i'losin!>' Ixihind us, aiid the wid(>r entranep bv Storm liav hidden for 
 a niontent by the intervening land. (Mose to us, stafting abruptly 
 lr<nu the shore, is a range of low liills, thickly wooded, gmdually 
 increasing in height as it exten<ls inland, until, rising to th»' top of 
 Aloinit ?s'''lson, tlie chain links the great admiral's Tiamesako to a 
 huge iVouhirg njoijntain, bearing tin? no]>le luune of Wellington. 
 Appiirently at tin* foot of .Blount Wollingioit, though in reality 
 four miles (Vom it, stuids the rai)ital of the island, )>uilt on gently 
 ri-iing grouuil, at the head of a bi'autifnl inlet of the river — Sulli- 
 \an's (.'ovj'. '.l'h(r U])per part of the town seems to cn'cp into the 
 forest, and to meh' away among the trtes; the hill on which it 
 stiuids still rising above the houses, imtil it mingles with the dis- 
 tant ranges that sweep in niajestie eurv<'s from the crest of the 
 towering mountain. Pretty villas are seen nestling timong the 
 trees; and occasional gaps jji tht^ thick timl)er diselose green 
 fields, ridieviniir with their verdure the darker hu(>s of the 8oml>ro 
 forest. 
 
 
 
A NIGHT IN TARMAN'fA. 
 
 271 
 
 U't 
 
 lu iho cove ar<-> many filii[)s at aiu'lior, aiul alon^'sidc xU^ wliarfs 
 otln.Ts arc <lis<*li;ir<^iji;4; <»>' rcccivin;^ ••ar<^^(». On a Mmall ^rccn «Mni- 
 McJK-e at the extremity of a point of land tliaf strctclus troni the 
 town towards the ma is the hattcry ; and i'nnn licnco a lino of hirp^o 
 warohouses skirts i.ho wharf, joined at ri<j^ht anj^k'S by a range of 
 K>fty ston(?-fro»itod bnildinji^H, facing (h"ro(;tIy down iUo riv*'r, and 
 <*onstituting the custoni-lioiiHe, ))08t-<)flice, <tc. To the right ol' 
 tiu'jsc, on a small hill, the slope of wliich has hccii ciit away to form 
 a wharf, stands th ^ gov«u*nor'f< lionse, hiddeji by a profu>i(Mi of trees 
 and shriibs. IJent-atii are th*' comniisfiiuiat ^>res ?^ud other bnild- 
 higK, and beyond them the government domain terminators abrnpily 
 in a l)aro gni^sy point, pas*^^ wliich the river, iiarrmveil Uj half it»» 
 previouH width, iiows genti) on. From hence; the eye, restijig for 
 a moment ou Mount Direction, a very singular and precipitous hill, 
 seen in tlie <listiince, looks again on new ranges of hills, rising 
 above each other in tieis, all <()veretl by the sauK* evergn-eii 
 mantle, or sweeping to tlu> sea in deep cultivated valley", that end 
 in pretty bays enilm)id«'red round by narrow strips of ])cbbly b« acli. 
 
 Ah tlit< ship drops h(;r anchor in the cl(»ar wattus o\' the cove, 
 numerous boats crowd round her, ofTering th<'ir services to convey 
 the passengi.Ts ashore, ^riio stranjicr on landijig is ph-asantly dis- 
 appoint(Hl at discovering that, alt.r a v >yH'^t; tti' n»';tily sixteen 
 thousand miles, ln> has suddenly step|»od into a pn-tty Knglish 
 country town, instiuid of the wild savage wilderness in whicii he 
 half i'XjK'cted to be thrown. The wide ma"u<!amised streets, cross- 
 ing each other at right angles, extend the whole length and breadth 
 id' the town ; some of them continuing their course into the bush 
 beyond it. The shops, with their plate-glass windows, and display 
 of Ih'itish manufactures ; th<* J'iUglish niotle of <lress. and hai»j»y 
 home-nmde faces ; the J.ondon-built carriages and brewejs' dravs: 
 the stiiring })lacards, with great hitters and many notes of admira- 
 tion, announcing "tremendous sai'iiliccs" aud sales by au(;ti«.»n ; 
 
272 
 
 U EM ARK ABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 -.4 
 
 H 
 
 bills of aimisn'inent, and missionary niootin_L!fs— evorythinp^ aronnd 
 hiui, Fpoaks of iiomo and lOnglish custoniH; and the occasional 
 appearance of a verandali and a wooden house, or a glimpse of the 
 distant hills, alone reminds him that ho is a denizen of a new conn- 
 try, a wanderer in a stranp^e land. Never was the oft-qnoted sayinj^ 
 of (^mnt Strzelecki more fully verified: "Wherever the Eng- 
 lishman estahlishos himself, there does he reproduce his native 
 country." 
 
 TJie climate of Tas.nania, too, resembles in some meas^ire that of 
 liUgland, though milder and more agreeable. It possesses all the 
 beauties without the drawbacks of that of Australia, — the same 
 genial temjKM'nture and clear atmosphere, without the winter deluges 
 of rain, or the long drouglits and parching winds of summer. The 
 hilly nature^ of the country i'>u])[)lies numerous streams of pur*^ 
 wat<'r, and the soil of the valleys and the hill-sides is most fertile 
 and productive. Every English fruit flourishes vigorously : the 
 orchards and gardens scarcely differ in their products from those at 
 honu^ ; the settlers grow only such crops as are common in the old 
 (•(nmtry, and many of the older Tasmanian farms would bear ccmi- 
 parison with some of the best in lOngland ; though, on the newei* 
 ones, the bare timber fences and unsightly blackened stumps of 
 trees detract considerably from their beauty. 
 
 The spacious ])lains of Australia enable the colonists of that 
 country to surpass th(^ Tasmanians in wool-growing, though the 
 hills of Van Diemen's J^and afford pasuire to thousands of shec]), 
 and 8h(»lter for numerous herds of cattle; and in her breed of 
 horses the island cohniy stands second only to England h<^rsell'. 
 Coal, frei'stone, and clay are plentiful, and timber adapted to shi|» 
 and house-buihling is found in every part of the island; but it is 
 on her agricultural capabilities that Tasmania chiefly rests her 
 claim to notice, and from which she derives a title that has been 
 hai»pily bostow<Ml upon her — '' the granary of the South Seas." 
 
A NIGHT IN TASMANIA. 
 
 273 
 
 lis 
 
 With my rocolleetions of the rolony aro nRsooiatod an adventiiro 
 in the wildoat pari of it ; the remembrance of a night passed in a 
 scene of which I still retain a moat vivid impression. The story 
 may not bo uninteresting to the reader, and it will, i)erhaps, funiish 
 a better idea of the unsettled districts of the country than any mere 
 details conh^ convev. 
 
 In the summer month of December, a few years ago, I had 
 occasion, in company with an old Imshman, to make an (excursion 
 to the Huon river, the communication between which and llohart 
 Town is usually by water, as the hilly and thickly timbered tract 
 that separates them has hitherto prevented the formation of any 
 road, other than a faint track marked by the occasional passage of 
 travollei*s. As tlie place that wo wished to reach lay higher up the 
 Ifuon than the point at which this track joins it, we intended, by 
 the aid of a pocket compass and the extensive experience of my 
 companion in bush-travelling, to trace out a new route which would 
 shorten the distance, and also carry us through a comparatively 
 unexplored countiy. With this design wo started from town fully 
 equipped for our journey, which wo expected to accomplish with 
 ease in two days. As we anticipated, in the course of our journey, 
 having occasion to kill some game, each carried a light fowling 
 piece and its accompaniments, with the usual requisites for bush 
 comfort. TIk^so consisted of two good opossum-skin rugs — the 
 most valuable article that a busliman can possess — strapped to our 
 shouldei-s, and containing a small sup])ly of provisions, together 
 with a tin pot for making tea, and a reserve of powder and sliot. 
 Uroad leathern belts confined the loose blue naimel sliirts that 
 formfHl our vq)per garments, and light hats made from the leaves ot 
 tbo Australian cabbage palm sliielded our heads from the rays of 
 iho sun. 
 
 Leaving the town, we were soon within the deep gorge that rises 
 towards Mount Wellington, and at the entrance of which is situated 
 
 
 It 
 
 W 
 
 'M 
 
274 
 
 REMARKABLK ADVENTURES. 
 
 
 lf.> 
 
 ■i 
 
 f 
 
 1 
 
 i\u) Casnudes Fafitory, a larj^e building]; in which are inoarceratod 
 the most iiicorrigibh^ of tho female coiivict:^. From tliis point tlu> 
 mountain rises to a lieight of four thousand f(>et, its sidt^s (covered 
 with trees, and the ascent continually broken by tho intervention 
 of deep chasms and ravines, their rugged walls hidden bequeath a 
 tangled mass of most luxuriant vegetation. A tolerably good path 
 has been formed to tho summit ol' tho mountain, and several ladies 
 have made th(3 ascent, amongst whom may bo especially mentioncid 
 Lady Franklin, who penetmted into many of the wildest recesMs 
 of tho ishiud during the governorship of her gallant husband, U])ou 
 whose fate so dark a shadow rests. But <jur road lav to the left of 
 th(i mountahi, over liills thickly H})rinkled with beautiful wattle 
 trees {acacia), covenMl with yellow Howers; and busliy honey- 
 suckles (hanksia), bearing pine-like cones ; mingled with patches 
 of forest or she-oaks {casuarina), trailing their long slender branches, 
 I'rom which droop weeping, threadlike tcsndrils instead of leaves. 
 1-leyond these hills rose a dark forestof hugc^gu'u trees (eMca/y^/<(.s) ; 
 and as the day declined, we entered a broad valley alK)unding with 
 gigantic specimens of this great genus, the most common and yet 
 tilt; stateliest of all Australia's arbortisccnt prodigies. Perhaps in 
 no part of the world can this noble eolleetion of forest giants Im< 
 surpassed. Oat*, that we roughly measured, was upwawls of iifty 
 feet in girth, and shot up, straight as an arrow, without a single 
 break in the smooth tai)ering stem, to a height of more than a 
 Imndred feet. Hen^ it threw out a number of lingo br'Miches, and 
 then towered aloft, twisted and gnarled, covered with erooked 
 boughs that (?ast a shade upon the topmost branches of tall tre<?s; 
 and Hutttiring with narrow leaves that turned their edges to the 
 earth, and danced and trembled in the sunlight. Tim full altitude 
 of this enormous treti must hav(» been above twt> lumdnMl feet, and 
 many others grew around it of nearly equal dimensions. 
 
 Ifp I'rom the valley, we went tu'ross another ridge of hills, and 
 
A NIGHT IN TASMANIA. 
 
 275 
 
 tho 
 udo 
 imd 
 
 unci 
 
 Ihcrc MP saw, IrirUiiin; tlirou^li tljc hollow, tlio littli' strcjiin Ixside 
 whioh wo meant to puss tlic night. Hen* th(; srcnc liad new 
 ttttmctions. It was tho porfoction of quiet bounty. The day liad 
 boon hot and sultry, and through tho long avenu(i of hills >vo saw 
 tho sun droop in tho wost, without a single cloud to catch tho 
 reflection of his fading glory ; whilst, as ho foil, there canio steal- 
 ing from tho sou the cool refreshing night breeze. TIk; evening 
 was one of those I have seen in no other country — so still and 
 gentle was it, and free from the tiiousand plagues that spring into 
 lifo with tho fiery sunset of the tropics. TIhj stream by which wo 
 eneumi)ed was overhung by tlui graceful sassai'ras and sombre light- 
 wood ; and luimerous flowering shrubs fringed its green banks, 
 spreading among the slender tea-treos that stood in groups, linked 
 to eaeh other by climbing }»lunts, from which hung many crimson 
 tassels and yellow bell-sh;,pe<l flowers. IJeyond stood the solitary 
 native cherry tree, its thick dark loliage drooping in stringy clus- 
 ters from the [jcndulous brunches, and deepened almost to bhuik in 
 the increasing gloom. All around, t(M), tlu* stunte<l fern trees 
 threw <»ut their majestic crowns of lung feathery leaves, and 
 stretched awav inlo tlu! fon-st until lost in the dense brushwood. 
 I'^'om tla* mid.il of this tower«'(l tin ifhu? and y<'llow gums, tla* 
 stringy bark, an<l other varieties of tla* eucalyj)ti, their gigantic 
 stems blackene<l by the busli lires, sa\j' wher(» the new bark, burst- 
 ing through in blend«'d streaks of blue and white, gav<^ to the old 
 forest kings a ghostly likeness, heightened by the nifairnful wav- 
 ing of the long dark strips that are ever j»eeling from their trunks ; 
 for tln'y follow thc! fashion of the eountry, where nature stamls upon 
 lier head, and shed their bark inst< ad (jf leaves. 
 
 Such was the beautiful scene uronnd us. Little did we think of 
 the p(M*il to which in a few hours onr lives were to !<c expose*! ; 
 but tJiis incident, and our i)rovid« ntial ilcliveruuce irum danger, 
 jnust hv reserved for our next chapter. 
 
 I." 
 
276 
 
 IlEMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Tiir: bountiful scenery described in my last pai)er was almo>t 
 fhroN\Ti away upon us, for we were desperately hungry. A lighted 
 raatoh b(Mng applied to a heap of dry grass and twigs, we had soon 
 a blazing fire, before which, in a few minutes, a brace of wattle 
 birds, shot during the day, were cooking in most primitive fashion. 
 Through each bird was thrust a long straight wand of tea-tree, 
 sharpened at botli ends, the otlier point being fixed obliquely in the 
 gi'ound, close to the red embers of the fire ; and thus our game was 
 quickly roasted in a style which, though it might slightly shock 
 31. Soycr, rendered it a veiy acceptable addition to our homely 
 supper. The tin pots, filh d from the stream, served the double 
 purpose of kettle and teapot ; and tea being mad«', they easily sui)- 
 ]»lied the want of cup and saucer — a whole tea equipagf? in one. 
 Supper over, we collected a .'-tore of firewood, gathering the broken 
 limbs that lay scattered r(niii(l a fallen trunk ; its huge bulk so 
 thoroughly decayed, that Iln(»ugh its centnj sjmmg a clustiM- 
 of young saplings. Out of lh<^ dead tlieie canu^ fortii life. 
 Another log on the fire, and then, with n stone or a tuft of kanga- 
 roo grass for a pillow, and our warm rugs wrapped closely I'onml 
 us, ih(> blue and richly jewelled heavens our enrtain, we slept, 
 more soundly than if couched in down, or, with Sliaks[)<'are's 
 
 K'inir, 
 
 " Than in Wui poifiimod cliaiulxTrt of f lio j,'ront, 
 Uiukr tlu* «!;ino|)ir.s cti" co.stly hUiU; 
 And luU'tl with hoiuuLs ul' .swccUrft niolody. " 
 
 But our sleep was roughly broken. I awok«^ with a, dreamy 
 sense of snlVoeation, and lay for a mouK^nt drowsily w<»n(lering what 
 it meant, when suddenly a loud explosion started me to my fet^t, 
 and a conviction of the truth instant Iv I lashed niKai me. Uui* firts 
 
A NIGHT IN TAf^MANI-A. 
 
 277 
 
 thougli carefully placed at a distanco from any (l(^ad timlxT, had 
 i^niitc'd tlio dry gi*asH, aud t\w llamo was rapidly sprcadiiJ<j^ throu^ifli 
 tli<; forest. It bad already gained tlic spot where, at a sliort dis- 
 tance from our resting place, we had deposited tiie remnant of our 
 ])rovisions, and had reached theeanister of powder, the txplosicjn of 
 whi(;li had happily aroused us. It was hut just in time. The lire 
 liad commenced on the o})])ositr side to that on wliicli we lay, hut 
 it was swiftly gliding towards us, the cahnuess of tlie night allow- 
 ing it to ex[)and in every direction as from a centre ; and the Jow 
 brushwood, and (by branches of fallen trees, were; already blazing 
 and roaring most furiously. We turned instinctively to tiie creek, 
 but it was a line of fin.'. The tea tree, and small bushes on its 
 banks, had caught like; match -wood, and thf; flame ^vas running 
 along them at a racing pace. To clinch th(! hill heliind us with 
 such an enemy in chase was utterly impossible ; and so, carrying 
 only our guns, we started up the creek at full speed, as in that 
 direction the fh'e seemed to make least headway, and wv hoped to 
 easily outstrip it, and then cross the stream in safety. For a few 
 minutes we appeared to gain upon our fleet adversary, and were 
 already turaing towards an opening in the line of trees, when, seiz- 
 ing on a bunch of leafy shrubs, the flame shot past us ; and, bla/ing 
 up, caught the branches of an overhanging tree, spread in an 
 instant across the narrow rivuhit, and glanced like lightning 
 through the vale beyond. Meantime, the belt of fire behind was 
 widening up the hill, and pressing close upon us. Its hot bi'cath 
 scorched our cheeks, and the eddying smoke rolled round us in 
 suflTocating clouds ; whilst long bright tongues of Hamo hissed 
 through the leaves, and flashed along the ground, licking up the 
 cby grass in their momentary passage. Half-blinded, and gasping 
 for breath, the perspiration streaming from our brows, with terrei- 
 and exertion we hurried on, scarcely knowing whither. 
 
 The lino of fire ujum the crock had rapidly preceded the broader 
 
 ii 
 
 ' ' 1 
 I. 
 
 Ii 
 
278 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTUUES. 
 
 , X. 
 
 'ii ■ 
 
 i 
 
 •' 
 
 1 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 ■ 
 
 { 
 
 
 
 ■ 
 
 
 \ 
 
 > 
 
 ■ 
 
 
 
 
 M 
 
 - 
 
 
 J 
 
 4 *■ 
 
 
 I'l 
 
 ■ 
 
 |,- 
 
 ':" 
 
 r , 
 
 track that swept across the hill, und had already advanced consi- 
 derably ahead ol' us, when a turn in the range revealed beyond the 
 stream an open piece of groimd stretchiuf^ towards the foot of 
 another hill, and only Htudded here and there by large solitary 
 pum trees. With a siniultnu(H)Us movement wo dashed down the 
 hill, the tufts of grass already burning b(4ieath our feet, and burst- 
 ing through the half-eotisuniod but still blazing tea tree, at a singlcj 
 bound we paswjd the creek, and stood in safety on the patch of 
 open ground. " Thank (jod !" — these were the first words we had 
 uttered since our fd'arlul waking ; and we wei>t like children, as. 
 with Jiauds clasj)ed together, we gazed on the terrible spectacles 
 befoi'e us. 
 
 We still rtiiained our guns ; and I had in my pocket a flask of 
 powder intended for use on the road, wliich had, happily IVtr nu;, 
 nut b(.'en ignited in our passage through the mass of burning scrub; 
 but our singed hair, scorched elotlung, and shrivelled iihot-belts, 
 told liow narrow liad been our escape. 
 
 'J'Ik^ sjK)t on wliicli we stood was free from undergrowth, aJid 
 nearly denuded of grass, the scattered tussocks lying too far jipai't 
 to be easily tired, and the ! smooth bark of the blue gum trees otfering 
 ]ittl<^ hold to the' iUmes. To retain our isolated position, and wait 
 until the fire had spread bey«mdus, was evidently our safest course; 
 and tliis we determined to adoj)t. 
 
 The night wan light as noonday, though the sky was hidden by 
 a heavy cloud oi' smoke that hung above the burnhig valhjy, and 
 spread its <lisHial folds from hill to hill, like S(jme hug(; funeral 
 pail: the black and drooping «'clges re(le(;ting here and there the 
 lurift hues tiirown from tlas llame-tinged centre. Far up the hill 
 spread a great sea of tir* — billows of llame heaving from every 
 clum}) of brushwooci ; the foremost waves rippled along the grass 
 lilvc an juivancing tide, with narrow streams of light sliooling 
 beyond tlicjn even' imjmeut, and then vanishing; whilst from tiio 
 
A NKillT IN TASMANIA. 
 
 scene rosf3 flufli ai roar aa e<'lK)es from old o<,*ean thuiulerinp in 
 anp:or on tlio n)cky bamers of some rocf-bonnd coast. The flntoes 
 flashed up the rough fibrous covering of the stringy bai'k like light- 
 ning, spreading to every bough, withering the leaves, and bursting 
 out among the bmnchos, until the huge trees stood like red-hot 
 I'olumns, bearing as their capitals great pyramids of flam(>. The 
 close, smooth bark of other eucalypti, though scorched and shri- 
 v<»lled by the heat, seemed incomb^istible ; but the long dead strips 
 tiiat fluttered round them burned most vividly, and twined about 
 i\ui blistering trunks in iiory tresses. Showers of sparks and 
 flaming Jeaves filled the still air, and lloated in the smoky canopy; 
 whilst tiirough the surf-like roll and ceaseless crackling there 
 came at intervals a startling crash, tlie echoing death-groan with 
 which some leafy monarch yielded to his fate, bowed his scorched 
 head, luid canying with him hosts of forest courtiers who had 
 grown l)eneath his shade, sank on the earth, that trembled at his 
 fall. The flame had mounted rapidly up the loose bark of other 
 trees, igniting the topmost branches, and then expiring on the 
 truidc: and thus a mass of fire hung in mid-air, and spreading 
 through the foliage around it raged as fiercely Jis that which glowed 
 and roar(?d below. Flights of parrots, dsizzled by the glare, ro.se 
 screaming from their perches, and dro])ped bewildered and half 
 suffocated in the burning chaos. 
 
 As morning approached, the wind rose, and many a half-con- 
 sumed tree fell before the sudden gusts that rushed with fitful 
 violence from the detjp hollows and distant valleys. . At daybreak 
 the fire bad passed along the range, and when the sim p<^eped 
 through the wind-gaps in the smoke, the scenes had lost its terrible 
 magnificence, and presented only marks of utter desolation and of 
 mournful ruin. Jn place of the closely matted shrubs, the climbing 
 flowers, the graceful ferns, and noble forest, tliere appeai'ed a 
 scathed and blackened prospect, from which all life had fled. 
 
 11 
 
280 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTUIIES. 
 
 I: 
 
 hi 
 
 ;». 
 
 hi 
 
 f] 
 
 ^.'^1 
 
 hi 
 
 i 
 
 Upon the smoking earth long lines of iino whito msIios niiirkc^d tlio 
 8pot where some thick group of clinging shrubs luid penHlicd, or 
 where the fallen stem of some lull sapling had been consunKMl. 
 The trees, like great black skeletoiLS, reared their gaunt limbs 
 stripped of all covering ; and round their trunks the fallen branches 
 gathered, aiding the Hre that slowly ate into their hearts. The 
 little rivulet, choked by the fallen timber, ros(^ in clouds of hissing 
 steam as shoM'crs of burning fragments fell into its channel. The 
 mass of veg(,'tation that grow in wild luxuriance on its banks, and 
 bent in twining arches across the murmuring current, was no 
 longer there; but in its place lay heaps of smoking crab sre. Tlie 
 whitt^ odorous sassafras and slender tea tree mingled their ashes 
 with those of tho. red light-wood and the yellow box. The hill 
 down which we had come the day before, scarce able to force a 
 passage through the thick undergrowth, j>reseuted now only long 
 rows of grimy trunks standing in solitary desolation — gigantic 
 mutes, mourners at natiu-e's funeral rites. 
 
 The fire had only extended a short distance beyond the creek, 
 confining its ravages principally to the ranges in which it had com- 
 menced ; and as we tinned to continue our journey, we could hear 
 the distant roar of the flames, and the crashing of the burning 
 forest far away. Though thankful and overjoyed at our escape, 
 yet our position was by no means a pleasant one. The little stock 
 of provisions was gone, but this was a trifling loss compared with 
 that of our pocket compass, which had also disappeared; for, 
 though rarely used by experienced bushmen in so short a jouniey 
 us ours, yet our ignorance of the country through which lay our 
 route, its hilly nature, and distance from the settled districts, ren- 
 dered such a guide indispensable. The rare glimpses of the sun 
 that reached us in the valleys were of little use in directing us, and 
 the continual devititions necessitated by the deep gnllic^s and steep 
 precipices that wo encountered soon completed onr i/ewildernient, 
 
A NKillT IN TASMANIA. 
 
 281 
 
 
 Tho din ct course of the j)lat:o wo wishod to reach was iihowi wost- 
 Hi)utli-w«jst ; but by kocpitij; too much to the westward we luijj^iit 
 go beyoud our destination, and «;nter a ]uirt of the countr' that 
 Htretchod away to the distant coast without a sinp^U^ settleniont, and 
 tlio greater pt)rtion of which has never been thorongldy explored. 
 Once within that unknown district, our extrication was very impro- 
 babk', and death from hunger woukl tlien be i\m certain termination 
 of our wanderings ; for the bush of Tttsmania does not contain a 
 singh; wild fruit capable of supporting life, and our slender stock of 
 ammunition would soon be expended. 
 
 Under these circumstances we resolved to steer due south, a 
 direction the most easily ascertained by the position of tho sun, 
 which in that country would of course be directly b(>hind ns at 
 noonday, and one that mnst ultimately bring us to some part of 
 the channel leading to Hobart Town, and probably to one of the 
 farms or convict stations planted on its sliores. In tho course of 
 the morning we shot a couple of parrots, and 8topj)ed on the bank 
 of a small stream to cook and eat them, selecting a perfectly clear 
 spot for our fire, and carefully extinguishing it when we resumed 
 our journey. Two beautiful bronze-winged pigeons who favoured 
 us with their com{)any at dinner, and appeared anxious to ascertain 
 what sort of animals we were who liad thus intruded on tlieir 
 territory, were secured by a skilful shot from my com|)anion, and 
 served for supper. 
 
 On the following morning we climbed to the top of a lugh hill 
 in the neighbourhood of our resting place, but no appearance of 
 wat(jr was dis(!erniblo ; the view was one uninterrupted succession 
 of wood-crowned hills and thickly-timbered hollows — a wavy sea 
 of many-tinted foliage. On this day wo caught an animal that is 
 now rare in Tasmania, and which I then saw lor the first time. It 
 was a s;,)ccic>? of ant-eater, called by tho settlers a ]»nn'npiiie, by 
 uaturaluts the echidna. It is considerably larger tliau tl»c E(:;ili^li 
 
%. 
 
 ^"V, 
 
 IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
 t 
 ^ 
 
 4 
 
 ///// • -fe ^Lf 
 
 :/. 
 
 f/j 
 
 
 1.0 
 
 I.I 
 
 1^ 
 
 us 
 
 1^ 
 
 Ii4 
 
 [12 
 
 1^ 
 
 IIIM 
 IIIIIM 
 
 
 III i-s 
 
 
 p^ 
 
 11.25 III 1.4 
 
 7 
 
 # 
 
 v^ 
 
 /a 
 
 W/ 
 
 '/ 
 
 
 Photographic 
 
 Sdencfs 
 
 Corporalion 
 
 ^'4^ 
 
 23 WEST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 
 
 (716)872-4503 
 
 '^ 
 
^4 
 
282 
 
 l:EMAIiKi\.BLE ADVENTUllES. 
 
 htidj^eliog, but covered with a similar coat of strong bristles, 
 interspersed with sharp thick quills, stouter but shorter than those 
 of tlie African porcupine. Its long pointed liead and powerful 
 claw3 enabled it to burrow in the ground with great rapidity, and it 
 adopted this mode of escape in the present instance, burying itself 
 in the soft earth in a moment. But its progress underground was 
 arrested by a blow from the butt-end of a gun ; and as my comrade 
 declared ■ him to be excellent eating, we reserved the thorny gen- 
 tleman for dinner. How to cook him was the next point for con- 
 sideration, and we decided in favour of the mode hi which bushmen 
 always bake their bread or dampers, and which 1 had occasionally 
 seen practised on a wild duck in Australia. 
 
 We chose for our bivouac a beautiful hollow, having in its centre 
 a small circular lake, fed by a little stream that trickled from the 
 hills. A thick border of tall reeds sm-rounded the lake, and its 
 surface was dotted by numerous water-fowl, the graceful black 
 swan and gorgeous mountain duck conspicuous among them. Here 
 our porcupine was carefully enveloped in a thick coat of mud and 
 clay, and buried in the centre of the iire, where we left him to 
 bake at leisure in the hot ashes, whilst we crept down to the lake, 
 and scattered a few shot among&t its plump inhabitants. When we 
 returned the lire had burned down, and the muddy covering of our 
 curious pie was baked into a hard crust, which, being broken ofC, 
 brought with it quills and bristles, and left the porcupine divested 
 of his armour and beautifully cooked. In appeiu*ance and liavour 
 tho llesh exactly resembles that of a sucking pig, for which, when 
 cooked, tho animal might easily have been mistaken ; excepting 
 that his nose terminated in a sharper point, and that hi,' ears were 
 exceedingly minute. 
 
 In tho morning, after breakfasting on the remains of the baked 
 porcu]>ino, we loft the lake loaded with game, and as we mounted 
 the ridge looked anxiously around us, hoping to detect tlij silvery 
 
 It ' ^ 
 
 f .) 
 
A NIGHT IN TASMAiJIA. 
 
 283 
 
 ^ve^o 
 
 I baked 
 )imted 
 kiivcry 
 
 glitter of the sea. But the same interminable expanse of foliage 
 met our jraze, and hill above hill still rose on everv hand. jMv 
 boots, cracked by the fire, had dropped to pieces, and travelling 
 over the pointed kangaroo grass and sharp diy twigs became ex- 
 tremely painful. Our clothes, already scorched to tinder by the 
 heat, were torn to shreds, and fluttered round us a mere heap of 
 rags. On this day, also, we found no water, and our miseries 
 seemed approaching to a climax as we toiled slowly, towards night- 
 fall, up a steep ridge of hills, hoping to find beyond them the 
 much-wished-for stream. At length we stood upon the summit 
 and looked down into the vale, and though no ripplmg brook 
 offered its waters to our thirsty lips, a far more pleasing sight 
 saluted us. Spread at our feet lay a broad (wpanse of water, a 
 deep bay, down which a little craft was slowly di-oppiug, her liglit 
 sails scarce filled by the gentle evening breeze, and her long 
 shadow broken and distorted by the merry leaping of the tiny 
 waves, that danced and glittered in the golden sunlight. In a 
 moment our fatigue was gone, our bleeding feet forgotten, and we 
 were quickly standing on the quiet beach. 
 
 A single hail acro.ss the still water reached the vessel, and in 
 return came the startled helmsman's loud halloo. A few words 
 told our story, and the little boat towed astern was soon sculling 
 towards the shore ; and as the red gleam of the setting sun shot 
 into the heavens, tinging the disttmt hills, and staining witli ruddy 
 glow the nearer waters, we stepped aboard the cumbfrcd wood 
 boat. 
 
 So circuitous liad been our route, that thougli four days had 
 elapsed since we started on our journey, we weio oidy some eigh- 
 teen miles from llobart Town, th(^ point at which wo reached the 
 channel being the head of North-west Bay. Sueh instances are 
 common of men travelling: manv davs in the bush, and vet oidv 
 advancing a few niiler. towards their destination, iinjwes-JMlMilli the 
 
284 
 
 REMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 idea that they are proceeding in a ytruight lino,, while they are 
 coiitinually wandermg in a circle. 
 
 Wt! were soon gliding over the .surface of the silvery Derwent ; 
 and d,s we lay at sunrise becalmed on its broad bosom, we could 
 see, lowering above the distant ranges, a dense cloud of smoke, its 
 long spiral wreaths still curling upwards from the valleys, winding 
 amongst the summits of the hills, and spreading round them a 
 dark gloomy curtain that fell in heavy folds above the scene of our 
 adventure and formed a fitting pall for tlie bhick desolation we had 
 left ; where many a mighty tree that had defied the attacks of 
 storm and time lay now a heap of ashes, its massive trunk dwindled 
 to a narrow line of light grey poM der and red earth. 
 
 A STRIKING PROVIDENCE. 
 
 
 1} a 
 
 
 'ill i 
 
 The Rev. Mr. Thompson was well known, not only to the 
 parishioners among whom he lived,* but to the neighbourhood at 
 large, for the great liberality of his character. He was literally 
 what Paul describes, " as po(3r, yet making many rich ; as having 
 nothing, and yet possessing all things." 
 
 It was the uniform custom of this truly apostolic pastor, every 
 year at the close of harvest, to distribute the surplus of his glebe 
 among the j)oor of his parish, after first housing the necessary 
 supply of his own little household, which consisted but of himself, 
 a man-servant, and an old female housekeeper. It so happened, 
 however, that one year a peculiar circumstance occurred which 
 compelled him to depart from his usual plan. He had engaged, 
 in the openness and generosity of his heart, to subscribe 30/. 
 towards the expense of buildmg a chapel in a distant town, where 
 
 * St. GennyB, iu Cornwall, iu tbo last century. 
 
A STRTKlXa PROVIDKNOE. 
 
 285 
 
 the parishioners were too numoroiis to l)o \v(?ll acconimoduted in 
 their own parish church. Having always the love of God and the 
 salvation of souls in view, he did not regret his promise ; but 
 unable to raise the money by any other means than by breaking 
 in upon the little hoard of his poor parishioners, he had no expe- 
 dient but that of selhng what heretofore he had always given away, 
 and converting tlio corn into money to fulfil his engagement for 
 the chapel. Instead, therefore, of calling his poor parishioners 
 together, as usual, to take from his fields their harvest, he was 
 obliged to invite some richer ones of the village to buy as much 
 com as would supply the 80/. which he had promised towards the 
 erection of the chapel. The expedient was very painful to a man 
 of his feelings, but the obligation seemed unavoidable. 
 
 Having by selling his com obtained the money, IVIr. Thompson 
 left his home with an intention to be himself the bearer of his 
 benefaction. In his journey, which was about twenty miles, he 
 overtook on the road a young lady, mounted on a hoi-se ; and being 
 a man of very cheerful and coDimunicative manners, he accosted 
 her with a degree of frankness which his age and profession might 
 be supposed to authorize. 
 
 " Well overtaken," said he, " fpir lady : will you accept of an old 
 man for your companion over the down? I am too old indeed to 
 promise you much protection; but I trust God will protect us 
 both." 
 
 There was a certain something in the manner with which he said 
 tliis, that the young lady, feeling a strong prepossession in his 
 favour, immediately thanked him and accepted his company. She 
 expressed iw.ich pleasure m his company, and as it appeared that 
 they V. jre both going to the same town, they trotted on together. 
 
 lu the course of their conversation, wliich was about t^e best 
 things, he told her his name, what a happy village of poor people 
 his was, and how dear the parishioners were to him ; but he avoided 
 
286 
 
 IlEMARKABLE ADVENTURES. 
 
 
 A ( 
 
 ii. 
 
 saying- any thing wliicli might load lior to imagine that their happi- 
 ness resulted from liis bounty, or that his conduct differed from 
 that of his neighbours. When they arrived at the town and were 
 about to part, he accpiainted his fellow traveller with the name of 
 the friend to whose house he was going, expressing at the same 
 time his wish that he might see the young lady again. 
 
 The young lady wai? so much pleased with her companion on the 
 road, that tlie same evening, in the course of conversation with hor 
 friends, to whose hous:i she was come upon a visit, she could not 
 liclp relating the circ imstance respecting the veiy agi'eeable old 
 clergyman she had met on the road, of the name of Thompson, and 
 with how many pleasant subjects he had enteiiained her. 
 
 " Thompson!" cried the lady of the house; *' I wonder wliether 
 lie is a relation to the captain Thompson we have been so many 
 years inquiring for in vain. I have 30?. tied up in a bag by my 
 late husband, due to the captain, who ordered it to be left till 
 called for. I suppose the captain is long since dead, and his 
 executor, whoever he is, knows nothing of it." 
 
 " Who can tell," answered the young lady, " whether tliis 
 Mr. Thompson may not be the very man? Suppose we send to 
 call him hither ?" The lady of the house consented to do so, and 
 despatched a servant requesting the favour of his company, with 
 which the good old man immediately complied. 
 
 In the course of conversation, the old lady of the house said she 
 understood his name was Thompson, and desired to ask him if ho 
 knew of a captain Thompson, who was in the East India service. 
 " Yes," said the old gentleman, " for he was my own brother." 
 And he began to relate such circumstances of him as rendered the 
 matter unquestionable. 
 
 The lady was rejoiced at the discovery. '' For," said she, " my 
 late husband bought a small garden from the late captain Thomp- 
 son ; and the captain hastening to sea before he had received the 
 
A STPJKTNO PROVrOT:NrE. 
 
 287 
 
 money agrood for tlio piirdmso, tlio 30/. av;)>( l,.ft ju ]iis ]ian<ls, 
 wliich was put in a bag, waiting the captain's letiun. But tliis 
 never took place. And at ray husband's death, ho left a strict 
 charge to keep the money ready for him whenever ho should 
 call." 
 
 Mr. Tliompson looked amazed at the discovery, his brother 
 having been dead several years, and himself the only surviving 
 relation, and the executor and residuary legatee of his effects! 
 The first impression wrouglit upon his mind so soon as tho lady of 
 the house put the bag with the ?>0I. into his hand, was strikinr;-. 
 He could not refrain, b(^fore them all, from breaking forth iuio 
 expressions of devout gratitude to God ; and falling upon his 
 Ivnees, with his eyes lifted up, he exclaimed, " Blessed bo God ! 
 how gracious, how wonderful, thus to provide for my poor p(^ople 
 at home 1 The money will be theirs again." 
 
 He hastened home to his friend, to inform him of what had 
 h'lppened ; and so very full was his soul with joy on this occ^asion, 
 tliat as he entered his house he cried out, "Praise God for ever! 
 Our God is a faithful God." His host was astonished, and for tho 
 moment thought Mr. Thompson's mind was unhinged, so excited 
 did he seem ; but when his first paroxysm of joy had somewhat 
 subsided, and he related the event, liis friend, as well as himself, 
 found cause to say, " What hath God wrought?" 
 
 THE END. 
 
Ilj." • 
 
 w. 
 
 ■ h 
 
 l.(iM>i>N ; 
 
 PRINTKD UV \V. t'l.OWKH AND SOXS, BTAIUOKD STliKKT, 
 
 Wl> CIIAIIINO CROSS. 
 
 SI