than a river, but I was in continual fear of coming to more places where
the water would be over the track, and perhaps of finding myself unable
to get any farther. I therefore failed to enjoy what was really far the
most impressive sight in its way that I had ever seen. "Give me," I said
to myself, "the Thames at Richmond," and right thankful was I, when at
about two o'clock I found that I was through the gorge and in a wide
valley, the greater part of which, however, was still covered by the
river. It was here that I heard for the first time the curious sound of
boulders knocking against each other underneath the great body of water
that kept rolling them round and round.

I now halted, and lit a fire, for there was much dead scrub standing that
had remained after the ground had been burned for the first time some
years previously. I made myself some tea, and turned Doctor out for a
couple of hours to feed. I did not hobble him, for my father had told me
that he would always come for bread. When I had dined, and smoked, and
slept for a couple of hours or so, I reloaded Doctor and resumed my
journey towards the shepherd's hut, which I caught sight of about a mile
before I reached it. When nearly half a mile off it, I dismounted, and
made a written note of the exact spot at which I did so. I then turned
for a couple of hundred yards to my right, at right angles to the track,
where some huge rocks were lying--fallen ages since from the mountain
that flanked this side of the valley. Here I deposited my knapsack in a
hollow underneath some of the rocks, and put a good sized stone in front
of it, for I meant spending a couple of days with the shepherd to let the
river go down. Moreover, as it was now only December 3, I had too much
time on my hands, but I had not dared to cut things finer.

I reached the hut at about six o'clock, and introduced myself to the
shepherd, who was a nice, kind old man, commonly called Harris, but his
real name he told me was Horace--Horace Taylor. I had the conversation
with him of which I have already told the reader, adding that my father
had been unable to give a coherent account of what he had seen, and that
I had been sent to get the information he had failed to furnish.

The old man said that I must certainly wait a couple of days before I
went higher up the river. He had made himself a nice garden, in which he
took the greatest pride, and which supplied him with plenty of
v