rees. Some of
these plants had white, spotted, and purple blossoms; and there was one
splendid species, called by the natives the flor de Santa Anna--the
flower of Saint Ann--which emitted a delightful odour and was four
inches in diameter.

Having traversed this part of the wood, they once more emerged upon the
main stream of the Amazon. It was covered with waterfowl. Large logs
of trees and numerous floating islands of grass were sailing down; and
on these sat hundreds of white gulls, demurely and comfortably voyaging
to the ocean; for the sea would be their final resting-place if they sat
on these logs and islands until they descended several hundreds of miles
of the great river.

"I wish," said Martin, after a long silence, during which the travellers
had been gazing on the watery waste as they paddled up stream--"I wish
that we could fall in with solid land, where we might have something
cooked. I'm desperately hungry now; but I don't see a spot of earth
large enough for a mosquito to rest his foot on."

"We'll jist have to take to farhina and wather," remarked Barney, laying
down his paddle and proceeding leisurely to light his pipe. "It's a
blissin' we've got baccy, any how. 'Tis mesilf that could niver git on
without it."

"I wish you joy of it, Barney. It may fill your mouth, but it can't
stop your hunger."

"Och, boy, it's little ye know! Sure it stops the cravin's o' hunger,
and kapes yer stumick from callin' out for iver, till ye fall in with
somethin' to ate."

"It does not seem to stop the mouth then, Barney, for you call out for
grub oftener than I do; and then you say that you couldn't get on
without it; so you're a slave to it old boy. I wouldn't be a slave to
anything if I could help it."

"Martin, lad, ye're gittin' deep. Take care now, or ye'll be in
mettlefeesics soon. I say, ould black-face,"--Barney was not on
ceremony with the old trader,--"is there no land in thim parts at all?"

"No, not dis night."

"Och, then, we'll have to git up a tree and try to cook somethin' there;
for I'm not goin' to work on flour and wather. Hallo! hould on!
There's an island, or the portrait o' wan! Port your helm, Naygur! hard
sport! D'ye hear?"

The old man heard, but, as usual, paid no attention to the Irishman's
remarks; and the canoe would have passed straight on, had not Barney
used his bow-paddle so energetically that he managed to steer her, as he
expressed it, by the nose, and ran