. In front of the village there was
an extensive valley, through which a small river gurgled with a pleasant
sound. It was hemmed in on all sides by wooded mountains, and was so
beautifully diversified by scattered clusters of palms, and irregular
patches of undulating grassy plains, all covered with a rich profusion
of tropical flowers and climbing-plants, that it seemed to Martin more
like a magnificent garden than the uncultivated forest--only far more
rich and lovely and picturesque than any artificial garden could
possibly be. When the sun shone in full splendour on this valley--as it
almost always did!--it seemed as if the whole landscape were on the
point of bursting into flames of red and blue, and green and gold; and
when Martin sat under the shade of a tamarind-tree and gazed long upon
the enchanting scene, his memory often reverted to the Eden of which he
used to read in the Bible at home, and he used to wonder if it were
possible that the sun and flowers and trees _could_ be more lovely in
the time when Adam walked with God in Paradise.

Martin was young then, and he did not consider, although he afterwards
came to know, that it was not the beauty of natural objects, but the
presence and favour of God and the absence of sin, that rendered the
Garden of Eden a paradise. But these thoughts always carried him back
to dear old Aunt Dorothy and the sweet village of Ashford; and the
Brazilian paradise was not unfrequently obliterated in tears while he
gazed, and turned into a vale of weeping. Ay, he would have given that
magnificent valley,--had it been his own, ten times over, in exchange
for one more glance at the loved faces and the green fields of home.

Soon after his arrival at the Indian village Martin was given to
understand, by signs, that he was to reside with a particular family,
and work every day in the maize and mandioca fields, besides doing a
great deal of the drudgery of the hut; so that he now knew he was
regarded as a slave by the tribe into whose hands he had fallen. It is
impossible to express the bitterness of his feelings at this discovery,
and for many weeks he went about his work scarcely knowing what he did,
and caring little, when the hot sun beat on him so fiercely that he
could hardly stand, whether he lived or died. At length, however, he
made up his mind firmly to attempt his escape. He was sitting beneath
the shade of his favourite resort, the tamarind-tree, when he made thi