next morning on the subject was as useless and
unsatisfactory as the dead silence which succeeded to the noise.

He who wishes to reach the Macoushi country had better send his canoe
over land from Sinkerman's to the Essequibo.

There is a pretty good path, and meeting a creek about three-quarters of
the way, it eases the labour, and twelve Indians will arrive with it in
the Essequibo in four days.

The traveller need not attend his canoe; there is a shorter and a better
way. Half an hour below Sinkerman's he finds a little creek on the
western bank of the Demerara. After proceeding about a couple of hundred
yards up it, he leaves it, and pursues a west-north-west direction by
land for the Essequibo. The path is good, though somewhat rugged with
the roots of trees, and here and there obstructed by fallen ones; it
extends more over level ground than otherwise. There are a few steep
ascents and descents in it, with a little brook running at the bottom of
them; but they are easily passed over, and the fallen trees serve for a
bridge.

You may reach the Essequibo with ease in a day and a half; and so matted
and interwoven are the tops of the trees above you, that the sun is not
felt once all the way, saving where the space which a newly-fallen tree
occupied lets in his rays upon you. The forest contains an abundance of
wild hogs, lobbas, acouries, powisses, maams, maroudis, and waracabas for
your nourishment, and there are plenty of leaves to cover a shed whenever
you are inclined to sleep.

The soil has three-fourths of sand in it, till you come within half an
hour's walk of the Essequibo, where you find a red gravel and rocks. In
this retired and solitary tract, nature's garb, to all appearance, has
not been injured by fire, nor her productions broken in upon by the
exterminating hand of man.

Here the finest green-heart grows, and wallaba, purple-heart, siloabali,
sawari, buletre, tauronira, and mora, are met with in vast abundance, far
and near, towering up in majestic grandeur, straight as pillars sixty or
seventy feet high, without a knot, or branch.

Traveller, forget for a little while the idea thou hast of wandering
farther on, and stop and look at this grand picture of vegetable nature;
it is a reflection of the crowd thou hast lately been in, and though a
silent monitor, it is not a less eloquent one on that account. See that
noble purple-heart before thee! Nature has been kind to it. Not a hole,