narrative says:--"During the earlier part of the day our ride had been
over a very level prairie, or rather a succession of long stretches of
prairie, separated by lines and groves of oak timber, growing along dry
gullies, which are tilled with water in seasons of rain; and perhaps,
also, by the melting snows. Over much of this extent the vegetation was
spare; the surface showing plainly the action of water, which, in the
season of flood, the Joaquin spreads over the valley. About one o'clock,
we came again among innumerable flowers; and, a few miles further,
fields of beautiful blue-flowering _lupine_, which seems to love the
neighbourhood of water, indicated that we were approaching a stream. We
here found this beautiful shrub in thickets, some of them being twelve
feet in height. Occasionally, three or four plants were clustered
together, forming a grand bouquet, about ninety feet in circumference,
and ten feet high; the whole summit covered with spikes of flowers, the
perfume of which is very sweet and grateful. A lover of natural beauty
can imagine with what pleasure we rode among these flowering groves,
which filled the air with a light and delicate fragrance. We continued
our road for about half a mile, interspersed through an open grove of
live oaks, which, in form, were the most symmetrical and beautiful we
had yet seen in this country. The ends of their branches rested on the
ground, forming somewhat more than a half sphere of very full and
regular figure, with leaves apparently smaller than usual. The
Californian poppy, of a rich orange colour, was numerous to-day. Elk and
several bands of antelope made their appearance. Our road now was one
continued enjoyment; and it was pleasant riding among this assemblage of
green pastures, with varied flowers and scattered groves, and, out of
the warm, green spring, to look at the rocky and snowy peaks where
lately we had suffered so much."
Again, in the Sierra Nevada:--"Our journey to-day was in the midst of an
advanced spring, whose green and floral beauty offered a delightful
contrast to the sandy valley we had just left. All the day snow was in
sight on the butt of the mountain, which frowned down upon us on the
right; but we beheld it now with feelings of pleasant security, as we
rode along between green trees and on flowers, with humming-birds and
other feathered friends of the traveller enlivening the serene spring
air. As we reached the summit of this beautiful pass, and obtained a
view into the eastern country, we saw at once that here was the place to
take leave of all such pleasant scenes as those around us. The distant
mountains were now bald rocks again; and, below, the land had any colour
but green. Taking into consideration the nature of the Sierra Nevada, we
found this pass an excellent one for horses; and, with a little labour,
or, perhaps, with a more perfect examination of the localities, it might
be made sufficiently practicable for waggons."
FREMONT'S _Travels_.
* * * * *
THE GROUSE.
[Illustration: Letter W.]
We have but few European birds presenting more points of interest in
their history than the Grouse, a species peculiar to the northern and
temperate latitudes of the globe. Dense pine forests are the abode of
some; others frequent the wild tracts of heath-clad moorland, while the
patches of vegetation scattered among the rocky peaks of the mountains,
afford a congenial residence to others. Patient of cold, and protected
during the intense severities of winter by their thick plumage, they
give animation to the frozen solitude long after all other birds have
retired from the desolate scenery. Their food consists of the tender
shoots of pines, the seeds of plants, the berries of the arbutus and
bilberry, the buds of the birch and alder, the buds of the heather,
leaves, and grain. The nest is very simply constructed, consisting of
dried grasses placed upon the ground and sheltered among the herbage.
Two species of this bird, called forest grouse, are indigenous in
England: one is the black grouse, common in the pine woods of Scotland
and of the northern part of England, and elsewhere; the other is the
capercailzie or cock of the woods. Formerly, in Ireland, and still more
recently in Scotland, this noble bird, the most magnificent of the whole
of the grouse tribe, was abundant in the larger woods; but it gradually
disappeared, from the indiscriminate slaughter to which it was subject.
Selby informs us that the last individual of this species in Scotland
was killed about forty years ago, near Inverness. It still abounds in
the pine forests of Sweden and Norway, and an attempt has been made by
the Marquis of Breadalbane to re-introduce it into Scotland.
The red grouse, or moor grouse, is found in Scotland; and it is somewhat
singular that this beautiful bird should not be known on the Continent,
abundant as it is on the moorlands of Scotland, England, and Ireland.
The breeding season of the red grouse is very early in spring, and the
female deposits her eggs, eight or ten in number, in a high tuft of
heather. The eggs are peculiarly beautiful, of a rich brown colour,
spotted with black, and both herself and her mate attend the young with
great assiduity. The brood continue in company during the winter, and
often unite with other broods, forming large packs, which range the high
moorlands, being usually shy and difficult of approach. Various berries,
such as the cranberry, the bilberry, together with the tender shoots of
heath, constitute the food of this species. The plumage is a rich
colouring of chestnut, barred with black. The cock grouse in October is
a very handsome bird, with his bright red comb erected above his eyes,
and his fine brown plumage shining in the sun.
[Illustration: GROUSE.]
The ptarmigan grouse is not only a native of Scotland but of the higher
latitudes of continental Europe, and, perhaps, the changes of plumage in
none of the feathered races are more remarkable than those which the
ptarmigans undergo. Their full summer plumage is yellow, more or less
inclining to brown, beautifully barred with zig-zag lines of black.
Their winter dress is pure white, except that the outer tail-feathers,
the shafts of the quills, and a streak from the eye to the beak are
black. This singular change of plumage enables it, when the mountains
are covered with snow, to escape the observation of the eagle, Iceland
falcon, and the snowy owl: the feathers become much fuller, thicker, and
more downy; the bill is almost hidden, and the legs become so thickly
covered with hair-like feathers, as to resemble the legs of some
well-furred quadruped.
* * * * *
PATMOS.
[Illustration: Letter P.]
Patmos affords one of the few exceptions which are to be found to the
general beauty and fertility of the islands of the Aegean Sea. Its
natural advantages, indeed, are very few, for the whole of the island is
little else than one continued rock, rising frequently into hills and
mountains. Its valleys are seldom susceptible of cultivation, and
scarcely ever reward it. Almost the only spot, indeed, in which it has
been attempted, is a small valley in the west, where the richer
inhabitants have a few gardens. On account of its stern and desolate
character, the island was used, under the Roman Empire, as a place of
banishment; and here the Apostle St. John, during the persecution of
Domitian, was banished, and wrote the book of the Revelations. The
island now bears the name of Patino and Palmosa, but a natural grotto in
the rock is still shown as the place where St. John resided. "In and
around it," says Mr. Turner, "the Greeks have dressed up one of their
tawdry churches; and on the same site is a school attached to the
church, in which a few children are taught reading and writing."
[Illustration: PATMOS.]
Patmos used to be a famous resort of pirates. Dr. Clarke, after
describing with enthusiasm the splendid scene which he witnessed in
passing by Patmos, with feelings naturally excited by all the
circumstances of local solemnity, and "the evening sun behind the
towering cliffs of Patmos, gilding the battlements of the Monastery of
the Apocalypse with its parting rays; the consecrated island, surrounded
by inexpressible brightness, seeming to float upon an abyss of fire,
while the moon, in milder splendour, was rising full over the opposite
expanse," proceeds to remark, "How very different were the reflections
caused upon leaving the deck, by observing a sailor with a lighted match
in his hand, and our captain busied in appointing an extraordinary watch
for the night, as a precaution against the pirates who swarm in these
seas." These wretches, as dastardly as they were cruel, the instant they
boarded a vessel, put every individual of the crew to death. They lurked
about the isle of Fouri, to the north of Patmos, in great numbers,
taking possession of bays and creeks the least frequented by other
mariners. After they had plundered a ship, they bored a hole through her
bottom, and took to their boats again. The knights of Malta were said to
be amongst the worst of these robbers. In the library of the Monastery,
which is built on the top of a mountain, and in the middle of the chief
town, may be seen bulls from two of the Popes, and a protection from the
Emperor Charles the Sixth, issued to protect the island from their
incursions.
Though deficient in trees, Patmos now abounds in flowering plants and
shrubs. Walnuts and other fruit trees grow in the orchards; and the wine
of Patmos is the strongest and best flavoured of any in the Greek
islands. The view of Patmos from the highest point is said to be very
curious. The eye looks down on nothing but mountains below it; and the
excessive narrowness of the island, with the curious form of its coast,
have an extraordinary appearance.
* * * * *
SHAKSPEARE.
[Illustration: Letter M.]
Memorable in the history of genius is the 23rd of April, as being at
once the day of the birth and death of Shakspeare; and these events took
place on the same spot, for at Stratford-upon-Avon this illustrious
dramatist was born, in the year 1564, and here he also died, in 1616. It
has been conjectured, that his first dramatic composition was produced
when he was but twenty-five years old. He continued to write for the
stage for a great number of years; occasionally, also, appearing as a
performer: and at length, having, by his exertions, secured a fortune of
two or three hundred a year, retired to his native town, where he
purchased a small estate, and spent the remainder of his days in ease
and honour.
[Illustration: THE CHANDOS PORTRAIT OF SHAKESPEARE.]
When Washington Irving visited Stratford-upon-Avon, he was led to make
the following elegant reflections on the return of the poet to his early
home:--"He who has sought renown about the world, and has reaped a full
harvest of worldly favours, will find, after all, that there is no love,
no admiration, no applause, so sweet to the soul as that which springs
up in his native place. It is there that he seeks to be gathered in
peace and honour among his kindred and his early friends. And when the
weary heart and failing head begin to warn him that the evening of life
is drawing on, he turns as fondly as does the infant to the mother's
arms, to sink in sleep in the bosom of the scene of his childhood. How
would it have cheered the spirit of the youthful bard, when, wandering
forth in disgrace upon a doubtful world, he cast a heavy look upon his
pastoral home, could he have foreseen that, before many years, he should
return to it covered with renown; that his name should become the boast
and glory of his native place; that his ashes should be religiously
guarded as its most precious treasure; and that its lessening spire, on
which his eyes were fixed in tearful contemplation, should one day
become the beacon, towering amidst the gentle landscape, to guide the
literary pilgrim of every nation to his tomb!"
The accredited birth-place of Shakspeare has always been regarded with
great interest: it is situate in a street in Stratford, retaining its
ancient name of Henley, being the road to Henley-in-Arden. In 1574, here
stood two houses, with a garden and orchard attached to each; and these
houses were then purchased by John Shakspeare, whose son William was
born in one of them, which still remains, though altered according to
modern fashion. Its gable roofs are destroyed. Divided and subdivided
into smaller tenements, part was converted into a little inn; part, the
residence of a female who formerly showed the room where Shakspeare
first saw the light, and the low-roofed kitchen where his mother taught
him to read. The walls of the room in which he was born are literally
covered with thousands of names, inscribed in homage by pilgrims from
every region where the glory of Shakspeare is known. At the time when
Shakspeare's father bought this house, it was, no doubt, quite a
mansion, as compared with the majority of the houses in Stratford; but
he little guessed the fame that would attach itself to this birth-place
of his gifted son; long, we trust, to be preserved for the gratification
of future generations of visitors to the hallowed spot. Besides his
plays, Shakspeare was the author of several other poetical productions,
and especially of a collection of sonnets.
[Illustration: SHAKSPEARE'S HOUSE, STRATFORD-UPON-AVON.]
* * * * *
THE RETURN OF THE DOVE.
[Illustration]
There hope in the Ark at the dawning of day,
When o'er the wide waters the Dove flew away;
But when ere the night she came wearily back
With the leaf she had pluck'd on her desolate track,
The children of Noah knelt down and adored,
And utter'd in anthems their praise to the Lord.
Oh bird of glad tidings! oh joy in our pain!
Beautiful Dove! thou art welcome again.
When peace has departed the care-stricken breast,
And the feet of the weary one languish for rest;
When the world is a wide-spreading ocean of grief,
How blest the return of the Bird and the Leaf!
Reliance on God is the Dove to our Ark,
And Peace is the olive she plucks in the dark.
The deluge abates, there is sun after rain--
Beautiful Dove! thou art welcome again!
MACKAY.
[Illustration: SYRIAN DOVE.]
* * * * *
COBRA DI CAPELLO--HOODED SNAKE.
[Illustration: Letter T.]
There are several varieties of this venomous serpent, differing in point
of colour; and the aspic of Egypt, with which Cleopatra destroyed
herself, is said to be a very near ally to this species; but the true
cobra is entirely confined to India.
The danger which accompanies the bite of this reptile, its activity when
excited, the singularity of its form, and the gracefulness of its
action, combine to render it one of the most remarkable animals of the
class to which it belongs. When in its ordinary state of repose the neck
is of the same diameter as the head; but when surprised or irritated,
the skin expands laterally in a hood-like form, which is well known to
the inhabitants of India as the symptom of approaching danger.
Notwithstanding the fatal effects of the bite of these serpents, the
Indian jugglers are not deterred from capturing and taming them for
exhibition, which they do with singular adroitness, and with fearful
interest to the unpractised observer. They carry the reptiles from house
to house in a small round basket, from which they issue at the sound of
a sort of flute, and execute certain movements in cadence with the
music.
The animal from which our Engraving was taken is now in the menagerie of
the Zoological Society in the Regent's Park, and is probably one of the
finest which has ever reached England alive.
The Indian mangouste is described to be the most deadly enemy of the
cobra di capello, and the battles between them have been frequently
described. The serpent, when aware of the approach of the mangouste,
rises on its tail, and with neck dilated, its head advanced, and eyes
staring, awaits with every look of rage and fear the attack of its foe.
The mangouste steals nearer and nearer, and creeping round, endeavours
to get an opportunity of springing on the serpent's back; and whenever
it misses its purpose and receives a bite, it runs perhaps some
distance, to eat the mangouste-grass, which is an antidote against the
poison: it then returns to the attack, in which it is commonly
victorious.
The bite of the cobra di capello is not so immediately fatal as is
commonly supposed; fowls have been known to live two days after being
bitten, though they frequently die within half an hour. The snake never
bites while its hood is closed, and as long as this is not erected the
animal may be approached, and even handled with impunity; even when the
hood is spread, while the creature continues silent, there is no danger.
The fearful hiss is at once the signal of aggression and of peril.
Though the cobra is so deadly when under excitement, it is,
nevertheless, astonishing to see how readily it is appeased, even in
the highest state of exasperation, and this merely by the droning music
with which its exhibitors seem to charm it.
[Illustration: COBRA DI CAPELLO.]
The natives of India have a superstitious feeling with regard to this
snake; they conceive that it belongs to another world, and when it
appears in this, it is only as a visitor. In consequence of this notion
they always avoid killing it, if possible.
* * * * *
THE PYRAMID LAKE.
[Illustration: Letter P.]
Perhaps of all the localities of the Oregon territory so vividly
described in Captain Fremont's adventurous narrative, the Pyramid Lake,
visited on the homeward journey from the Dallas to the Missouri river,
is the most beautiful. The exploring party having reached a defile
between mountains descending rapidly about 2000 feet, saw, filling up
all the lower space, a sheet of green water some twenty miles broad. "It
broke upon our eyes," says the narrator, "like the ocean: the
neighbouring peaks rose high above us, and we ascended one of them to
obtain a better view. The waves were curling to the breeze, and their
dark green colour showed it to be a body of deep water. For a long time
we sat enjoying the view, for we had become fatigued with mountains, and
the free expanse of moving waves was very grateful. It was like a gem in
the mountains, which, from our position, seemed to enclose it almost
entirely. At the eastern end it communicated with the line of basins we
had left a few days since; and on the opposite side it swept a ridge of
snowy mountains, the foot of the great Sierra. We followed a broad
Indian trail or tract along the shore of the lake to the southward. For
a short space we had room enough in the bottom, but, after travelling a
short distance, the water swept the foot of the precipitous mountains,
the peaks of which are about 3000 feet above the lake. We afterwards
encamped on the shore, opposite a very remarkable rock in the lake,
which had attracted our attention for many miles. It rose according to
our estimation 600 feet above the level of the water, and, from the
point we viewed it, presented a pretty exact outline of the great
pyramid of Cheops. Like other rocks along the shore, it seemed to be
encrusted with calcareous cement. This striking feature suggested a name
for the lake, and I called it Pyramid Lake. Its elevation above the sea
is 4890 feet, being nearly 700 feet higher than the Great Salt Lake,
from which it lies nearly west." The position and elevation of Pyramid
Lake make it an object of geographical interest. It is the nearest lake
to the western river, as the Great Salt Lake is to the eastern river, of
the great basin which lies between the base of the Rocky Mountains and
the Sierra Nevada, and the extent and character of which it is so
desirable to know.
Many parts of the borders of this lake appear to be a favourite place of
encampment for the Indians, whose number in this country is estimated at
140,000. They retain, still unaltered, most of the features of the
savage character. They procure food almost solely by hunting; and to
surprise a hostile tribe, to massacre them with every exercise of savage
cruelty, and to carry off their scalps as trophies, is their highest
ambition. Their domestic behaviour, however, is orderly and peaceable;
and they seldom kill or rob a white man. Considerable attempts have been
made to civilize them, and with some success; but the moment that any
impulse has been given to war and hunting, they have instantly reverted
to their original habits.
[Illustration: PYRAMID LAKE, OREGON TERRITORY.]
* * * * *
ADAM AND EVE IN PARADISE.
Now came still evening on, and twilight grey
Had in her sober livery all things clad.
Silence accompanied: for beast and bird,
They to their grassy couch, these to their nests,
Were slunk--all but the wakeful nightingale:
She, all night long, her am'rous descant sung.
Silence was pleased. Now glow'd the firmament
With living sapphires: Hesperus, that led
The starry host, rode brightest; till the moon,
Rising in clouded majesty, at length,
Apparent queen, unveil'd her peerless light,
And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw--
When Adam thus to Eve: "Fair consort, the hour
Of night, and all things now retired to rest,
'Mind us of like repose: since God hath set
Labour and rest, as day and night, to men
Successive; and the timely dew of sleep,
Now falling with soft slumberous weight,
Inclines our eyelids."--
[Illustration]
To whom thus Eve, with perfect beauty adorn'd:
"My author and disposer, what thou bidst
Unargued I obey. So God ordains.
With thee conversing I forget all time,
All seasons and their change: all please alike.
Sweet is the breath of morn--her rising sweet,
With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the sun,
When first on this delightful land he spreads
His orient beams on herb, tree, fruit, and flower,
Glistering with dew; fragrant the fertile earth
After short show'rs; and sweet the coming on
Of grateful evening mild--then silent night,
With this her solemn bird, and this fair moon,
And these the gems of heav'n, her starry train:
But neither breath of morn, when she ascends
With charm of earliest birds; nor rising sun
On this delightful land; nor herb, fruit, flower
Glistering with dew, nor fragrance after showers,
Nor grateful evening mild; nor silent night,
With this her solemn bird; nor walk by moon
Or glitt'ring starlight, without thee is sweet."--
Thus talking, hand in hand alone they pass'd
On to their blissful bower.
Thus at their shady lodge arrived, both stood,
Both turn'd, and under open sky adored
The God that made both sky, air, earth, and heaven,
Which they beheld, the moon's resplendent globe,
And starry pole. "Thou also madest the night,
Maker Omnipotent! and Thou the day,
Which we, in our appointed work employ'd,
Have finish'd; happy in our mutual help
And mutual love, the crown of all our bliss
Ordain'd by thee, and this delicious place,
For us too large, where thy abundance wants
Partakers, and uncropt, falls to the ground.
But Thou hast promised from us two a race
To fill the earth, who shall with us extol
Thy goodness infinite, both when we wake,
And when we seek, as now, thy gift of sleep."
MILTON.
* * * * *
OLIVER GOLDSMITH.
[Illustration: Letter G.]