bold swim for life. Well; let them pass: the cry grows fainter and fainter; and they-the pursued and the pursuer-are but an emblem of what is going on in the civilized world from which I am severed. Life may be divided into two parts—the hunters and the hunted. It is an endless chase, where the timid and the weak constantly fall by the way. The swift racers come and go like shadows on the vision; and the cries of fear and of victory swell on the ear and die away, only to give place to another and another. Thus musing, I pushed on;—at length, we left the bed of the stream, and began to climb amid broken rocks that were piled in huge chaos, up and up, as far as the eye could reach. My rifle became such a burden, that I was compelled to leave it against a tree, with a mark erected near by, to determine its locality. I had expected, from paintings I had seen of this Pass, that I was to walk almost on a level into a huge gap between two mountains, and look up on the precipices that toppled heaven high above me. But here was a world of rocks, overgrown with trecs and moss-over and under and between which we were compelled to crawl and dive and work our way with so much exertion and care, that the strongest soon began to be exhausted. Caverns opened on every side; and a more hideous, toilsome, breakneck tramp I never took. Leaping a chasm at one time, we paused upon the brow of an overhanging cliff, while Cheney, pointing below, said, "There, I've scared panthers from those caverns many times; we may meet one yet: if so, I think he'll remember us as long as he lives!" I thought the probabilities were, that we should remember him much longer than he would us. At least I had no desire to task his memory, being perfectly willing to leave the matter undecided. There was a stream somewhere; but no foot could follow it, for it was a succession of cascades, with perpendicular walls each side hemming it in. It was more ike climbing a broken and shattered mountain, than entering a gorge. At length, however, we came where the fallen rocks had made an open space around, and spread a fearful ruin in their place. On many of these, trees were growing fifty feet high, while a hundred men could find shelter in their sides. As the eye sweeps over these fragments of a former earthquake, the imagination is busy with the past—the period when an interlocking range of |