Village books

Nothing in vegetable
nature can be conceived more charming, grand and luxuriant.
How the heart rejoices in viewing this beautiful landscape when the sky is
serene, the air cool and the sun just sunk behind the mountain's top!
The hayawa-tree perfumes the woods around: pairs of scarlet aras are
continually crossing the river. The maam sends forth its plaintive note,
the wren chants its evening song. The caprimulgus wheels in busy flight
around the canoe, while "Whip-poor-will" sits on the broken stump near the
water's edge, complaining as the shades of night set in.
A little before you pass the last of these rapids two immense rocks appear,
nearly on the summit of one of the many hills which form this far-extending
range where it begins to fall off gradually to the south.
They look like two ancient stately towers of some Gothic potentate rearing
their heads above the surrounding trees. What with their situation and
their shape together, they strike the beholder with an idea of antiquated
grandeur which he will never forget.


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