We can gaze no longer at this awful scene. The battle was sufficiently exciting to absorb our attention, but we have no desire to see how the great monster disposes of the body of his valiant foe. Let us therefore leave the river bank, and visit another portion of the old continent.
We stand in a lovely valley surrounded on all sides by high mountains, whose slopes are covered with luxuriant vegetation. A crystal stream meanders through the fertile plains, and runs into a fairy-like lake, upon whose margin there are little groups of arborescent ferns and palms. The whole valley has the appearance of a rich garden, and we regard its varied beauties with rapturous admiration.
As we look around we fail to discover any trace of man—no temple, palace, nor hut bears witness to the existence of a being capable of appreciating the charms of which nature has been so prodigal. We are profound egotists, and think that everything beautiful must have been created for our especial advantage. Here, however, trees spring up though there be no woodman to hew them down, fruits ripen though there be none to gather them, and the stream flows though there be no mill to set in motion; in fact, the age of man has not yet dawned upon the earth.
We have already seen some of the weird inhabitants of the Old World; this valley is the favourite haunt of another and a still more remarkable
