the shape of a roof. Under this, in your hammock, you may defy the pelting shower, and sleep heedless of the dews of night." In another portion of his narrative he says, "Should you ever wander through these remote and dreary wilds, forget not to carry with thee, bark laudanum, calomel, and jalap, and the lancet. There are no druggist shops here, nor sons of Galen to apply to in time of need. I never go encumbered with many clothes. A thin flannel waiscoat under a check shirt, a pair of trowsers, and a hat, were all my wardrobe; shoes and stockings I seldom had on. In dry weather they would have irritated the feet, and retarded me in the chase of wild beasts; and in the rainy season they would have kept me in a perpetual state of damp and moisture. I eat moderately, and never drink wine, spirits, or fermented liquors in any climate. This abstemiousness has ever proved a faithful friend; it carried me triumphant through the epidemia at Malaga, where death made such havoc about the beginning of the present century; and it has since befriended me in many a fit of sickness, brought on by exposure to the noonday sun, to the dews of night, to the pelting shower, and unwholesome food."
Mr. Waterton subsequently made a third journey in Guiana, besides a tour in remote parts of the United States, the narratives of which are equally interesting. Notwithstanding his attacks of fever, he is of opinion that the dangers of travelling in these countries have been greatly exaggerated, and are mostly dreaded, because unknown to those who remain at home. In prefaces to the volumes of essays on natural history, published by him since his final return to England, he has given an interesting sketch of his strange adventurous life.
