It may be deemed extraordinary, that this idea of floating piers has not been more generally adopted. But I suppose the real objection is an inconvenience, to which the method is unavoidably liable, and which we experienced on the present occasion, in passing with our mules and moneyboxes; namely, the variation of the bridge’s altitude, with the rise and fall of the water. This, in the Adour, at spring-tides, is fourteen feet. You must know, the river was now low. The consequence was, that the level of the bridge was considerably beneath the level of the banks on each side; while its two extremities were two boarded slopes, connecting the higher level with the lower. It was a ticklish business, passing these two slopes with our mules four in a string—one of them light, three loaded. In going _down_-hill, to get on the bridge, the mules managed admirably—let them alone for that. Seeing that this part of the process was proceeding satisfactorily, I left an injunction with Senhor Roque, the chief Capataz, not to send on the mules too fast—for this might have led to a jam, which would probably have consigned some of our boxes to the bottom of the Adour—and pushed on for the opposite bank, to be ready to superintend the ascent. This was the real bother, the going _up_-hill. In coming to the rise, which was somewhat abrupt, the first mule of the first string stumbled and fell. The muleteer got him on his legs again—his load happily not unshipped—and, taking him by the head, was about to lead him up. But this, it was clear, wouldn’t do. The beast had sense to see it wouldn’t, and declined moving. It might have answered very well for a single mule; but was no security for the ascent of the other three, that followed in the same category; and, unless all ascended together, we were undone. Under these circumstances, the leading mule, not choosing to compromise himself, refused the ascent. Meanwhile, the other strings of mules came crowding up; and we should soon have had them all of a heap, shouldering one another into the water. It was a nervous moment. I shouted to the muleteer, “_Anda para detraz, homem, e falla_”—(Old fellow, go behind, and speak to them.) “Si, si, Senhor,” said he, catching the idea at once, and promptly adopting it. The moment the mules heard, behind them, the well-known “_árre_” of their driver, they bolted simultaneously; and, scrambling up like cats, soon reached the summit of the slope, and stood on _terra firma_. Thus, though they could not have done it walking, they did it with a run. The other muleteers, as they came up in succession, adopted the same expedient each with his own team; and thus we effected the passage of the Adour, without either jam, crowding, confusion, or capsize.