stood beneath it for a moment would have been to be beaten down and swept helplessly away by the waters bubbling and foaming at my feet. But how refreshing and cooling it seemed as I bathed my fevered brow and moistened the handkerchief hastily bound round my bleeding arm; while, though stopped from continuing my pursuit, I knew that it was impossible for the fugitives to proceed, and I waited anxiously for the cessation of the storm. Once there came a lull, but only for a few moments, while the brilliant rose-coloured and violet lightning played around, when down came the rain again, more violently than ever, as though it would never cease. The ravine had been turned into a little river, once again towards which, winding in and out amidst the huge blocks of rock, hundreds of watercourses were hurrying. Now it was black darkness, and nothing visible, and the next moment again flaming swords appeared to cut through the rain, and light up the ravine with every rainbow tint; and still came that deafening mighty rushing sound of the waters, as though I were standing upon the spray-wet rock beneath Niagara. I was standing where a weather-stained mass jutted out from the rocky side and protected me from the heavy fall, but from every jagged and time-worn point around the water streamed down as it leaped and plunged from the mountain side into the ravine. At some early epoch in the world's history, the earth must have divided in some awful internal throe, and then imperfectly closing, have left this long rift forming a watercourse in the rainy season, but in the dry-time merely a stony bed, with here and there a pool. Save where the rains had washed away, and masses of rock had fallen, the sides showed how once they had been torn asunder, and displayed prominence and indentation at every bend. All at once the rain ceased, as if in obedience to an omnipotent command, the black clouds passed over, and the sun shone down into the ravine. But what a sight met my gaze. Already up to my knees, and teeming along with awful velocity, was a mighty clay-stoned river, eddying, foaming, and sweeping round the rock-strewn bed, and bearing with it leaf, branch, and trunk; bushes and masses of grass torn from the gully sides; while large pieces of rock were being moved from their places, or tottered where they stood.