I lingered till the day dawned in eastern Asia, and after a short repose again entered on my wanderings. I followed the chains of mountains, through the two Americas, some of the highest elevations known in our globe. I trod slowly and prudently from height to height, now over flaming volcanos, and now over snowy cupolas. I was often almost breathless with weariness, but I reached the Elias mountain and sprung to Asia across Behring's Straits. I pursued the western coast along its numerous windings, and endeavoured to ascertain by special observation which of the islands in the neighbourhood were accessible to me. From the Malacca peninsula my boots took me to Sumatra, Java, Balli, and Lamboc. I endeavoured, often with peril, and always in vain, to find a north-west passage over the inlets and the rocks with which the ocean is studded, to Borneo and the other islands of the Eastern Archipelago--but I was obliged to abandon the hope. I sat down at last on the farthest verge of Lamboc, and turning my eyes to the south and east, I wept as if within the grates of a prison, that I could proceed no farther. New Holland, {112} that extraordinary country, so essentially necessary to understanding the philosophy of the earth, and its sun-embroidered dress, the vegetable and the animal world; and the South Sea with its Zoophyte islands, were interdicted to me; and thus everything on which I would have gathered together and erected my hopes was condemned to be left a mere fragment, even in its very origin. O, my Adalbert! such is the reward for all the labours of man! In the coldest winter of the southern hemisphere I have stood on Cape Horn, meditating on the two hundred paces, or thereabouts, which divided me from New Holland and Van Diemen's Land--careless about the means of returning, and indifferent even though that strange land should lie over me like the cover of my bier. I attempted to cross the polar glaciers towards the west, and, with foolishly daring yet desponding steps, to pass upon the floating ice, braving the frost and the waves. In vain--I have never yet been in New Holland. I returned again to Lamboc--again I sat myself on the outer verge--my face turned to the south and east, and wept again, as if at the fast-closed iron-window of my prison. {Schlemihl using the boots: p113.jpg} I rose up at last from this spot, and with a dejected heart journeyed to the interior of Asia. I hastened onwards, perceiving the day break towards the west, and at night reached my before-described abode in Thebes, which I had just looked into the previous afternoon.