“From the forest wilderness,” said he, “where the thorny lianas form a hedge between every tree, where the water-snakes lie in the wet grass, and where man seems to be useless.”
“What did you do there?”
“I looked into the deep river, saw how it rolled from the rocks, and dashed into spray, flew up towards the clouds, and gave form to the rainbow. I saw a buffalo swimming in the stream, but the current bore him down: he drifted onwards with a flock of wild-fowls; they flew away when the water swept over the precipice, but the buffalo was forced to plunge over with it. That pleased me, and I blew such a hurricane that the primeval trees were hurled cracking to the earth, and were crashed to atoms.”
“And have you done nothing else?” asked the old woman.
“I have tumbled head over heels in the Savannahs, I have chased the wild horses, and rattled down the cocoa-nuts. Yes, yes; I have enough to tell about. But one
