must no doubt form a splendid cascade.  Now a person could stand on a vast boulder of granite and look down at the waters, as they fell in little sprays from the springs that supplied the spot; the small streams rushing out from among the fissures of the broken rocks, and all descending into a fine basin below.  To Alec’s eyes was this romantic scene displayed.  The rocks above, below, and around, were fringed and decked with various vegetations; shrubs and small trees ornamented nearly the whole of the surrounding rocks, amongst which the native fig-tree, Ficus platypoda, was conspicuous.  It must have been a very pretty place.  I could hear the water rushing and splashing, but could not see anything.  It appeared also that the water ran out of the basin below into the creek channel, which goes on its course apparently through or into a glen.  I describe this peculiar freak of nature from what Alec told me; I hope my description will not mislead others.  Soon after we found that this was the case, as we now entered an exceedingly rough and rocky glen full of water—­at least so it appeared to Alec, who could see nothing but water as far down as he could look.  At first the water was between three and four feet deep; the farther we went the deeper the water became.  Could any one have seen us we must have presented a very novel sight, as the camels got nearly up to their humps in water, and would occasionally refuse to go on; they would hang back, break their nose-ropes, and then lie quietly down until they were nearly drowned.  We had to beat and pull them up the best way we could.  It was rather disagreeable for a blind man to slip off a camel up to his neck in cold water, and, lifting up his eyelids with both hands, try to see what was going on.  Having, however, gone so far, we thought it best to continue, as we expected the glen to end at any turn; but the water became so deep that Alec’s riding cow Buzoe, being in water deep enough for her to swim in, if she could swim, refused to go any farther, and thought she would like to lie down.  This she tried, but the water was too deep for her to keep her head above it, and after being nearly smothered she got up again:—­

   “And now to issue from the glen,
    No pathway meets the wand’rers’ ken,
    Unless they climb, with footing nice,
    A far-projecting precipice.”

It would be out of all propriety to expect a camel to climb a precipice; fortunately at a few yards further a turn of the glen showed Alec a place on the southern bank where a lot of rocks had fallen down.  It was with the greatest difficulty we got to it, and with still greater that at last we reached the top of the cliff, and said good-bye to this watery glen.  Our clothes, saddles, blankets, and food were soaked to a pulp.  We could not reach the depot that night, but did so early on the following day.  I called this singular glen in which the camels were nearly drowned, Glen Camel.