scenes of Pyrenean robber-life,
so faithfully portrayed by the magic pencil of Salvator Rosa.

But drowsiness was fast closing the eyes of poor Cato, and, as the last
chance, we compelled him to walk about, despite his piteous prayers for
repose. It soon became evident that our labour was thrown away, for he
dropped heavily down from between the two men who were supporting him,
and no power could induce him to rise. A heavy stertorous sleep
overwhelmed him, his breath came gradually slower and slower, and about
two hours from the time of the accident, poor Cato passed away,
peacefully and without pain.

Can no antidote be discovered for this virulent poison? Empirics are
common who profess to cure snake-bites, but I doubt if they ever really
succeed. It is beyond all question that in the early days of
Australia, and whilst this beautiful continent was held by Great
Britain as nothing more than a useful place for the safe custody of her
criminal classes, a convict named Underwood discovered a remedy for
snake-bite, and in many cases treated it successfully. The story has
by no means died out in the colonies, of the good old laws of brutal
terrorism, under which, when a bitten man was brought to Underwood, the
latter proceeded to apply his remedy, stimulated by the pleasing threat
of a severe flogging, should his treatment be of no avail. He appears
to have been a man of great firmness of purpose, for he never could be
betrayed into divulging his secret, though many unworthy means were
resorted to for that end. The utmost that he would acknowledge was
that the antidote was common, and that Australians trampled it
under-foot every day of their lives. The way he became acquainted with
the remedy was by accidentally witnessing a fight between a snake and
an iguana. The latter was frequently bitten, and in every case ran to
a certain plant and ate it before renewing the contest, in which it was
ultimately victorious, leaving the serpent dead upon the plain.
Underwood demanded his pardon and liberty as the price of his precious
knowledge, and I believe a mixed commission of military men and
civilians deliberated on the case at Sydney, and decided not to grant
the convict's request. In due time he died, and with him perished his
invaluable secret. It is to be presumed the commission knew what they
were about, but undoubtedly their adverse decision has been a real
misfortune to all those whose lives are passed in a c