EEING US--HOSPITABLY RECEIVED
BY THE COMMANDANT, BUT VERY INHOSPITABLY BY THE MOSQUITOES.

I should like to draw a picture, though I may succeed but imperfectly,
of the grand scenery amid which I passed my childhood's days.

Far in the west rose upwards in the intense blue sky the snow-capped
peaks of the Cordilleras, or Andes, of South America, with range beyond
range of lofty mountains intervening, the more distant rugged and
barren, the nearer clothed to their summits with trees, glittering
cascades leaping down their side? from rock to rock; while here and
there could be seen the openings of deep glens, at the bottom of which
copious streams came rushing forth, forming the headwaters of the mighty
Orinoco. Palms and other tropical trees surrounded our house, which
stood on a slightly elevated plateau, below which appeared a shining
lake of considerable dimensions fed by the mountain-streams, its waters
finding an outlet at one end, and from whence they flowed in a more
gentle current towards the western branch of the great river. Far to
the east and north extended a vast plain, in some parts covered with
dense forests, in others presenting an arid desert; while beyond were to
be found the wide-stretching llanos of Venezuela, bordered on the south
by the Orinoco.

The region I have described will be seen marked on the map, in the more
northern part of the South American continent. It is, indeed, a grand
country, abounding in valuable trees of various descriptions, and wild
animals and game of all sorts--jaguars, pumas, tapirs, and peccaries;
reptiles innumerable--alligators, anacondas, rattlesnakes; and birds of
various species, from the majestic condor and towering eagle down to the
diminutive humming-bird. But as I shall have to describe all sorts of
curious adventures, in which they and other animals played conspicuous
parts, I will not further particularise them at present.

As I was born in the country, it may be concluded that my father and
mother resided there. To my father, Barry Desmond, might have been
applied those touching lines of the poet Campbell:--

"There came to the beach a poor exile of Erin,
The dew on his thin robe was heavy and chill;
For his country he sighed, when at twilight repairing
To wander alone by the wind-beaten hill.
But the day-star attracted his eyes' sad devotion,
For it rose o'er his own native isle of the ocean,
Where once, in the fire of his youthful emo