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“ One of the most interesting and graphic romances that it has been our lot to read for many a year. * The author transports us to South Africa, as completely as a Judge could to South Asia.
He is equally at home when grappling with the ocean's storm, hunting the wild beasts of the wilderness, or painting with Flemish minuteness, the coorkamer of a Dutch boor at the Cape.”-Atheneum.
“ There was yet untrodden land for the writer of fiction-and the author of MAKANNA is its discoverer. To him we owe a romance of real life, the scene of which is laid in the jungles and deserts of Southern Africa, beyond the confines of the Dutch settlements, where the boor is surrounded by savages, and primitive nature is exhibited in all the sublimity of desolate grandeur. • His pictures of the scenery of Africa are vivid and unique-his eloquent delineations of individual character are life-like and philosophical."-- Atlas.
“ The graphic details of the Dutch Colonists, and the striking delineation of the manners, and superstitions of the savage tribes of the desert, impart such a deep and vivid interest, that we seem to live and breathe in the wilds."-Court Journal.
“This work abounds in interest, and is written in a style of great vigour and elegance."-Sunday Times.
“ The work does not want to be invested with any fictitious interest, and the talent which is visible in its pages is its best recommendation to public favour."-Morning Post.
“We have rarely read a production of deeper interest, of interest sus. tained from the first page to the last.
He is as much at home on the Ocean, and there are many scenes on ship-board equal to the best of the great sea lord, the author of The Spy.'”—New Monthly Magazine.
“ You would pluck out the heart of my mystery."
The shades of coming night were fast wrapping the gorge of St. Vincent's Rocks, through which the Avon, after laving the shores of Clifton, advances towards the sea, in a veil of vague and dim obscurity: a few faint rays yet lingered on the crags that crown with fantastic pinnacles the gray and rugged bastions of the Devil's Reach, but in the dizzy depth beneath all was dusky and
silent as the grave :-it was high tide,—but, of the proud commercial navy of the neighbouring city, not a single sail appeared, while the dying breeze, which still came in sensible breathings from the distant Downs, raised not a ripple on the glassy bosom of the flood; the water too had lost the silvery gleam that shone faintly on its surface only a few moments before, and changing with the fading light, grew dark almost to blackness, when a solitary boat came suddenly in view.
“ Carema, Love !—these late walkings are not to be advised—the river damps hang heavily on the breath ; our way, too, is lonely! -come, Love, we will return.-Ah! dost thou see that boat?-Whence, and what is she?I will tell thee, that, to the understanding eye, that craft appears a stranger, and one of evil token. Mark, how she shoots to her oars, with leap on leap, as if she felt the pulse of life!
The barks of traffic or of