her friends. From an apparent calm, nature now awoke, and seemed to be rushing into ruin. As though the north called unto the south, and the west unto the east, the four winds came on to the conflict. Clouds were driven hither and thither in angry velocity, and all seemed to be propelled in directions counter to each other. The tempest soon burst upon them, and on the whole adjacent country, in an unparalleled torrent. Nothing was heard but the crack or roll of thunder, and the roar of winds and waters-nothing seen but the successive blaze of lightning. The said Anna lived until rising somewhat of ninety years, and could remember distinctly, perhaps, eighty-five years, but in all this time she never witnessed such a scene, nor could she relate anything which seemed to raise such sublimity of feeling in her mind as this.

The tempest lay upon them, with unabated force, several hours, nor did it appear to spend itself until the sun was just sinking below the horizon, when he broke in upon drowned nature in all his smiles, and reflected his golden beams upon the black cloud at the east, in the most enchanting manner. This was the moment for Anna to renew her resolve of returning to her family that night, and, contrary to all reasoning and persuasions, she immediately put it in execution. She mounted her horse, and, bidding adieu to her friends, she entered the twelvemile forest, just as the sun took his leave of her. She calculated upon a serene and star-light evening, and the extraordinary instinct of her beast, as

well as her experience in the way, and at the fords. But in regard to the former she was wholly disappointed. The wind soon shifted and rolled the same cloud back again, and the rain re-commenced as the night set in, and the wind ceased. At that season of the year the term of twilight was short; the earth being warm and moistened, evaporation was rapid, and a dense fog arose which soon obstructed vision, and long before she arrived at the fords, she was enveloped in total darkness. Her only guide now was her faithful Narraganset, and the beasts of the forest her companions. She, however, made the best of her circumstances. She entered into conversation with her mare, as was her custom when riding alone; and when her beast stopped suddenly, tossed up her head and snorted at some wild animal crossing the track before her, as was supposed, Anna would exhort her to possess courage, assuring her "that nothing could harm her, for the beasts were mere cowards in the presence of a brave horse," &c. After this manner, the long way to the ford was passed over in Egyptian darkness; nor had the thought once occurred to Anna, that so considerable a river as now rolled before her, would be materially affected by a thunder-storm of a few hours; whereas, so great was the fall of water in this time, that the river, although wide at this place, was bank-full, and pressed on in great rapidity. Nor could the murmur of the waves be heard, by reason of the rain still pouring upon the forest around her. She therefore deter

mined to give the rein to her experienced beast, believing that she would keep the ford, and land her on the opposite shore at the proper place. The horse entered the stream as soon as at the bank, and in a moment lost her foothold of terra firma, and was rolling in the waves at a full swim. Such, however, was Anna's presence of mind, that she made no exertion to rein her beast, but endeavoured simply to retain her seat, which was now under water, while the waves beat with violence against her waist. The faithful beast made for the opposite shore, but, so strong was the current, that she was either carried below the ford, or, in her exertions to resist it, she overacted and ascended above it, where, at one sweep of her fore feet, she struck upon a rock in the bed of the river, which suddenly raised her somewhat from the water forward, but she as soon plunged again, for the rock was cleared the second sweep. This plunge was so deep, that Anna was borne from her pannel by the gravity of the water; but, pitching forward, she seized Narraganset's mane, as she rose, nor quit her grasp until they were both safely landed on the happy shore! Adjusting her clothes, she remounted, and soon found that her beast was in her accustomed track, and in little more than one hour she alighted at the door of her peaceful cabin, where, by her wellknown signal, she broke the slumbers of her husband and babes, and, upon entering, related, in no purer gratitude or greater joy than they experienced in hearing, the result of that adventurous night.

PERILOUS COMBAT.

In the summer of 1822, a poor woman in the environs of Oneille, in the Duchy of Genoa, of the name of Marie Pittaluga, was in a field with three young children, one of whom was at the breast. Suddenly a ferocious wolf, of an enormous size, sprang upon her, and attempted to tear the infant from her arms; the mother at first repelled the furious animal, and immediately placing the infant in the cradle, and the two other children between her legs, she sustained a contest with her terrible assailant; and, having been bitten several times, she at length succeeded in grasping the wolf firmly by the throat, and preventing him from doing the least injury to the children. The husband of this intrepid female, drawn by her cries, and those of the children, hastened to her assistance; but on his appearance, the wolf made an effort, disengaged himself from the woman's grasp, and took to flight.

THE ROCK OF THE MOTHER.

NEAR the confluence of the Atabapo and the Rio Terni, there is a granite hummock that rises on the western bank, near the mouth of the Guasacari; it is called the Rock of the Guahiba Woman, or the Rock of the Mother, Piedra de la Madre. This name was given to it from a singular event, which is related by Humboldt, in his "Travels to the Equinoctial Regions of the New Continent."

"If," says this enterprising traveller, "in these solitary scenes, man scarcely leaves behind him any trace of his existence, it is doubly humiliating for a European to see perpetuated by the name of a rock, by one of those imperishable monuments of nature, the remembrance of the moral degradation of our species, and the contrast between the virtue of a savage and the barbarisms of civilized man!

sava.

"In 1797, the missionary of San Fernando had led his Indians to the mouth of the Rio Guaviare, on one of those hostile incursions which are prohibited alike by religion and the Spanish laws. They found, in an Italian hut, a Guahiba mother with three children, two of whom were still infants. They were occupied in preparing the flour of CasResistance was impossible; the father was gone to fish, and the mother tried in vain to flee with her children. Scarcely had she reached the savannah, when she was seized by the Indians of the mission, who go to hunt men, like the whites and negroes in Africa. The mother and her children were found, and dragged to the bank of the river. The monk, seated in his boat, waited the issue of an expedition, of which he partook not the danger. Had the mother made too violent a resistance, the Indians would have killed her, for everything is permitted when they go to the conquest of souls; and it is children, in particular, they seek to capture, in order to treat them, in the mission, as poitos, or slaves of the Christians. The prisoners were carried to San Fernando, in the hope that the