never paid anybody except in his own I O U's, which were a sort of bank-note without the water-mark.

A statue was, however, erected to him by an admiring public in the Stalactite Gallery, where it is still standing; and as far as we can judge of a statue in the absence of the head and shoulders, a most excellent likeness.

And now we mortals have to stoop painfully for some distance along a depressed passage, where the original inhabitants had, doubtless, no sort of difficulty in gliding, and by the side of the stream which still traverses the palace from end to end, at this time shallow enough, except in particular spots, and many feet below the marble water-line which marks upon the walls what its depth has been wont to be; a solemn, melancholy sound it ever makes, 'low on the sand, and loud on the stone,' as though it bewailed its banished indwellers.

At last, and two hundred and sixty feet from the old cave, we arrive at the Gothic hall, of enormous length, and with groined and lofty ceiling. At one end of it is the splendid throne of the queenmother, glittering with diamonds, with an

unex

Into what dismay and terror the royal household was thrown by this catastrophe, we can imagine, from the awful sounds which were heard from within at the time of the accident, but we shall not describe. We would rather be accurate than ever so poetical, and we confine ourselves only to those matters of which we have a certain knowledge. We ourselves did not enter the palace until long after its inhabitants had left it, but not a thing has been removed from the place where it was found at the period of their flight. Immediately upon setting foot upon the fairy side of the old cave, we find ourselves in the Stalactite Gallery. There lie the frosted silver cushions, with their pillows and footstools of the same material, and having-as it seems to us-the very impression which the princess must have left upon them when she swam away with her maidens through what little water remained. There stands the glittering little Gothic structure, only wanting the porch to complete it, and with a steeple of delicate spar which needs no peal of bells, insomuch as itself returns, to the slightest touch, the sweetest bell-music imaginable. On the left hand, a little further on, are proofs of the housewifely care of the good queen, in fleeces of silvery wool and the ebony spoke of a spinning-wheel; a turkey's head is all that remains of her well-ordered larder; but her favourite bee-hive of frosted silver lies on its stalactite shelf, and her dark rich honeycombs are ranged beneath it. Beyond is the little counting-house, with a watery abyss close by, into which the sporting monarch levanted upon the very first alarm, leaving in his haste his jockey-cap, also of frosted silver, upon the brink of it, where it now stands. A passage leads off, through water, to the left, as yet untrodden by mortal foot, up which the princess must have fled, for we can swear to her crystal slipper dropped at the entrance. Presently, we come to a water-fall, up which, when they were young, many a generation of the water-fairy family must have loved to leap, with that torso of the old bankrupt king beside it of which we have already spoken. Here, too, are crystal pillars separated in the centre, but still standing, the one half rising up from the marble floor to meet the other, depending from the vaulted ceiling-stalagmite and stalactite which proves what little real necessity there was for their being erected. Besides these, crystallised airplants as they seem-hang everywhere from the roof, to which they are attached by a number of delicate silver icicles, which, when lighted up, have the prettiest and most magical effect.

she escaped with her household goods; in the right centre is the magnificent organ, formed of thin plates of silver spar, whose notes, awakened even by a mortal hand, are still most ravishing; in the left, and opposite-where he built it, perhaps, for the purpose of annoying his sister at her anthems-is the prince's skittle-alley, dry, and with three of the pins still standing. On both sides of the hall are various chambers filled with gleaming spar, transparent, and tapering perpendicularly from the summit, or branching into shrubberies of coral-work. From above depend numbers of sparkling chandeliers of stalactite, which are multiplied by mirrors of limpid water ingeniously placed beneath them; and below, there is a noiseless carpet of silver sand. A noble archway leads hence into the Alhambra Gallery, which, from the circumstance of it having been so long unpaid for, joined to that of its similarity to the Moorish court built by our own architect at Sydenham, bore the name of Owing Jones. The lofty roof, which is beautifully tesselated with intersecting lines of white marble, after extending, without a single pillar to support it, for a very great distance, suddenly sinks to a mere vaulted passage, between two and three feet in height, along which mortals have to crawl upon wooden clogs provided for that purpose. This is called the Cellar Gallery; but there is not a vestige of bin or bottle left to account for the designation; and this is the more to be regretted, as the travelling here upon all-fours is so laborious as to demand some kind of stimulant. When we have almost made up our minds to become semicircular for the rest of our lives, the roof rises unexpectedly to an enormous altitude, and a man would be enabled to straighten himself though he should stand thirty feet in his shoes. We are now in what was evidently the great chamber of audience, and it is the last in the palace to which we shall be able to penetrate. A grand, stern justice-hall it is, surrounded with objects of awe rather than of beauty. Upon the huge sombre walls are written mysterious Runic characters; and from the roof hang dusky chandeliers of stalactite, which shed a doubtful light over the scene. now two thousand horizontal feet from the entrance of the palace, and half as many feet perpendicular from the upper air! It is indeed Ingleborough Within, and yet we have probably not seen one-tenth of the wonders of this fairy home. A low archway leads from the hall into water, and darkness, and space, along which adventurous mortals have swum and struggled for several hundred yards further, and still have been far from finding the places whither the banished race have betaken themselves. That they are within there, somewhere, is all we must be content to know.

We are

And now we must return along the splendid succession of hall and corridor, into daylight. The sun gleams brightly enough upon herb and leaf, upon rock and downland, but it meets with no

A MIGRATORY ROSE. STRANGE as the heading of this paper may appear to the reader, the flower is nevertheless an entity-a thing that exists, and may be handled; a plant almost as regular as the swallow in its flittings to and fro; one that travels many miles annually; and, what is more, a fashionable one-resorting to the sea-side during the hottest season, to indulge in a swim among the cool billows of the Mediterranean. The name of this remarkable vegetable phenomenon is Anastatica hierochuntica among the botanists; the Rose of Jericho with the unlearned.

Very many superstitions are connected with this extraordinary plant in the minds of Bedouins and other Arab tribes. The ancients attributed miraculous virtues to the Rose of Jericho. Dispensing with the notions of both, however, there remains to us quite a sufficient charm about this apparently insignificant shrub, which seldom attains six inches in height, to apologise for introducing the subject to our readers.

To behold this little rose, it is not necessary to tell you to go to Jericho;' no such uncomplimentary journey is required. In the arid wastes of Egypt, by the borders of the Gaza desert, in Arabia's wilderness of sands, on the roofs of houses and among rubbish in Syria, abundant specimens are to be met with. But, like many other things of insignificant exterior, few pause to look upon or handle this wayside shrub, which nevertheless carries with it a lesson and a moral.

By the laws of germination, there are, we are told, these three things necessary for a plant-humidity, heat, and oxygenised air. The first of them is indispensable, inasmuch as without it the grain or seed would not swell, and without swelling, could not burst its shell or skin; and heat, in union with water, brings various gases to young plants-especially oxygen-which are necessary for its existence.

With these facts before us, and a knowledge that rain seldom falls in most places where the Rose of Jericho thrives, how are we to account for the extraordinary circumstance of this plant being periodically abundant and flowering at precisely the same season year after year, when, by the acknowledged laws of germination, there has been that succour wanting which is indispensable to propagate vegetation? Now appears the most remarkable and most direct interposition of nature for her offspring—an interposition little short of miraculous, and, indeed, apparently so fabulous as to be unworthy of record. But the fact has been established beyond doubt that, for its own purposes, this little plant performs annual journeys over a large extent of country, and into the ocean, whence, at a stated period, it, or rather its offspring, returns to the original haunts, takes root, thrives, and blossoms.

In the height of spring, when nature casts her brilliant vesture, set with flowers and flowerets of a hundred varied hues, over the fertile valleys and hills of Syria and part of Palestine; when every breeze is laden with rich incense from orange groves or honeysuckle dells, then unheeded, amidst the rich profusion of vegetation, or isolated amid the desert sands, blossoms the tiny Rose of Jericho. On house-tops, where the sun's fierce rays rend crevices -on dust-heaps, where half-starved wretched curs prowl and dig for food or a resting-place-where

of man nor beast has ever left imprint on the broiling sand, there sprouts the wonderful Anastatica hierochuntica. When summer has fairly set in, and flowering shrubs have ceased to blossom-about the same season of the year that Mr Bull and his family are meditating a month's trip to the seaside for fresh breezes and sea-bathing, when the whole house is turned topsy-turvy in the pleasurable excitement of packing for the month's holiday-the Rose of Jericho begins to shew symptoms of a migratory disposition also. How astonished Mr Brown would be if his gardener rushed in with the startling intelligence that some favourite rose-bush or other plant in the garden had evinced sudden signs of restlessness, and, after a few preliminary efforts, had quietly taken itself off for the season!

Hadji Ismail, the Bedouin camel-driver, who witnesses this phenomenon annually, encountering scores of migratory Anastatica hierochuntica, simply pauses to stroke his prolific beard and fresh charge his pipe, while he pours into the eager ears of some untravelled novice legends about this wonderful rose

legends replete with fairy romance, in which almost invariably a certain unmentionable gentleman comes in for a volley of invectives, as being the instigator of this mysterious freak of nature.

The first symptom the Rose of Jericho gives of an approaching tour is the shedding of all her leaves; the branches then collapse, apparently wither, and roll themselves firmly into the shape of a ball. Like the fairies that travelled in nut-shells, this plant ensconces itself in its own framework of a convenient shape, size, and weight for undertaking the necessary journey. Not long has the flower assumed this shape when strong land-breezes sweep over the land, blowing hot and fiercely towards the ocean. In their onward course, these land-winds uproot and carry with them the bulbs or framework of our rose; and, once uprooted, these are tossed and blown over many and many a dreary mile of desert sand, till they are finally whirled up into the air, and swept over the coast into the ocean.

Soon after the little plant comes into contact with the water, it unpacks again, unfolds itself, expands its branches, and expels its seeds from the seedvessels. Then, I presume, the mother-plant finishes her career, or is stranded a wreck upon the sea-beach. However this may be, it seems evident that the seeds, after having been thoroughly saturated with water, are brought back by the waves, and cast high and dry upon the beach. When the westerly winds set in with violence from the sea, they carry these seeds back with them, scattering them far and wide over the desert, and among inhabited lands; and so surely as the spring-time comes round will the desolate borders of the desert be enlivened by the tiny blossoms of the Rose of Jericho.

OÇEOLA:

A ROMANCE.

CHAPTER LXXVI.-FALSE ALARM.

THE significant phrase at once put a period to my reflections. Believing the savages to be in sight, I spurred towards the front. Suddenly and simultaneously the horsemen had drawn bridle and halted. A few who had been straggling from the path now hurried up and ranged themselves closer to the main body, as if for protection. Others who had been riding carelessly in the advance were seen galloping back. It was from these last the cry of Indyens' had come, and several of them still continued to repeat it.

'Indyuns?' cried Hickman, interrogatively, and with an air of incredulity; whar did ye see 'em ? '

"Yonder,' responded one of the retreating horsemen -in yon clump o' live-oaks. It's full o' them.' 'I'll be dog-goned if I b'lieve it,' rejoined the old hunter with a contemptuous toss of the head. 'I'll lay a plug o' Jeemes's river, it war stumps you seed! Indyuns don't shew 'emselves in timmer like this hyar-specially to sech verdunts as you. Y'ull hear 'em afore you see 'em, I kalklate.'

'But we heard them,' replied one; 'we heard them calling out to one another.'

'Bah!' exclaimed the hunter; 'y'ull hear 'em diff'rent from that, I guess, when you gits near enough. It'll be the crackin' o' thar rifles y 'ull hear first. Dog-gone the Indyun's thar. "Twar a coon or a catbird ye've heern screamin'. I know'd ye'd make a scamper the fust thing as flittered afore ye.

Stay whar yez are now,' continued he, in a tone of authority-jest stay whar yez are a bit.'

So saying, he slipped down from his saddle, and commenced hitching his bridle to a branch.

'Come, Jim Weatherford,' he added, addressing himself to his hunter-comrade, 'you come along we'll see whether it be Indyuns or stumps thet's gin these fellers sech a dog-goned scare.'

Weatherford, anticipating the request, had already dropped to the ground; and the two, having secured their horses, rifle in hand, slunk silently off into the bushes.

The rest of the party, now gathered closely together, sat still in their saddles to await the result.

There was but slight trial of our patience; for the two pioneers were scarcely out of sight, when we heard their voices ringing together in loud peals of laughter.

This encouraged us to advance. Where there was so much merriment, there could be but little danger; and without waiting for the return of the scouts, we rode forward, directing our course by their continued cachinnations.

An opening brought both of them in view. Weatherford was gazing downward, as if examining some tracks; while Hickman, who saw us coming up, stood with extended arm pointing to some straggling woods that lay beyond.

We cast our eyes in the direction indicated: we observed a number of half-wild horned cattle, that, startled by the trampling of our troop, were scampering off through the woods.

Now!' cried the hunter triumphantly, thar's yur Indyuns! Ain't they a savage consarn? Ha, ha, ha!'

Every one joined in the laugh, except those who had given the false alarm.

'I know'd thar war no Indyuns,' continued the alligator-hunter, that ain't the way they'll make thar appearance. Y'ull hear 'em afore you sees 'em: an' jest one word o' device to you greenhorns, as don't know a red Indyun from a red cow: let someb'dy, as diz know, go in the devance, an' the rest o' ye keep well thegither; or I'll stake high on't thet some o' yez'll sleep the night 'ithout har on yur heads.'

All acknowledged that Hickman's advice was sage and sound. The hint was taken; and leaving the two hunters henceforth to lead the pursuit, the rest drew more closely together, and followed them along the trail.

It was evident the marauders could not be far in advance of us; this we knew from the hour at which they had been seen retreating from the settlements. After my arrival on the plantation, no time had been lost-only ten minutes spent in preparations and altogether there was scarcely an hour's difference between the times of our starting. The fresh trail confirmed the fact-they could not be a league ahead of us, unless they had ridden faster than we; but that would have been impossible, encum

bered as they were with their black captives, whose large tracks-here and there distinctly perceptible— shewed that they were marching afoot. Of course their captors would be detained in getting these forward; and in this lay chances of overtaking them.

There were but few who feared for the result, I should we be able to come up with the enemy. The white men were full of wrath and revenge; and this precluded all thoughts of fear. Besides, we could tell by their trail that the Indians scarcely outnumbered us. Not above fifty appeared to constitute the band. No doubt they were able warriors, and our equals man to man; but those who had volunteered to assist me were also of the 'true grit'-the best men of the settlement for such a purpose. No one talked of going back; all declared their readiness to follow the murderers even to the heart of the Indian territory, even into the 'cove' itself.

The devotion of these men cheered me; and I rode forward with lighter heart-lighter with the prospect of vengeance, which I believed to be near.

CHAPTER LXXVII.

A 'SPLIT TRAIL.'

It was not so near as we anticipated. Pressing forward as fast as our guides could lead us, we followed the trail for ten miles. We had hoped to find revenge at half the distance.

The Indians either knew that we were after them, or, with their wonted craft, were marching rapidly, under suspicion of pursuit. After the committal of such horrid atrocities, it was natural for them to suppose they should be pursued.

Evidently they were progressing as fast as we— though not faster.

Though the sun was broiling hot, sap still oozed from the boughs they had accidentally broken-the mud turned up by their horses' hoofs, as the guides expressed it, had not yet crusted over,' and the crushed herbage was wet with its own sap, and still procumbent.

'Jest half a hour ahead,' remarked old Hickman, as he rose erect after examining the tracks for the twentieth time-' jest half a hour-dog darn 'em! I never know'd red-skins to travel so fast afore. Thar a streakin' it like a gang o' scared bucks, an' jest 'bout now thar clouts are in a putty consid❜able sweat, an' some o' thar duds is stannin' at an angle o' forty-five, I reckon.'

A peal of laughter was the reply to this sally of the guide.

'Not so loud, fellers-not so loud,' said he, interrupting the laughter by an earnest wave of his hand. 'By Jeroozalim, th'ull hear ye; an' if they do, th'ull be some o' us 'ithout scalps afore sundown. For your lives, keep still as mice-not a word, or we'll be heern: thar as sharp-eared as thar own wolf-dogs; an' darn me if I b'lieve thar more 'n half a mile ahead o' us.'

The guide once more bent himself over the trail; and after a short reconnaissance of the tracks, repeated his last words with more emphasis.

'No, by! not more'n half a mile. Hush, boys; keep as quiet as 'possums, an' I promise ye we'll tree the varmints in less 'n a hour. Hush!'

Obedient to the injunctions, we rode forward, as silently as it was possible for us to proceed on horseback.

We strove to guide our horses along the softer borders of the path, to prevent the thumping of their hoofs. No one spoke above a whisper; and even then there was but little conversation, as each was earnestly gazing forward, expecting every instant to see the bronzed savages moving before us.

At length there came twilight. Short it was-as is usual in southern latitudes-though, on that eve, to me it appeared long and tardy in passing away. Darkness followed; and once more springing to our saddles, I found relief in motion.

no other mode of march could be adopted. Our party was thus strung out into a long line, here and there curving with the sinuosities of the path, and gliding like some monstrous serpent among the trees.

CHAPTER LXXIX.

GROPING AMONG THE TIMBER.

At intervals the guides were at fault; and then the whole line was forced to halt and remain motionless. Several times both Hickman and Weatherford were puzzled as to the direction they should take: they had lost the points of the compass, and were bewildered.

Happily, our fears proved groundless; and, after half-an-hour's silent marching, we reached the other side of the savanna, and drew up under the shadowy

trees.

It was scarcely possible we could have been observed. If the Indians had left spies behind them, the darkness would have concealed us from their view. We had made no noise by which our approach could have been discovered, unless their sentinels had been placed at the very point where we re-entered the woods. We saw no signs of any, and we conjectured that none of the band had lingered behind.

We congratulated one another in whispers; and in like manner deliberated on our future plan of proceeding.

We were still in our saddles, with the intention to proceed further. We should have dismounted upon the spot, and waited for the light of morning to enable us to take up the trail, but circumstances forbade this: our horses were suffering with thirst, and their riders were no better off. We had met with no water since before noon, and a few hours under the burning skies of Florida are sufficient to render thirst intolerable. Whole days in a colder climate would scarcely have an equal effect.

Both horse and man suffered acutely-we could neither sleep nor rest without relief: water must be reached before a halt could be made.

We felt keen hunger as well, for scarcely any provision had been made for the long march; but the pangs of this appetite were easier to be endured. Water would satisfy us for the night, and we resolved to ride forward in search of it.

In this dilemma, the experience of our two guides promised relief. They had once made a huntingexcursion to the savanna we had crossed. It was in the times when the tribes were friendly, and white men were permitted to pass freely through the reserve. They remembered a pond, at which, upon that occasion, they had made their temporary encampment. They believed it was not far distant from the spot where we had halted. It might be difficult to find it in the darkness; but to suffer or search for it were our only alternatives.

The latter of course was adopted; and once more allowing Hickman and Weatherford to pioneer the way, the rest of us rode silently after.

We moved in single file, each horse guided by the one that immediately preceded him: in the darkness,

After carrying on these singular manoeuvres for a period of several minutes, he turned to his comrade with an exclamation that betokened surprise.

'Dog-gone my cats, Jim,' said he, speaking in an under-tone, 'these woods are altered since you an' I wur hyar: what the ole scratch kin be the matter wi' 'em? The bark's all peeled off, an' thar as dry as punk.'

'I was thinkin' they had a kewrious look,' replied the other; but I s'posed it war the darkness o' the night.'

Ne'er a bit of it: the trees is altered someways, since we war hyar afore. They are broom-pinesthat I reccollects well enough. Let's git a bunch o' the leaves, an' see how they looks.'

Saying this, he reached his hand upward, and plucked one of the long fascicles that drooped overhead. 'Ugh!' continued he, crushing the needles between his fingers, 'I see how it are now: the durnationed worms has been at 'em-the trees are dead.'

'D' yer think thar all dead?' he inquired after a pause, and then advancing a little, he proceeded to examine others.

'Dead as durnation-every tree o' 'em. Wal, we must go by guess-work now; thar's no help for it, boys. Ole Hick kin guide you no furrer. I'm dead beat, an' know no more 'bout the direkshun o' that ere pond than the greenest greenhorn among ye.'

This acknowledgment produced no very pleasant effect. Thirst was torturing all those who heard it. Hitherto trusting that the skill of the hunters would enable us to find water, we had sustained it with a degree of patience. It was now felt more acutely than ever.

'Stay,' said Hickman, after a few moments had elapsed: 'all's not lost that's in danger. If I ain't able to guide you to the pond, I reckon I've got a critter as kin. Kin you, ole hoss?' he continued, addressing himself to the animal he bestrode, a wiry old jade, that Hickman had long been master of— 'kin you find the water? Gee up! ole beeswax, an' let's see if you kin.'

Giving his critter' a kick in the ribs, and at the same time full freedom of the bridle, Hickman once more started forward among the trees. We all followed as before, building fresh hopes upon the instincts of the dumb brute.

We had not proceeded far when it became known that the horse had got scent of the water. His owner alleged that he 'smelt' it, and the latter knew this as well as if it had been his dogs taking up the trail of a deer.