attacked each other with such fury, with such rapid changes of color
from gray to green and from green to brown, with such unexpected
mutations of shape from long and slender to short and squat, with such
sudden dartings out and angry flamings of the transparent membrane
beneath the throat, with such swift springs and flights and glancings
to and fro, as were wonderful to see. It seemed as though both must
succumb to the fierce scratchings and clawings; and when at last one
got the entire head of his adversary in his mouth and proceeded
deliberately to chew it up, we thought that the last act in the tragedy
was at hand. The Small Boy made a stealthy step forward with a view to
a capture, when, presto! change! two chameleons with heads intact were
calmly gazing down upon us with that placid look of their kind which
seemed to assure us that fighting was the last act of which they were
capable.

That day, too, is memorable for the charming scenes it brought us,
impossible for the pencil to reproduce with all their sweet
accessories. We have found the ford at last, where the blue ribbon of
the stream lies across the white sand of our road. The prairie
stretches out broad and green with many circular islets of tree-mounds
in the ocean-like expanse. The winding road beyond the ford leads,
between cultivated fields on one side and the tree-bordered prairie on
the other, up to the low horizon, where soft white thunderheads are
heaped in the hazy blue. The tinkling of cow-bells comes sweetly over
the sea of grass; slow wavelets sob softly in the sedges of the stream;
fish glance through the water; a duck flies up on swiftly-whirring
wing. A great moss-draped live-oak leans over the stream, and the
perfume of the tender grapes which crown it floats toward us on the
air.