not to continue. The river, too, is still rising, and this wind will
increase."

The rising river did not alarm us in the least, but the matter of being
left high and dry by a sudden subsidence of the waters might be serious,
and we had consequently laid in an extra stock of provisions. For the
rest, the officer's prophecy held true, and the wind, blowing down a
perfectly clear sky, increased steadily till it reached the dignity of a
westerly gale.

It was earlier than usual when we camped, for the sun was a good hour or
two from the horizon, and leaving my friend still asleep on the hot
sand, I wandered about in desultory examination of our hotel. The
island, I found, was less than an acre in extent, a mere sandy bank
standing some two or three feet above the level of the river. The far
end, pointing into the sunset, was covered with flying spray which the
tremendous wind drove off the crests of the broken waves. It was
triangular in shape, with the apex upstream.

I stood there for several minutes, watching the impetuous crimson flood
bearing down with a shouting roar, dashing in waves against the bank as
though to sweep it bodily away, and then swirling by in two foaming
streams on either side. The ground seemed to shake with the shock and
rush while the furious movement of the willow bushes as the wind poured
over them increased the curious illusion that the island itself actually
moved. Above, for a mile or two, I could see the great river descending
upon me: it was like looking up the slope of a sliding hill, white with
foam, and leaping up everywhere to show itself to the sun.

The rest of the island was too thickly grown with willows to make