The Vale of Cedars; Or, The Martyr

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Excerpt from The Vale of Cedars: Or the Martyr

Panting, breathless, almost exhausted, he reached the summit, and before him yawned a chasm, dark, fathomless, as if nature in some wild convulsion had rent the rock asu n der. The level ground on which he stood was barely four feet square; behind him sloped the most precipitous side of the crag, devoid of tree or bush, and slippery from the con stant moisture that formed a deep black pool at its base. Stanley hazarded but one glance behind, then looked stea dily forward, till his eye seemed accustomed to the width of the chasm, which did not exceed three feet. He fixed his hold firmly on a blasted trunk growing within the chasm; It shook - gave way - another moment and he would have been lost; but in that moment he loosed his hold, clasped both hands above his head, and successfully made the leap aware only of the immense effort by the exhaustion which followed compelling him to sink down on the grass, deprived even of energy to look around him.

So marvellous was the change of scenery on which his eyes unclosed, that he started to his feet, bewildered. A gra dual hill, partly covered with rich meadow grass, and partly with corn, diversified with foliage, sloped downwards, leading by an easy descent to a small valley, where orange and lime trees, the pine and chestnut, palm and cedar, grew in beauti ful luxuriance. On the left was a small dwelling, almost hid den in trees. Directly beneath him a natural fountain threw 1ts sparkling showers on beds of sweet-scented and gayly colored flowers. The hand of man had very evidently aided nature in forming the wild yet chaste beauty of the scene.