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Baker, Samuel White, Sir, 1821-1893

"Eight Years' Wanderings in Ceylon"

These dark and
dangerous pools are walled in by hoary-looking rocks, beneath
which the pent-up water dives and boils in subterranean caverns,
until it at length escapes through secret channels, and reappears
on the opposite side of its prison-walls; lashing itself into
foam in its mad frenzy, it forms rapids of giddy velocity through
the rocky bounds; now flying through a narrowed gorge, and
leaping, striving and wrestling with unnumbered obstructions, it
at length meets with the mighty fall, like death in a madman's
course. One plunge! without a single shelf to break the fall,
and down, down it sheets; at first like glass, then like the
broken avalanche of snow, and lastly! - we cannot see more - the
mist boils from the ruin of shattered waters and conceals the
bottom of the fall. The roar vibrates like thunder in the rocky
mountain, and forces the grandeur of the scene through every
nerve.
No animal or man, once in those mysterious pools, could ever
escape without assistance. Thus in years post, when elk were not
followed up in this locality, the poor beast, being hard pressed
by the hounds, might have come to bay in one of these fatal
basins, in which case, both he and every bound who entered the
trap found sure destruction.


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