There he often goes to watch the game and the goats, which come to drink at the brook.

Above it rises the table-land, with difficulty scaled by him on the day of his arrival, and from whence he became convinced that he had landed on an island.

This table-land, he has named _The Discovery_.
The two streams which meander over his lawn, and before his grotto, have also received names.

This, commissioned to feed the fish-pond, and which gently warbles through the grass, he calls _The Linnet_; the other, interrupted by little cascades, and whose course is more rapid and impetuous, he calls _The Stammerer_.
He has now destroyed the noxious animals, administered government, opened ways of communication, given a name to every part of his island.

How many great rulers have done no more! But his labors have not been confined to his fish-pond, his bed of water-cresses, his hunting, fishing, building, felling of trees; it has become necessary to procure that essential element of civilization, of comfort, fire.
What could the opulent proprietor of this enchanting abode do without fire?
Is it not necessary, if he would open a passage through the dense woods?
Is it not indispensable to his kitchen?
Some of his trees, it is true, afford fruits in abundance; but most of these fruits are of a dry and woody nature; besides, young and vigorous, easily acquiring an appetite by labor and exercise, can he content himself with a dinner which is only a dessert?
Surrounded with fishes of all colors, with feathered and other game, must he then be reduced to dispute with the agoutis, their maripa-nuts?
He reflects; armed with a bit of iron, he strikes the flinty rocks of the mountains, to elicit from them useless sparks.