ENVIRONS OF BATH. 299 



the water, and became more distinct as the distance from the water-falls 

 was increased. 



Surely, thought I, the Nightingale must be amongst these numerous 

 musicians, and during the charm which now prevails his notes will be 

 heard more distinctly nearer to the wood; but to get there the river 

 must be crossed. There are two ways of accomplishing this, one 

 of which is to follow the towing-path to a stone bridge a considerable 

 distance down. The other is to turn back and cross over by a ferry a 

 little way above the place where the canal first branches off from the 

 river. The first route is the most attractive, the winding course of the 

 river, skirted on the north side by the rich woods and plantations of 

 Kelston, presenting endless variety of charming views at every turn of the 

 stream; but having already taken the reader in this direction, and as the 

 sun is now nearing the horizon, and will have disappeared before so long a 

 walk as to the bridge and back on the other side to the desired spot, 

 can be accomplished, we will adopt the latter route and haste to the 

 ferry above. This is soon done. The ferry-boat is moored on the 

 Tiverton side, but there is no delay, for at the first summons a lively 

 old woman issues from the house, wipes the washing-suds from her arms, 

 and trips into the boat. This ferry being near the fork of the river and 

 canal, the water is necessarily broader than at other places, and the current 

 of both streams being arrested by the weirs and locks, the surface, unless 

 agitated by wind, is tranquil. On this occasion not a breath of air was 

 stirring, and the water was smooth as glass. The ferry-rope passed 

 rapidly through the old lady's nimble fingers, the boat glided swiftly over 

 the placid stream, and soon returned with me to the Tiverton side. 



The road through the dusty village of Tiverton seemed unusually long, 

 but the fatigue of the walk was amply rewarded upon arriving at the 

 plantation- The sun was still above the horizon, shining with unclouded 

 splendour. A perfect charm prevailed, the plantation rung with every 

 variety of note, Blackbirds and Thrushes were in full song, every now 

 and then a . restless Cuckoo, after shifting from tree to tree, would issue 

 forth and flap his long body over to the Weston side. As the sun grad- 

 ually disappeared below the horizon the tops of the trees retained for some 

 time a golden tinge, slowly lessening to a thin crimson-tinted fringe upon 

 the top of the hill, which passing away, soft twilight crept over the 

 scene. The Blackbird now changes his note to the harsh chirping call to 

 nest, other birds become silent, and the song of the sweetest of all our 

 warblers is heard in perfection, there is no mistaking his "jug, jug." 



After listening for a considerable time, delighted with the wild notes of 

 several Nightingales, as they answered each other from various parts of 

 the plantation, I returned my way back through the village, and was 



