OF DENISON UNIVERSITY. 1 9 



Mills. But instead of flowing on gravel as heretofore, it is on a bot- 

 tom, and between banks, of bedded shale, with gravel on the farther 

 side above the shale. While the traveler is pondering over this, he 

 suddenly observes that it is flowing to the right, as it did when he 

 crossed it before, two miles below Bainbridge ; and he knows he has 

 not crossed it twice. He looks on, in the direction toward which he 

 is traveling, and sees the same range of hills on either side bordering 

 a drift-filled valley such as he has been coming along for several miles ; 

 but he is now looking up the stream instead of dow7i it. More puz- 

 zled than ever he leaves the pike and follows the stream which soon 

 curves around to the westward. He thinks this is as it should be 

 until he unexpectedly finds himself on a railway which he does not 

 remember to have seen ; true there was a railway near Bainbridge, 

 but he knows he is not back there ; besides it is not going in the same 

 direction. Presently he sees another railway ; both of them, with 

 the creek, disappear in a narrow gorge which he certainly has not 

 seen before. Next, he notices that the stream is not more than one- 

 fourth as large as it should be. Wondering if he is bewitched, he 

 climbs a hill, looks to the westward, recognizes numerous places he 

 has passed ; looks eaistward and sees the continuation of the valley, 

 but without a sign of water in it. He tries to trace the stream he has 

 iust left; it passes the bridge where he first saw it, wanders through a 

 narrow valley, runs up to a high hill, and apparently stops there. He 

 then walks south across fields, thinking thus to reach the larger stream, 

 and finds himself at the bridge again. He inquires at the mill near 

 by as to the location of Paint creek, and is told with a vague general 

 flourish of the hand in the direction of the setting sun, that it is 

 "up that way." Retracing his steps for weary miles, he finds his 

 lost stream half-way back to Bourneville. Determined not to lose it 

 again, he notes the trend of the current, starts in the same direction 

 closely watching the hills to the south, and is satisfied there is no 

 j)lace it can pass through. He can not see the stream, but he knows it 

 runs along the foot of the hill under those huge elms and sycamores. 

 Soon he finds himself at the foot of the hill near D ; but there is no 

 creek visible— the gravel is piled up against the slope. Uncertain 

 whether to swear or to pray, he walks on and reaches the mill, whose 

 owner eyes him suspiciously. Making further inquiries, he learns 

 that the bridge is over North Fork, which flows into Paint creek about 

 two miles from where he stands. Taking the new direction to the 



