114 
THE OREGON NATURALIST. 
melodies which gladden the heart during 
the morning and evening hours. 
Thirty minutes walk brought me to 
the border of a_ beautiful little valley. 
Here I lingered, charmed by the grandeur 
of the scene. The towering firs, the 
branching trees, the brilliant flowers and 
singing birds, the graceful hills and wind- 
ing stream, might justly charm through 
the first hours of day or lull one to rest at 
night. Couid there be anything more 
grand and soul inspiring? 
The birds seemed to call me into the 
deeper wood and 1 moved on. Climbing 
a fence] found a winding path which led 
down the western slope, through thickets 
of sweet-briar and bramble. Delightful 
littie lawns with their blankets of verdure 
skirted the sparkling brook. — Lillies 
delicate and fair, peeped up from the green 
sward, while columbines and bells looked 
out of mossy gilens. Dainty yellow 
mimulus sprinkled the green turf, while 
moss covered logs and rocks added enchant- 
ed wildness to the scene. Rich shrubs 
and graceful alders bent down their slen- 
der branches and kissed the stream that 
rippled and laughed, as it flowed on to 
join the waters of the Willamette. The 
trail led down its border through the 
fields of beauty. Birds sang in the tree- 
tops and lower branches of the thickets 
while in the solitude of the deeper woods, 
the melodious rapture mingled with the 
glorious harmony of earth and sky. As 
] passed on through the brambles and 
groves of small oaks, where the flickering 
sunbeams were failing in broken masses. 
Isaw many of the feathered songsters 
that had apparentiv been calling me hither. 
Oh! -the joy of being with them once 
more. 
(to be continued. ) 
ea 
