108 AN AFTERNOON BY THE BIVER. 



water's edge. And so it did, down a pleas- 

 ant wooded hillside, whicli an unwonted 

 profusion of bushes and ferns made excep- 

 tionally attractive. At the end of the path 

 a lordly elm and a lordlier buttonwood, both 

 of them loaded with lusty vines (besides 

 clusters of mistletoe, I believe), gave me 

 shelter from the sun while I sat and gazed 

 at the strong eager current of the Tennessee 

 hurrying onward without a ripple. As my 

 foot touched the beach a duck — I could 

 not tell of what kind — sprang out of the 

 water and went dashing off. She had 

 learned her lesson. In the duck's primer 

 one of the first questions is : " What is a 

 man ? " and the answer follows : " Man is 

 a gun-bearing animal." In the treetops a 

 golden warbler and a redstart were singing. 

 Then I heard a puffing of steam, and by and 

 by a tug came round a turn, pushing labori- 

 ously up stream a loaded barge. It was the 

 Ocoee of Chattanooga, and the two or three 

 mariners on board seemed to find the sight 

 of a stranger in that unlooked-for place a 

 welcome break in the monotony of their in- 

 land voyage. 



On the bushy, ferny slope, as I returned. 



