A WEEK ON WALBEN'S BIDGE. 149 



abruptly on tlie further side, and looking 

 almost like an artificial rampart. Beyond 

 me, to my surprise, I heard the hum of 

 cicadas, — seventeen-year locusts, — a sound 

 of which the lower country had for some 

 time been full, but of which, till this mo- 

 ment, I had heard nothing on the Ridge. 



As for the prospect, it was far reaching, 

 but only in one direction, and through open- 

 ings among the trees. Directly before me, 

 some hundreds of feet below, was a piece of 

 road, with a single cabin and a barn ; and 

 much farther away were other cabins, each 

 with its private clearing. Elsewhere the 

 foreground was an unbroken forest. For 

 some time I could not distinguish the Ridge 

 itself from the outlying world. Mountains 

 and hills crowded the hazy horizon, range 

 beyond range. Moving along the rocks, I 

 found a vista through which Chattanooga 

 and Lookout Mountain were visible. An- 

 other change, and a stretch of the Tennessee 

 River came into sight, and, beyond it. Mis- 

 sionary Ridge with its settlements and its 

 two observatories. Evidently I was consid- 

 erably above the level of the Brow ; but 

 whether this was really the top of the moun- 



