THE THRESHOLD OF THE GODS. 87 
whatever cause, a something like the glamour 
of a dream or of romance had settled down 
upon stream and rocks and trees. An exhila- 
ration like that induced by a salt breeze, more 
refined and subtile, however, took hold on me. 
The motion or the boat was now quite rapid, 
but smooth and noiseless. 
I began to be smpressed with the utter, the 
primeval, the unchanged beauty of the land- 
scape. These woods, locked in by awful 
precipices, this stream, full of dangerous falls, 
had never been troubied by hunters or anglers, 
or naturalists or tourists, nor yet by the insa- 
tiable makers of farms. Pristine power and 
perfectness dwelt here as they did xons ago. 
I looked and saw the smooth, greenish-colored 
bark of the trees, the deep expression of vzant 
vitality in the leaves; I drew into my gratified 
sense the strengthening bouquet of surround- 
ing nature, and then suddenly the inquiry, 
oan what source I cannot say, arose in my 
mind, are the gods still here? At first it was 
a half-idle thought, blown across my mental 
field like a rose petal across a garden; but it 
found a lodgment. I toyed with it and it 
grew. It suited my mood and the mood of 
nature. 
The halcyon flitted on before us, and now, 
far away, like the soft murmur of a breeze, our 
ears caught the pulsating sound of the rapids, 
A deer, bearing young antlers, stood on the 
bank and very steadily eyed us as we passed. 
He did not seem to fear us, his gaze denoting 
only a lively curiosity. Indeed he had no 
cause to fear us, for all thought of the chase 
was far from me, and as for my guide he had 
enough to do caring for the boat. 
