MayunsooK Valley 229 



arch, will in another half-century or more tumble also 

 into the ravine. One large pine tree and many bushes, 

 growing on this leaning tower, are plying their roots 

 deeply in the marble fissures, and are slowly splitting 

 the rock asunder. I have designated this pile Captain 

 Skipper's Monument, in memory of him who recorded 

 the last evidences of the Beaver Dam across this stream. 

 Tradition says that the beavers labored centuries be- 

 fore the white man arrived in the Mayunsook Valley, 

 building better than they realized, since they erected 

 a dam which stopped the rippling flow of Hudson 

 Brook. Originally, this stream flowed nearer the sur- 

 face of the Natural Bridge. It is believed by some 

 that the dam clogged the driftwood from the domes, 

 and thus set the waters back. The force of the eddies, 

 combined with the chemical action of the waters whirl- 

 ing among the logs and rocks, eroded dimples in the 

 soft marble, until they wore the present archway 

 through. 



I followed down the bed of the stream, stepping 

 from rock to rock easily, until I reached the path far 

 below the Marble Quarry, and entered The Beaver, a 

 little village where every one works like the small 

 animals for which it is named. I was now near the 

 junction of Hudson Brook and the Mayunsook; and 

 not wishing to return to the City until sunset, I scram- 

 bled up the slippery sides of the hemlock hills above 

 the little river. With the echo of the cavern's tumult- 

 uous roar still in my ears, I now heard, in pleasant 

 contrast, the distant gentle murmur of that flowing 



