246 Musings by Canip-Fire and Wayside 



snow-white peak rising spotless and dazzling in the 

 sun. This is the top of the scenery. Of course we 

 saw the rougher side of the land from the sea — 

 rocks, precipices, sea-worn caverns, etc. But the 

 lower half of the scenery, inland, is always of high, 

 but gracefully rounded, hills, smooth in outline as 

 eggs, and of a fresh, spring-like green. They are 

 usually broken somewhere by precipices — are now 

 as thick with flowers as a clover-field. They are 

 deceptive, however, as to steepness. You cannot 

 walk up one of them, but must climb with hands 

 and feet out of the ravine. The hill rounds more 

 to a level higher up. Another feature. The moss 

 will grow on a precipice that has a slight incline, 

 and with its strong roots hold the soil from sliding 

 off the rocks, though sometimes an acre or two will 

 let go and fall. The final feature is everywhere 

 great beauty, the white streams from the snow 

 threading their way with many a bend, and leaping 

 and splashing down along their margins of green 

 moss. One can see the stream emerging from the 

 snow and follow its whole course at a glance to 

 where it takes its final leap into the sea. 



Coming into the timber region we leave the 

 smooth, high, mossy, and flowery hills, and now 

 have the vast and seemingly inexhaustible forests 

 of spruce, chiefly, but with beginnings of fir, cedar, 

 and birch. The timber line between trees and snow 

 now becomes conspicuous on the mountain-sides. 

 It is not sharp. The trees thin out in the snow, 



