A ^Thousand-Mile Walk 



southward direction by the wildest, leafiest, 

 and least trodden way I could find, promising 

 the greatest extent of virgin forest. Folding my 

 map, I shouldered my little bag and plant 

 press and strode away among the old Ken 

 tucky oaks, rejoicing in splendid visions of 

 pines and palms and tropic flowers in glorious 

 array, not, however, without a few cold shad 

 ows of loneliness, although the great oaks 

 seemed to spread their arms in welcome. 



I have seen oaks of many species in many 

 kinds of exposure and soil, but those of Kentucky 

 excel in grandeur all I had ever before beheld. 

 They are broad and dense and bright green. In 

 the leafy bowers and caves of their long branches 

 dwell magnificent avenues of shade, and every 

 tree seems to be blessed with a double portion 

 of strong exulting life. Walked twenty miles, 

 mostly on river bottom, and found shelter in 

 a rickety tavern. 



September 5. Escaped from the dust and 

 squalor of my garret bedroom to the glorious 

 forest. All the streams that I tasted hereabouts 

 [2] 



