A Thousand-Mile Walk 



with the trees in the one great bedroom of the 

 open night. 



September 12. Awoke drenched with moun 

 tain mist, which made a grand show, as it 

 moved away before the hot sun. Passed Mont 

 gomery, a shabby village at the head of the 

 east slope of the Cumberland Mountains. Ob 

 tained breakfast in a clean house and began the 

 descent of the mountains. Obtained fine views 

 of a wide, open country, and distant flanking 

 ridges and spurs. Crossed a wide cool stream 

 [Emory River], a branch of the Clinch River. 

 There is nothing more eloquent in Nature than 

 a mountain stream, and this is the first I ever 

 saw. Its banks are luxuriantly peopled with 

 rare and lovely flowers and overarching trees, 

 making one of Nature s coolest and most hos 

 pitable places. Every tree, every flower, every 

 ripple and eddy of this lovely stream seemed 

 solemnly to feel the presence of the great Cre 

 ator. Lingered in this sanctuary a long time 

 thanking the Lord with all my heart for his 

 goodness in allowing me to enter and enjoy it. 

 [30] 



