SUNSET. — HEART OP THE FOREST. 49 



coiiseqiieiice ; aud its waters are as pure as Nature, in lier 

 own eliosen laboratories in the forest-clad mountains, can 

 produce. It is the natural home for trout, who relish the 

 best thiniis as well as an epicure or the most cultivated 

 aristocrat, — which the trout family is among lishes. 



Everj^ sense was keenly alive to enjoy this unwonted 

 scene, as I sat and half-reclined at my ease in the stern of 

 the boat, while the strong, steady oar-strokes of my guide 

 s\vei>t us out from shore upon the smooth bosom of the 

 water. The morning had l)een l)eautiful,— the approaeh- 

 ing evening was not less so. After his strong and stately 

 course through the sky, the sun, about to depart, seemed to 

 mellow and soften with tenderness tow^ardthe green forests 

 and silvery waters, and I easily fancied he lingered reluct- 

 ant to say good-night to so much loveliness. 1 am sure 

 that with almost a human touch he kissed, with something 

 very like a "good-night!" the lake, and then the timid 

 foliage that crept down to the eastern shore, and then 

 the sturdy, robust forest trees as they climbed u\) the 

 mountains, and at hist the mountain brows themselves. 

 And was he not looking backward, with a little mist in his 

 eye, for one more glance of recognition from his beloved 

 forest children, as he journej'ed on with unabated vigor in 

 his tireless course towards the new morningV 



The stillness of the hour was unbroken by converse. 

 There was so much to receive that I hardly had a thouiiht 

 to utter; and my honest guide, accustomed as he was to the 

 beauty and tender awe of such a scene, in the forest life he 

 had led, and ordinarily unobservant of it, was yet touched 



