50 jock's t-ake, 



upon the lips by a hand he could not see, and held his 

 peace. 



At length, sweeping around to the west, shortly after the 

 sun had descended below the mountains, I went on shore 

 to get one look at the heart of the forest. My guide sat on 

 a rock at the water's edge by liis boat drawn up at his side, 

 while I alone entered the dense and now darkening woods. 

 There was something fearful in the stillness. The solemn 

 silence seemed like the hush before the bursting of a storm, 

 and the ancient trees frowned from their loft}^ heights,^ 

 I half thought the}" were gathering up their knotted arms to 

 strike down the curious invader of their sacred halls. As 

 I advanced, an undergrowth of small trees, in time to 

 become the successors of the heavy giants above them ( so 

 does Nature, in man and tree, w^ork out her eternal law of 

 succession and change), — impeded my progress, and the 

 darkness was still descending. 



However, — such was the marvellous fascination of the 

 hour and the place, — I pressed on, calling occasionally to 

 my guide, and awaiting his responsive call, to ensure my 

 being able to find my way back to the boat. But, at length, 

 I discovered that I was walking in beaten paths. Tracks 

 of animals of no mean proportions were behind and before 

 me. All the legends of wolves and bears and panthers that 

 I had ever heard or read, flashed upon my memory, — and 

 with one more call to George, I turned and hastened back 

 to the shore. 



I was content with my one glimpse, by twilight, at the 

 forest's great and solemn heart; and having once, alone, 



