THE FOREST. 5 



and finally, where grey mists melt and dissolve in the 

 distant haze, it is not easy to know which is forest 

 and which is sky. 



Such is the view that lies beneath your eyes as you 

 stand upon a mountain peak some four or five thou- 

 sand feet above the plain. But so deep, so soft is the 

 mantle of forest, that you may fail to realise the 

 grandeur of the mountains. They have not the 

 austerity that belongs to nakedness. To right and 

 to left, where the mountain spurs run out and down 

 to the plain, your eyes rest on slopes which, though 

 steep perhaps, are softly undulating. Each tree melts 

 gently into its neighbour, or partly hides it; all is 

 green and harmonious, and the mountain offers a 

 face which appears to be as smooth and unbroken as 

 a pasture land. But sometimes you may see how 

 deceptive this appearance is. It has been raining, 

 and a great cloud comes slowly swimming landward 

 from the sea. The direction that it takes will bring 

 it within a mile of you. As it approaches the 

 mountain you wonder what will happen, whether 

 it will rest against the mountain side, or whether it 

 will roll upwards through the trees. But to your 

 amazement, when the cloud edge touches the mountain 

 it does not stop. Then you see that the whole cloud 

 is swimming on into the mountain. What has hap- 

 pened is that a mountain ravine has acted as the 

 channel up which a current of air is rushing skywards 

 from the plain, and into the ravine the cloud is being 

 slowly sucked. As the cloud enters, its shape and 

 size and colour help your eye to see both sides of the 

 ravine, and you may vaguely estimate the depth and 



