40 HEART OF THE SOUTHERN CATSKILLS 



The ravages of the bark peelers were still visi- 

 ble, now in a space thickly strewn with the soft 

 and decayed trunks of hemlock-trees, and over- 

 grown with wild cherry, then in huge mossy 

 logs scattered through the beech and maple 

 woods ; some of these logs were so soft and mossy 

 that one could sit or recline upon them as upon 



a sofa. 



But the prettiest thing was the stream solilo- 

 quizing in such musical tones there amid the 

 moss-covered rocks and bowlders. How clean 

 it looked, what purity ; civilization corrupts the 

 streams as it corrupts the Indian; only in such 

 remote woods can you now see a brook in all 

 its original freshness and beauty. Only the sea 

 and the mountain forest brook are pure; all 

 between is contaminated more or less by the 

 work of man. An ideal trout brook was this, 

 now hurrying, now loitering, now deepening 

 around a great bowlder, now gliding evenly 

 over a pavement of green-gray stone and peb- 

 bles; no sediment or stain of any kind, but 

 white and sparkling as snow water, and nearly 

 as cool. Indeed, the water of all this Catskill 

 region is the best in the world. For the first 

 few days one feels as if he could almost live on 

 the water alone ; he cannot drink enough of it. 

 In this particular it is indeed the good Bible 

 land, " a land of brooks of water, of fountains 

 and depths that spring out of valleys and 

 hills. " 



Near the forks we caught, or thought we 

 caught, through an opening, a glimpse of Slide. 



