136 A WEEK ON WALDEN'S RIDGE. 



tree, a noble specimen, hung with creamy- 

 white plumes ; here was a magnolia, with 

 big leaves and big flowers ; and here was 

 a flowering dogwood, not to be put out of 

 countenance in any company ; but espe- 

 cially, here were the rhododendrons ! And 

 all the while, deep in the thickest of the 

 bushes, some unknown bird was singing a 

 strange, breathless jumble of a song, note 

 tripping over note, — like an eager church- 

 man with his responses, I kept saying to 

 myself, with no thought of disrespect to 

 either party. It cost me a long vigil and 

 much patient coaxing to make the fellow 

 out, and he proved to be merely a Wilson's 

 blackcap, after all; but he was the only 

 bird of his kind that I saw in Tennessee. 



On this first visit I did not get far beyond 

 the creek, through the bed of which the 

 road runs, with a single log for foot-passen- 

 gers. I had spent at least an hour in going 

 a hundred rods, and it was already drawing 

 near dinner time. But I returned to the 

 spot that very afternoon, and half a dozen 

 times afterward. So poor a traveler am 

 I, so ill fitted to explore a new country. 

 Whenever nothing in particular offered 



