50 UNDER GREEN LEAVES 
We gain the top and look down the valley. And 
what a sight is there ! One worth going many more 
miles to see. A gentle breeze has arisen, just strong 
enough to bend and wave the hardly yet matured 
masses of green foliage, which look like a sea of 
rippling verdure. The fluttering whispers among the 
young leaves are distinctly audible. 
From the firs comes that aromatic scent of resinous 
compound. This mingles with that of the beeches 
and the oaks ; then there is the odour of the whortle 
bushes and the ferns superadded ; each scent differing, 
yet here delightfully blended, making the finest 
medicine a man can take through his lungs. 
Before, and below us, is a long stretch of valley 
moorland, fringed on either side by woods. Our 
readers will please bear in mind the fact that there 
are two kinds of moorland, the upland moors and the 
valley moors. The former are far more boggy than 
the latter, for this reason the water continually 
coming down from their springs forms the beautiful 
little trout streams that drain the valley moors. 
From rills, from mere threads, and from drippings, 
falling drop by drop from the mosses, the water 
comes now as it has done from time beyond record, 
from the moors above to the moors below ; in summer 
and winter a continual flow, without stint. Now, as 
