120 CRUISINGS IN THE CASCADKS 



within its walls to gaze upon these magic pictures, 

 absorbed in their grandeur and romantic beauty. Nor 

 does the main stream afford the only objects of 

 beauty and interest here. It is a diamond set in a 

 cluster of diamonds, for many of the little brooks, 

 already mentioned as coming down the mountain 

 on either side, are only less attractive because 

 smaller. Many of them tumble from the tops of 

 rocky walls, and dance down among the branches of 

 evergreen trees, sparkling like ribbons of silver in 

 the rays of the noonday sun. 



Theodore Roosevelt, in his excellent work, "Hunt- 

 ing Trips of a Ran-hman;" says: " Thirst is largely 

 a matter of habit," So it may be, but I am sadly 

 addicted to the habit, and I found it one from which, 

 on this trip, I was able to extract a great deal of 

 comfort, for we crossed one or more of these little 

 brooks every hour, and I rarely passed one without 

 taking a copious draught of its icy fluid. The days- 

 were moderately warm, and the hard labor we per- 

 formed, walking and climbing, made these frequent 

 opportunities to quench thirst one of the most 

 pleasant features of the journey. I was frequently 

 reminded of Cole's beautiful tribute to the mountain 

 brook: 



" Sleeping in crystal wells, 



Leaping in shady dells, 



Or issuing clear from the womb of the mountain, 



Sky-mated, related, earth's holiest daughter; 



Not the hot kks of wine, 

 Is half so divine as the sip of thy lip, inspiring cold water." 



We arrived at our destination, the foot of Ski-ik- 

 kulLake (and the source of the creek up which we 

 had been traveling), at four o'clock in the afternoon 



