vi PREFACE. 



tlie creek was a well-travelled water-way, and tlie only 

 tlioronglifare communicating with the then villages of 

 Bm-lington and Philadelphia. Now, like the old road, 

 the creek as a commercial highway is qnite forgotten. 

 For sixty years not a vessel except the hideous hulks of 

 lime-boats has landed at any of its wharves ; but, unlike 

 the old road, the stream remains, and, happily for the nat- 

 uralist and him who loves a quiet outing, has in great 

 measure kept to that condition that made it so attrac- 

 tive to the Indians. 



Mechen-tschiholens-sipu, as the redskins called it, is a 

 tide-water stream, and the uppermost of the afHuents of 

 the Delaware possessing this feature. When, then, it 

 may be asked, is it seen at its best ?— at high or low tide ? 

 It is not a mere matter of taste. The two conditions 

 are so unlike as scarcely to be comparable. For myself 

 I should sadly miss either one. At high tide we have 

 a wide stream, with deep green, rushy banks ; at low, a 

 narrow, rapid, and more fretful current. The former 

 shuts out the treasures of the stream, and invites to ex- 

 ploration of the curiously nooked and crannied shores ; 

 the latter opens up the mysteries of a world beneath the 

 waves, of which, as yet, we have had but casual glimpses. 

 Even animal life that is not strictly aquatic is largely 

 affected by this difference in the tides, and many a creat- 

 ure that we can see at one time is seldom to be found at 

 another. It is always at low tide that I have seen at 



its best 



"The moping heron, motionless and stiff, 



That on a stone as silently and stilly 



Stood, an apparent sentinel, as if 



To guard the water-lily." 



There is no rest for these waters. The moment 

 they cease flowing up the valley their downward course 



