150 HILLSIDE, ROCK, AND DALE 



time it could not be discovered. We rested about 

 two-thirds of the way up the precipitous rock and 

 took our lunch. When this was almost finished, we 

 heard the well-known call of the raven, which sounded 

 only about fifty feet above, and although Watkins, 

 the keeper (a thorough naturalist and bird-lover), said 

 it was a cock raven calling far above, I was con- 

 vinced it was the hen calling from her nest. Another 

 difficult climb, and the nest was discovered, but in a 

 position absolutely impossible to photograph, either 

 with or without the aid of ropes. 



The view from the rocks immediately above this 

 nest was stupendous and of marvellous grandeur ; 

 it can best be described by one word solitude a 

 solitude so complete and impressive that one felt 

 awed. Twelve hundred feet below, the river, winding 

 like a silver thread, made its way over boulders and 

 between rocks. Snowy white waterfalls and smaller 

 mountain streams, as they came down from their 

 heights, were the only sounds the music of these 

 everlasting hills ; and this reached us, as it were, 

 in an undertone a softly pleasing sound, a contrast 

 to the deafening roar which is heard when ' near 

 to the boiling torrents. Fit music this, I thought, 

 as I looked over the vast view stretched before 

 me, for the raven to listen to from his citadel. There 

 was a roadway by the river a faint grey line. The 

 opposite hill was. dark, covered on its lower sides 



