200 BIRCH BROWSINGS. 



might. As we paused on the hrink of a ledge of rocks, 

 we chanced to see through the trees distant cleared 

 land. A house or barn also was dimly descried. This 

 was encouraging ; but we could not make out whether 

 it was on Beaver Kill or Mill Brook or Dry Brook, and 

 did not long stop to consider where it was. We at 

 last brought up at the bottom of a deep gorge, through 

 which flowed a rapid creek that literally swarmed with 

 trout. But we were in no mood to catch them, and 

 pushed on along the channel of the stream, sometimes 

 leaping from rock to rock, and sometimes splashing 

 heedlessly through the water, and speculating the while 

 as to where we would probably come out. On the 

 Beaver Kill, my companions thought ; but, from the 

 position of the sun, I said, on the Mill Brook, about 

 six miles below our team ; for I remembered having 

 seen, in coming up this stream, a deep, wild valley that 

 led up into the mountains, like this one. Soon the 

 banks of the stream became lower, and we moved into 

 the woods. Here we entered upon an obscure wood- 

 road, which presently conducted us into the midst of a 

 vast hemlock forest. The land had a gentle slope, and 

 we wondered why the lumbermen and barkmen who 

 prowl through these woods had left this fine tract 

 untouched. Beyond this the forest was mostly birch 

 and maple. 



We were now close to the settlement, and began to 

 hear human sounds. One rod more, and we were out 

 of the woods. It took us a moment to comprehend 



