RUNNING WATERS 



169 



into the dark pool where the trout lie I The 

 reflection of the trees, the delicacy of the trans- 

 parent sky, the light, the shade, the flashing 

 line of the brook far down the glen, what do they 

 not say to ns of life and beauty ! Very pretty 

 in its bend, very lovely in its light and color, is 

 the water of the fall as it is pushed out and 

 over its ledge of rock into the air. If it has 

 no great pitch down, its curve is unbroken. 

 Where it begins to bend there is a bar of sun- 

 light running across it bright as silver, which 

 changes only with the sun, and where it plunges 

 into the pool there is a dizzy dance of bubbles 

 coming and going as tiny spots of light. 



This little waterfall, so delicate in its play, we 

 may watch for hours, and afterward hear its 

 low murmur in our ears whenever we choose to 

 think about it ; but its charm soon vanishes j 

 when it becomes a cataract. Sometimes thei 

 descent of the fall is so great, as in the case of 

 many Yellowstone and Yosemite streams, that 

 the water is blown out and shattered into mist 

 before it reaches the ground. That seems to be 

 in a way mere annihilation. The Staubbach, in 

 the valley of Lauterbrunnen, is thus practically 

 destroyed. Its wave through the air in falling 

 is graceful and is much admired ; but I am 



Byth. 



water fdU. 



TJ* 



catarmH 



