164 LOCUSTS AND WILD HONEY 



heard of more. There are old hunters who aver 

 that her cry may still he heard at night at the head 

 of the valley whenever a tree falls in the stillness of 

 the forest." 



"Well, I heard a tree fall not ten minutes ago," 

 Baid Aaron; "a distant, rushing sound with a sub- 

 dued crash at the end of it, and the only answering 

 cry I heard was the shrill voice of the screech owl 

 off yonder against the mountain. But maybe it 

 was not an owl," said he after a moment; "let us 

 help the legend along by believing it was the voice 

 of the lost maiden." 



"By the way," continued he, "do you remember 

 the pretty creature we saw seven years ago in the 

 shanty on the West Branch, who was really helping 

 her mother cook for the hands, a slip of a girl twelve 

 or thirteen years old, with eyes as beautiful and 

 bewitching as the waters that flowed by her cabin 1 

 I was wrapped in admiration till she spoke; then 

 how the spell was broken ! Such a voice ! It was 

 like the sound of pots and pans when you expected 

 to hear a lute." 



The next day we bade farewell to the Eondout, 

 and set out to cross the mountain to the east branch 

 of the Neversink. 



"We shall find tame waters compared with these, 

 I fear, — a shriveled stream brawling along over 

 loose stones, with few pools or deep places." 



Our course was along the trail of the bark-men 

 who had pursued the doomed hemlock to the last 

 teee at the head of the valley. As we passed along, 



