60 FROM BLOMIDON TO SMOKY. 



ready several miles from shore. Sheep and cows 

 stood in the curving meadow, and a young bull, 

 their leader, looked at me more sleepily than 

 sullenly as I passed him. The dew was cold on 

 the grass, and it soaked my feet ; but the dew 

 and its chill were part of the hour, so serene 

 and pure, quite as much as were the whistle of 

 a crossbill which flew past overhead, and the 

 matins of the juncos which they were singing in 

 their forest cloisters. I crossed the meadow, 

 and followed the road through the spruces and 

 over the bridge above Indian Brook. A narrow 

 footpath led from the farther end of the bridge 

 up the northern bank of the stream. Now it 

 passed through groves so dark and silent that 

 night seemed still supreme ; then it came out 

 into twilight at the edge of the bank above the 

 water, and showed me that, little by little, it 

 was climbing above the pools and rapids as it 

 followed the channel back into the mountains. 



After walking for half an hour, I came to a 

 sharp bend in the river, which had previously been 

 flowing east, but which here came from the 

 north, emerging from between steep cliffs, to roar 

 and foam over a sloping bed of broken rock. 

 Above the music of the rapids I could hear the 

 splash of a cascade, and by peering through the 

 trees I could see the white form of a waterfall, 

 half concealed by the foliage on the other bank. 



