62 FROM BLOMIDON TO SMOKY. 



joined the river at my feet. To reach this lower 

 level the dancing waters must fall as many yards 

 as they advanced. Their last leap made the cas- 

 cade whose splashing filled the glen with music. 

 I forded the icy river, and entered the chamber 

 in the side of the western bank which held the 

 cascade, and its screen of trees, ferns, and mosses. 

 Since leaving the open meadow by the sea and 

 entering the dark forest, I had felt the spell of 

 the wilderness resting upon me, the sense of age, 

 beauty, purity, persistent force ; all existing or 

 working without man's knowledge or approval, 

 yet being the very essence of this dewy land of 

 twilight. On coming to this grotto of rushing 

 waters, Nature seemed for the moment to find a 

 voice with which to tell of her wonderful power. 

 The falling spray was singing of the sea from 

 which had been taken into heaven, and to which 

 it was hastening back after a new life. Its cycle 

 is but the emblem of all ebbing and flowing life. 

 The spell of the wilderness grew stronger upon me, 

 and when, suddenly, I thought how many wearied 

 souls there were in great cities who would love to 

 see this beautiful, hidden spot, something akin to 

 shame for my own race came also into my mind. 

 If man came here, would he not destroy ? His 

 foot would trample, his hand deface, and finally 

 he would cut down the firs, blast out the rock, 

 choke the salmon with sawdust, and leave the 



