IN THE CATSKILLS 



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 ? 

 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 Rondout, 

 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 

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

 a red steer stepped out of the bushes into the road 

 ahead of us, where the sunshine fell full upon him, 

 and, with a half-scared, beautiful look, begged alms 

 of salt. We passed the Haunted Shanty; but both 

 it and the legend about it looked very tame at ten 

 o'clock in the morning. After the road had faded 

 out, we took to the bed of the stream to avoid the 

 gauntlet of the underbrush, skipping up the moun- 

 tain from boulder to boulder. Up and up we went, 

 with frequent pauses and copious quaffing of the 

 cold water. My soldier declared a " haunted val- 

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