IP o s t e i s i a 169 



cursion up the mountain trail to the 

 head waters of the mill flume. My 

 horse ran away before I was on him 

 five minutes, and Miss Crosby's stood 

 on his hind legs most of the time, but, 

 partly because we were assured that 

 they were the gentlest horses on the 

 plantation, and mainly because we were 

 so delighted with the wild luxuriance of 

 ferns and mountain trees, we got the 

 better of our first fright and did our 

 ditch jumping and slippery climbing 

 with comparative ease. When the 

 horses could go no farther, they were 

 tied, and we went afoot the rest of the 

 way on elevated flumes — wooden ditches 

 about two feet wide and one foot deep, 

 some of them twenty-five feet from the 

 ground. On the boards of the flume 

 were attached the fronds of Nostoc com- 

 mune, and in the falls of the stream 

 were beds of small, black, shot-like 



