REACHING THE BRINK. 
139 
into a larger one, and this into another, until at last the main ravine is 
reached. Very sweet and touching now are the influences of nature. The 
balmy air, the dark and somber spruces, the pale-green aspens, the golden 
shafts of sunlight shot through their foliage, the velvet sward— surely this 
is the home of the woodland nymphs, and at every turn of the way we can 
fancy we are about to see them flying at our approach or peeping at us from 
the flowery banks. 
By half-past ten the spring is reached. Next to the Big Spring in 
Stewart’s Canon, it is the largest on the summit of the plateau. Here, 
too, is the only semblance of running water, for the stream flows a little 
uiore than half a mile before it sinks. The water is cold and delicious. It 
has a faint whitish cast, like that which would be produced by putting a 
drop or two of milk into a bucket of pure water. I presume it is caused by 
a fine precipitate of lime. We called it the “Milk Spring.” Pausing here 
for a hasty lunch, and to fill the kegs (for to-night we may make a “dry” 
camp), we push on. We climb out of the ravine, and in fact we only came 
here to obtain water, as it is the only place near to the point of destination 
at which water can be procured. The route now becomes more rugged, 
leading across ravines and over intervening ridges, crossing the grain of the 
country, so to speak. But it is not difficult, for the pines have taken place 
of the spruces, and where the pines predominate the forest is very open. 
For eight miles from the Milk Spring we continue to cross hills and valleys, 
then follow a low swale shaded by giant pines with trunks three to four feet 
in thickness. The banks are a parterre of flowers. On yonder hillside, 
beneath one of these kingly trees, is a spot which seems to glow with an 
unwonted wealth of floral beauty. It is scarcely a hundred yards distant; 
let IIS pluck a bouquet from it. We ride up the slope. 
The earth suddenly sinks at our feet to illimitable depths. In an instant, 
in the twinkling of an eye, the awful scene is before us. 
