262 OUTDOOR STUDIES 
ravine, amid tangled roots and trunks, seeking 
in vain for a footing, until, as in Lowell’s de- 
scription of old-time Cambridge mud, one’s legs 
became mere corkscrews to extract one’s boots, 
—no longer thus afflicted, we trod on smooth 
slabs of rock, cushioned with velvet moss, that 
would have invited repose but for the delicate 
rills of trickling water that preserved its em- 
erald hue. What matter for these ! —they 
cooled our feet ; and very sweet was the forest 
chill that made an atmosphere about the stream. 
A lingering ‘“‘ Peabody-bird ” welcomed us from 
the ravine, now silent with summer. Above and 
below us spread the cascades: some spanned 
by forest trunks, long since fallen, but still 
green with mosses; others open to the sky, 
and with only a suggestive rill of water; while 
others, again, held even this little stream in- 
visible, murmuring beneath the rocks. We 
could not have asked for a sweeter rest after 
our descent, or for a lovelier bower of peace, 
than we found in the valley of the Seven Cas- 
cades. 
There is nothing in nature so shy and vir- 
ginal as a cascade in primeval woods; it seems 
alone with its own beauty, and unfit for any 
ruder contact than that of the deer which comes, 
timid and lonely as itself, to drink at its pure 
basin. On this particular day, it must be 
