264 OUTDOOR STUDIES 
“On the stubs of living rock 
Ages ago it crenelled,” 
as Browning has it. A few turns of the stream 
brought us to the most beautiful cascade of all. 
Looking upward, we saw a green cave or grotto, 
built with the regularity of art, and arching 
towards us over the little pool into which its 
waters fell. The cascade came from an over- 
hanging ledge, precisely as if the arch which 
surmounted the cave had lost its keystone, and 
the water passed through between two mossy 
slabs. The fall was of eight or ten feet only, 
but the hollow cave which received it —a grotto 
all emerald with glistening moss — gave it a 
beauty that nothing was needed to enhance ex- 
cept the solitary deer which should have been, 
but was not, drinking in that still place. 
The brook soon left us, dwindling to a gurgle 
among the stones, and then vanishing, while we 
pushed on towards upper air, our guide mark- 
ing the trees for future explorers, or for a pos- 
sible pathway. We noted how skilfully he 
“ spotted” with his axe, — the word “blaze”’ is 
rarely used, in this sense, in New England, — 
not cutting deeply in, as a novice would have 
done, but simply scarring’ the bark, and thus 
leaving a more unmistakable mark for future 
years than if the wood itself were indented. 
The wall we were climbing grew rapidly steeper, 
