RUNNING WATERS 
169 
into the dark pool where the trout lie! The 
reflection of the trees, the delicacy of the trans- 
parent sky, the light, the shade, the flashing 
line of the brook far down the glen, what do they 
not say to us of life and beauty! Very pretty 
in its bend, very lovely in its ight and color, is 
the water of the fall as it is pushed out and 
over its ledge of rock into the air. If it has 
no great pitch down, its curve is unbroken. 
Where it begins to bend there is a bar of sun- 
light running across it bright as silver, which 
changes only with the sun, and where it plunges 
into the pool there is a dizzy dance of bubbles 
coming and going as tiny spots of light. 
This little waterfall, so delicate in its play, we 
may watch for hours, and afterward hear its 
low murmur in our ears whenever we choose to 
think about it; but its charm soon vanishes 
when it becomes a cataract. Sometimes the 
descent of the fall is so great, as in the case of 
many Yellowstone and Yosemite streams, that 
the water is blown out and shattered into mist 
before it reaches the ground. That seems to be 
in a way mere annihilation. The Staubbach, in 
the valley of Lauterbrunnen, is thus practically 
destroyed. Its wave through the air in falling 
is graceful and is much admired; but I am 
By the 
waterfall. 
The 
cataract, 
