206 
RURAL HOURS. 
tains. The whole land lay slumbering in the twilight of the for- 
est. Wild dreams made up its half-conscious existence. The 
hungry cry of the beast of prey, or the fierce deed of savage 
man, whoop and dance, triumph and torture, broke in fitful bursts 
upon the deep silence, and then died away, leaving the breath of 
life to rise and fall with the passing winds. 
Every rocky cliff on the hill-side, every marshy spot on the low- 
lands, was veiled in living, rustling folds of green. Here a dark 
wave of pine, hemlock, and balsam ran through a ravine, on yon- 
der knoll shone the rich glossy verdure of oak, and maple, and 
chestnut ; upon the breast of the mountain stood the birch, the 
elm, and the aspen, in light and airy tufts. Leaves of every tint 
of green played in the summer sunshine, leaves fluttered in the 
moonlight, and the showers of heaven fell everywhere upon the 
sreen leaves of the unbroken forest. 
Sixty years have worked a wonderful change ; the forest has 
fallen upon the lowlands, and there is not a valley about us which 
has not been opened. Another half century may find the coun- 
try bleak and bare ; but as yet the woods have not^ all been felled, 
and within the circle which boimds our view, there is no moun- 
tain which has been wholly shorn, none presents a bald front to 
the sky ; upon the lake shore, there are several hills still wrap- 
ped in wood from the summit to the base. He who takes 
pleasiu-e in the forest, by picking his way, and following a winding 
course, may yet travel many a long mile over a shady path, such 
as the red man loved. 
Tlie forest lands of America preserve to the present hour some- 
thing that is characteristic of their wild condition, undisturbed for 
ages. They abound in ruins of their own. Old trees, dead and 
