A 'Thousand- Mile TValk 
with the trees in the one great bedroom of the 
open night. 
September 12. Awoke drenched with moun- 
tain mist, which made a grand show, as it 
moved away before the hot sun. Passed Mont- 
gomery, a shabby village at the head of the 
east slope of the Cumberland Mountains. Ob- 
tained breakfast in a clean house and began the 
descent of the mountains. Obtained fine views 
of a wide, open country, and distant flanking 
ridges and spurs. Crossed a wide cool stream 
[Emory River], a branch of the Clinch River. 
There is nothing more eloquent in Nature than 
a mountain stream, and this is the first I ever 
saw. Its banks are luxuriantly peopled with 
rare and lovely flowers and overarching trees, 
making one of Nature’s coolest and most hos- 
pitable places. Every tree, every flower, every 
ripple and eddy of this lovely stream seemed 
solemnly to feel the presence of the great Cre- 
ator. Lingered in this sanctuary a long time 
thanking the Lord with all my heart for his 
goodness in allowing me to enter and enjoy it. 
[ 30 ] 
