18 AT THE NORTH OF BEARCAMP WATER . 
ear-trumpets of my hands, the splashing thus 
intensified drowned the heavier sounds. The 
rhythm of the water was most prettily shown 
on a boulder faced with thick moss. When 
the high water came it poured over the top of 
the rock, and the moss was filled with white 
shining drops coursing downward through it; 
but, on the reaction, it instantly became vivid 
green. The , same pulsation showed in each 
cascade, which was greater then less, greater 
then less, in each second of time. As I bent 
over a pool, taking now and then a sip of the 
icy water, a small trout suddenly jumped near 
the foot of the fall below. He was intensely 
busy working about in the edge of the falling 
water, where rising bubbles and whirling foam 
half concealed him. In color he looked not un¬ 
like a beech leaf, and he moved so constantly 
that only an attentive eye could distinguish him 
from the waste of the stream whirled about in 
the eddies. I cast him some moss and mould, 
and he darted hither and thither in the water 
clouded by it, snapping up bits of food or specks 
which he mistook for food. His eagerness and 
restlessness seemed born of the restlessness of 
the stream and the keen temperature of the water 
in which he lived. 
There was something of the impressiveness of 
the sea in this mountain brook. The sea rolls 
