143 
After nine o’clock we departed, and rode eighteen miles to Spring™ 
field. We stopped on our way at a small village, Yellow Springs, 
to see the spring from which this place derives its name. The 
village occupies a woody elevation on the shore of the Little 
Miami, rushing through a deep rocky valley. The place is small, 
and was bought by a society of twelve gentlemen, under the di¬ 
rection of Mr. Lowndes, a friend of Mr. McClure. These 
gentlemen intended to found a sect upon Owen’s system; there 
had been one established here previously, but dissolved on ac¬ 
count of the majority of them being worthless creatures, who had 
brought neither capital, nor inclination to work. Mr. Lowndes, 
whose acquaintance I made, said that he expected new and better 
members. The locality is healthy and favourable for such an es¬ 
tablishment. The spring originates in a limestone rock, the wa¬ 
ter has a little taste of iron, and deposits a great quantity of 
ochre, from which it takes its name. The spring is said to give 
one hundred and ten gallons of water per minute, which is re¬ 
ceived in a basin, surrounded with cedar trees. The yellow 
stream which comes from the basin, runs a short distance over a 
bed of limestone and is afterwards precipitated into the valley. 
These limestone rocks form very singular figures on the edge of 
this valley; the detached pieces resemble the Devil’s Wall of the 
Hartz. 
They had no baths fitted up, as yet there is only a shower- 
bath. The former will most probably be established, when it 
becomes a place of public resort. Mr. Lowndes told me that it 
was their intention to take more water in, and to have some 
walks established in the vicinity, to which the surrounding coun¬ 
try is very favourable. Following Mr. Lowndes’ advice, we 
took a roundabout way of one mile and rode to a saw-mill called 
Patterson’s mill, to see the lesser falls of the Little Miami. I had 
no reason to repent it, as I was richly rewarded with one of the 
finest prospects I ever beheld. The Little Miami forces itself 
for the length of a mile with most singular windings through a 
rocky dale at least fifty feet deep, which in many places is but 
eighteen feet wide, it forms little cataracts, and suddenly disap¬ 
pears for a short distance. Large cedar trees shade this pre¬ 
cipice, which makes it very gloomy, and contribute in a great 
measure to the peculiarity of this imposing scene of nature* 
The rocks are very steep, and are connected by a bridge, on 
which one looks from the dizzy precipice into a real abyss. 
Following a narrow path, I went down to the water and found 
myself almost in obscurity. I felt entirely separated from the 
world, and was scarcely able to preserve the consciousness of my 
own existence. I experienced a peculiar feeling on again per¬ 
ceiving the day-light. Following the course of the rushing wa- 
