342 THE CAROLINA MOUNTAINS 
the river enters in two wide, low cascades that are 
separated from each other by tree-covered rocks. 
The shining Linville steps down from the forest, 
through which it has sparkled and sung all the way 
from its source at the back of the Grandfather, to 
rest as it were in the beautiful pool and make ready 
for that great leap down the wall of the mountain. 
High walls clad with living green encircle the pool 
on whose calm surface are mirrored the trees and 
the sky. To the eye it is a scene of peace, but in the 
ears is the tumultuous beating of the waters. The 
outlet of the pool is a deep and narrow crack. It 
is as though the broad river-bed had suddenly been 
set up on edge. The water plunges with a roar into 
this winding channel, rages about the impediments 
there, and finally escapes through a cleft in the rock 
to leap over the wall of the mountain. 
Across a wide stone floor one walks to the scene of 
commotion in the narrow channel, but it is impossible 
to get a view of the final plunge without gaining a 
point of vantage by a jump too dangerous to think 
of. It fills one with a sense of impending danger to 
stand shut in by the high walls and hear the strife 
between the water and the rocks : and if it is terrible 
at this safe season of the year, imagine it in the 
spring floods! Standing on the wide, dry pavement, 
you look up to see a drift-log caught in the bushes 
on the cliff-side high above your head. It is hard to 
realize it, yet you know the water put it there. It 
was at a time of high water that the upper rim of 
the lower fall gave way, forming a step, and consid- 
