LINVILLE FALLS 343 
erably lowering the final leap, thus taking away 
something from its impressiveness. 
Climbing up again to where the path branches, if 
you want to go to the foot of the fall, where you can 
get a near view of it, you turn aside here — and take 
the consequences. A stream of water trickles down 
the slippery path, which is half rock, half rhododen- 
dron roots. The limbs of the rhododendrons twist 
about you like enormous snakes. You step down 
where you can, but where the distance is too great 
you have to jump, that is, you jump if you dare, 
but it is not likely you will dare, knowing what is 
below. The alternative is to sit down and slide over 
the rocks covered with black and sticky mud. It is a 
breathless scramble and your arms ache from hold- 
ing to the rhododendron cables. Finally, you reach 
the narrow ledge of rock that borders the deep pool 
into which the river drops. There it is, close to you, 
a high, white mass of foam and deafening you with 
its thunder. If the sun is shining you may see rain- 
bows playing about it, and in any event you will get 
a wetting from the spray. A wall of rock rises above 
you and there is scarcely room to take a step, so 
close to your feet lies the deep water. There are big 
wise trout in this pool, the people say, but it takes 
a very wise angler to lure them out. 
Getting back again is worse than getting down. 
Unfortunately gravity prevents sliding up, and a 
sudden descent into Avernus seems quite fearfully 
imminent as you slip and struggle and cling to the 
rhododendrons. But before starting up you can if 
