
          509.

At Orange Grove we saw quite a number of birds.  We took
them to be swallows; they were a little larger than the sparrow,
they were constantly on the wing and hovered over the water,
which they would frequently almost touch.  One that flew
towards us, made a peculiar abrupt stop in its flight, and then
flew in another direction.  But, what interested us, perhaps
most of all were the many rills and brooks and their wonderful volume of
water; how, in many places, where we had never seen water
flowing, there, to-day flowed a beautiful stream, dashing along in
its course.  And the streams, which we had always seen; how beautiful,
how grand were they in their mad courses!  On the River R'd, we
stopped to admire the brook that we <s>passed</s> clambered along on our
way to Hanson's.  What a beautiful sight it presented to-day!  To
get a better view of it we climbed up the hillside and into its gorge a
short distance.  The water in its wild course fell over a precipice
a distance of more than 15 feet and in its fall broke into spray which
it dashed many feet around.  When we reached the Cascades
we felt that we could not let this day pass by without visiting
them, and well were we repaid by the grand scene they presented.
It was with difficulty that we managed to cross <s>this swollen</s> <s>its</s> the
        