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White, Stewart Edward, 1873-1946

"The Forest"

After a while he appeared, climbing leisurely. He
gazed on us from behind the mask of his Indian imperturbability. Then
he grinned. That did us good, for we all three laughed aloud, and
buckled down to business in a better frame of mind.
That day we discovered a most beautiful waterfall. A stream about
twenty feet in width, and with a good volume of water, dropped some
three hundred feet or more into the River. It was across the valley
from us, so we had a good view of its beauties. Our estimates of its
height were carefully made on the basis of some standing pine that grew
near its foot.
And then we entered a steep little ravine, and descended it with
misgivings to a canon, and walked easily down the canon to a slope that
took us by barely sensible gradations to a wooded plain. At six o'clock
we stood on the banks of the River, and the hills were behind us.
Of our down-stream travel there is little really to be said. We
established a number of facts--that the River dashes most scenically
from rapid to rapid, so that the stagnant pool theory is henceforth
untenable; that the hills get higher and wilder the farther you
penetrate to the interior, and their cliffs and rock-precipices bolder
and more naked; that there are trout in the upper reaches, but not so
large as in the lower pools; and, above all, that travel is not a joy
for ever.
For we could not ford the River above the Falls--it is too deep and
swift.


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