We at last brought up at the
bottom of a deep gorge, through which flowed a rapid creek that
literally swarmed with trout. But we were in no mood to catch them,
and pushed on along the channel of the stream, sometimes leaping from
rock to rock, and sometimes splashing heedlessly through the water,
and speculating the while as to where we should probably come out. On
the Beaver Kill, my companions thought; but from the position of the
sun, I said, on the Mill Brook, about six miles below our team; for I
remembered having seen, in coming up this stream, a deep, wild valley
that led up into the mountains, like this one. Soon the banks of the
stream became lower, and we moved into the woods. Here we entered upon
an obscure wood-road, which presently conducted us into the midst of a
vast hemlock forest. The land had a gentle slope, and we wondered by
the lumbermen and barkmen who prowl through these woods had left this
fine tract untouched. Beyond this the forest was mostly birch and
maple.
We were now close to settlement, and began to hear human sounds. One
rod more, and we were out of the woods. It took us a moment to
comprehend the scene.
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