After all, I do not know that
the cascade is anything more than a beautiful fringe to the grandeur of
the scene; for it is very grand,--this fissure through the cliff,--with a
steep, lofty precipice on the right hand, sheer up and down, and on the
other hand, too, another lofty precipice, with a slope of its own ruin on
which trees and shrubbery have grown. The right-hand precipice, however,
has shelves affording sufficient hold for small trees, but nowhere does
it slant. If it were not for the white little stream falling gently
downward, and for the soft verdure upon either precipice, and even along
the very pathway of the cascade, it would be a very stern vista up that
gorge.
I shall not try to describe it any more. It has not been praised too
much, though it may have been praised amiss. I went thither again in the
morning, and climbed a good way up, through the midst of its rocky
descent, and I think I could have reached the top in this way. It is
remarkable that the bounds of the water, from one step of its broken
staircase to another, give an impression of softness and gentleness; but
there are black, turbulent pools among the great bowlders, where the
stream seems angry at the difficulties which it meets with. Looking
upward in the sunshine, I could see a rising mist, and I should not
wonder if a speck of rainbow were sometimes visible. I noticed a small
oak in the bed of the cascade, and there is a lighter vegetation
scattered about.
Pages:
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254