"That's the twentieth time," announced Chuck.
"We're just on the edge of it yet," shouted Mr. Allen. "Let's hurry and get into it."
The trail began immediately to descend, and before they knew it the party found themselves beside a crystal stream that seemed to be lost in a narrow park of great trees and mighty boulders. The trail crossed the stream by an ancient corduroy bridge, then off it ran again up the opposite side of the canyon, penetrating deeper into the quiet forest.
"This is the forest primeval,
The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,"
quoted Ham. There was a perfume of the forest dampness in the air. Every tree seemed to shelter a bird family or a host of squirrels, to say nothing of the tiny creatures that made chorus together from their hiding places. Softly filtering through the trees came the constant melody of a waterfall, now far away, now just ahead, crying, laughing, sobbing, in a strange intermingling of feeling.
The trail made a sharp turn to the left, the trees suddenly came to an end, and in their place were large piles of mossy, ragged boulders. The canyon ended in a perpendicular, moss-covered wall, hundreds of feet high, and from the top of this wrinkled old cliff leaped the stream into the canyon below. On an old tin sign, fastened to the stump of an immense tree, were the words, "St. Marys." Directly at the base of the falls, and at their extreme edge, stood a grand old spruce tree, straight and clean as an arrow, its slender top reaching nearly to the top of the falls. They seemed to be happy comrades, for the tree was gently vibrating with the soft, half-wild music of the crystal stream.
After every nook and cranny had been explored, the group began to retrace their steps down the canyon.
"Isn't it a wonderful little spot?" asked Phil, as they sat down by the bridge to rest. "Who do you suppose ever built this trail away up here? See, it has been dug from the very mountain-side in many places, and this bridge wasn't built as a mere footbridge—it was built to support heavy loads of something."
"Perhaps somewhere way up in those trees there is an old mine," suggested
Fat.
"I've been wondering if there was," slowly questioned Willis. "I'd like to go and look, for I'm not a bit tired." His eyes were big with the wonder of the place.