The descent into the
valley on the Nashua side, is by far the most sudden; and a couple of
miles brought us to the southern branch of the Nashua, a shallow but rapid
stream, flowing between high and gravelly banks. But we soon learned that
there were no _gelidae valles_ into which we had descended, and missing
the coolness of the morning air, feared it had become the sun's turn to
try his power upon us.
"The sultry sun had gained the middle sky,
And not a tree, and not an herb was nigh."
and with melancholy pleasure we echoed the melodious plaint of our
fellow-traveller, Hassan, in the desert,--
"Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day,
When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way."
The air lay lifeless between the hills, as in a seething caldron, with no
leaf stirring, and instead of the fresh odor of grass and clover, with
which we had before been regaled, the dry scent of every herb seemed
merely medicinal. Yielding, therefore, to the heat, we strolled into the
woods, and along the course of a rivulet, on whose banks we loitered,
observing at our leisure the products of these new fields. He who
traverses the woodland paths, at this season, will have occasion to
remember the small drooping bell-like flowers and slender red stem of the
dogs-bane, and the coarser stem and berry of the poke, which are both
common in remoter and wilder scenes; and if "the sun casts such a
reflecting heat from the sweet fern," as makes him faint, when he is
climbing the bare hills, as they complained who first penetrated into
these parts, the cool fragrance of the swamp pink restores him again, when
traversing the valleys between.
As we went on our way late in the afternoon, we refreshed ourselves by
bathing our feet in every rill that crossed the road, and anon, as we were
able to walk in the shadows of the hills, recovered our morning
elasticity. Passing through Sterling, we reached the banks of the
Stillwater, in the western part of the town, at evening, where is a small
village collected. We fancied that there was already a certain western
look about this place, a smell of pines and roar of water, recently
confined by dams, belying its name, which were exceedingly grateful. When
the first inroad has been made, a few acres levelled, and a few houses
erected, the forest looks wilder than ever. Left to herself, nature is
always more or less civilized, and delights in a certain refinement; but
where the axe has
encroached upon the edge of the forest, the dead and unsightly limbs of
the pine, which she had concealed with green banks of verdure, are exposed
to sight. This village had, as yet, no post-office, nor any settled name.
In the small villages which we entered, the villagers gazed after us, with
a complacent, almost compassionate look, as if we were just making our
_debut_ in the world at a late hour. "Nevertheless," did they seem to say,
"come and study us, and learn men and manners." So is each one's world but
a clearing in the forest, so much open and inclosed ground. The landlord
had not yet returned from the field with his men, and the cows had yet to
be milked. But we remembered the inscription on the wall of the Swedish
inn, "You will find at Trolhate excellent bread, meat, and wine, provided
you bring them with you," and were contented.
