lay a bridge, made of birch poles, laid from rock to rock, over the deep chasm, and these poles have branches of birch laid thick across them, and turf covers the whole. On the opposite side is a beautiful rocky bank, covered with wood, intermixed with some verdure, coarse grass, rushes, fern, &c. with broken pieces of rock peeping through the stems of trees, weeds, and moss. The bridge appeared so slight, and the depth below so terrific, that I was in some doubt whether I should venture to cross it. My little guide, however, stood upon it, whistling with the utmost unconcern. I followed him; but in truth I looked not on either side, for the bridge vibrated, and the waters roared beneath, so that I was glad to skip over as fast as I could. The bridge, to look at, is a narrow, tottering green path, from rock to rock, not a bit of fence on either side, and about a yard wide.
In order to see this extraordinary bridge and cascades in every possible point of view, I crept through the wood and broken rocks, until I got upon a huge projecting tower, in front of the chasm, where the pent up water rushes through the narrowest passage. In getting, however, to that point, I was obliged to step over several rents in the rocks, of at least a foot wide, the depth of
