artz; and seemed, indeed, no unworthy haunt for the weird huntsman,
or the forest fiend. Over this wood the moon now shimmered, with the
pale and feeble light we have already described; and only threw into
a more sombre shade the motionless and gloomy foliage. Of all the
offspring of the forest, the Fir bears, perhaps, the most saddening and
desolate aspect. Its long branches, without absolute leaf or blossom;
its dead, dark, eternal hue, which the winter seems to wither not, nor
the spring to revive, have, I know not what of a mystic and unnatural
life. Around all woodland, there is that horror umbrarum which becomes
more remarkably solemn and awing amidst the silence and depth of night:
but this is yet more especially the characteristic of that sullen
evergreen. Perhaps, too, this effect is increased by the sterile and
dreary soil, on which, when in groves, it is generally found; and its
very hardiness, the very pertinacity with which it draws its strange
unfluctuating life, from the sternest wastes and most reluctant strata,
enhance, unconsciously, the unwelcome effect it is calculated to create
upon the mind. At this place, too, the waters that dashed beneath
gave yet additional wildness to the rank verdure of the wood, and
contributed, by their rushing darkness partially broken by the stars,
and the hoarse roar of their chafed course, a yet more grim and savage
sublimity to the scene.

Winding a narrow path, (for the whole country was as familiar as a
garden to his footstep) that led through the tall wet herbage, almost
along the perilous brink of the stream, Aram was now aware, by the
increased and deafening sound of the waters, that the appointed spot was
nearly gained; and presently the glimmering and imperfect light of the
skies, revealed the dim shape of a gigantic rock, that rose abruptly
from the middle of the stream; and which, rude, barren, vast, as it
really was, seemed now, by the uncertainty of night, like some monstrous
and deformed creature of the waters, suddenly emerging from their vexed
and dreary depths. This was the far-famed Crag, which had borrowed from
tradition its evil and ominous name. And now, the stream, bending round
with a broad and sudden swoop, showed at a little distance, ghostly and
indistinct through the darkness, the mighty Waterfall, whose roar had
been his guide. Only in one streak a-down the giant cataract, the
stars were reflected; and this long train of broken light glittered