Pretty Paths Hewn Out Of The Wood Lead To Trollhatta, Which Is
Charmingly Situated In A Lovely Valley, Surrounded By Woods And
Hills, On The Shore Of A River, Whose White Foaming Waves Contrast
Strongly With The Dark Foliage Of The Overshadowing Groves.
The
canal, which describes a large semicircle round the chief stream,
glitters in the distance; but the highest locks
Are quite concealed
behind rocks; we could neither observe the opening of the gates nor
the rising of the water in them, and were therefore surprised when
suddenly the masts and then the ship itself rose from the depth. An
invisible hand seemed to raise it up between the rocks.
The falls of the river are less distinguished for their height than
for their diversity and their volumes of water. The principal arm
of the river is divided at the point of decline into two equal falls
by a little island of rock. A long narrow suspension-bridge leads
to this island, and hangs over the fall; but it is such a weak,
frail construction, that one person only can cross it at a time.
The owner of this dangerous path keeps it private, and imposes a
toll of about 3.5d. on all passengers.
A peculiar sensation oppresses the traveller crossing the slender
path. He sees the stream tearing onwards, breaking itself on the
projecting rock, and fall surging into the abyss; he sees the
boiling waves beneath, and feels the bridge vibrate at every
footstep, and timidly hastens to reach the island, not taking breath
to look around until he has found footing; on the firm island.
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