The scenery for the next four miles is a series in close succession of views wilder than any on the French Broad. There is nothing like it elsewhere in the Alleghanies. The valley between the mountains, through which the Nantihala pours, is much deeper than that of any other mountain river. The only passage-way that equals it in narrowness alone is the cañon of Linville river, lying below the falls, and between the craggy steeps of Jonas Ridge and Linville mountains. At the most picturesque points the waters sweep in thundering rapids over great marble ledges. The road is stone-paved at the feet of broken-fronted cliffs, dripping with icy water, green with mosses, or brown in nakedness of rock. Across the narrow channel, brilliant leafed birches lean over the agitated current. At the margin of the stream the slope of the opposite mountains begins, which, with impending forests on their precipitous fronts, lift themselves to dizzy altitudes. At times whimpering hawks, circling above the crags, may be heard and seen; but rarely will any other evidences of life be manifest. In two places abandoned clearings lie by the road. They are over-run with wild blackberry bushes and clumps of young forest trees. Two roofless cabins are in their centers; and a few apple trees rise above the rank growth of briers. From appearances, one would judge it to be a score of years since last a barking dog raced back and forth behind the scattered fence rails concealed by the thickets; or its owner, from the entrance to the cabin, saluted the passing traveler. [Illustration: A NARROW WATER-WAY] About one mile below Miller’s is a spot eminently characteristic of the Nantihala’s scenery. The valley has narrowed to a cañon. The road runs through a dense wood. Not a rock is exposed under the trees, or on the perpendicular faces of the mountains. You seem to be in a great, deep well. Only a small circle of sky is visible.