After indulging for some time in a sort of dreamy contemplation I once more gave the bridle to my horse, and rode onward. I was prepared for a tortuous path: my host had forewarned me of this. The _herrikin_, he said, was only three hundred yards in breadth; but I should have to ride nearly twice that distance in crossing it. His statement proved literally true. The old trace, passing down the creek bottom, had run at right angles to the direction of the storm; and, of course, the trees had fallen perpendicularly across the path--where they still lay, thick as hurdles set for a donkey-race. Some of them could be stepped over by a horse, and a few might be "jumped," but there were others that rose breast high; and a flying-leap over a five-barred gate would have been an easy exploit, compared with clearing one of these monstrous barriers. I might add, also, from experience, that leaping a log is a feat of considerable danger. There is no room for "topping;" and should the iron hoof strike, there is nothing that will yield. On the other side, the rider has the pleasant prospect of a broken neck--either for himself or his horse. Not being in any particular hurry, I took the matter quietly; and wound my way through a labyrinth worthy of being the maze of Fair Rosamond. I could not help remarking the singular effect which the _herrikin_ had produced. To the right and left, as far as my view could range, extended an opening, like some vast avenue that had been cleared for the passage of giants, and by giants made! On each side appeared the unbroken forest--the trunks standing like columns, with shadowy aisles between: their outward or edge-row trending in a straight line, as if so planted. These showed not a sign that the fierce tornado had passed so near them; though others, whose limbs almost interlocked with theirs, had been mowed down without mercy by the ruthless storm.