Here and there, now and then, Alexander halted.

These were recesses, or it might be projecting platforms of rock, that he liked.

Below, the stream made still pools, or moved in eddies, or leaped with an innumerable hurrying noise from level to level.

Or again there held a reach of quiet water, and the glen-sides were soft with weeping birch, and there showed a wider arch of still blue sky.

Alexander stood and looked.