In the crevices and tiny ravines between the ledges, there were vast beds of damp moss.

In crossing these we went knee-deep, and once waist-deep, into it.

The only plant I saw was a trailing shrublet, sometimes seen on high mountains in New England, and known to botanists as Andromeda of the heathworts.

It had pretty blue-purple flowers, and was growing quite plentifully in sheltered nooks.

Not a bird nor an animal was to be seen.