hill-rim

Updated: May 18, 2025

Trot, trot, over the low, level, mile-long slope he went, and when the Day-god burnt the upper hill-rim he was by brown Tahawus flood and had covered eighteen miles. By the stream he stopped to drink. A partridge cock, in the pride of spring, strutted arrogantly on a log.

Ernest Thompson Seton - Rolf in the Woods