166 WAKE-ROBIN 



to the southeast, still intervened between us and 

 the lake. We were about five miles, as the water 

 runs, from the point of starting, and over two from 

 the lake. We must go directly back to the top of 

 the range where the guide had left us, and then, by 

 keeping well to the left, we would soon come to a 

 line of marked trees, which would lead us to the 

 lake. So, turning upon our trail, we doggedly be- 

 gan the work of undoing what we had just done, — 

 in all cases a disagreeable task, in this case a very 

 laborious one also. It was after sunset when we 

 turned back, and before we had got half way up 

 the mountain it began to be quite dark. We were 

 often obliged to rest our packs against trees and take 

 breath, which made our progress slow. Finally a 

 halt was called, beside an immense flat rock which 

 had paused in its slide down the mountain, and we 

 prepared to encamp for the night. A fire was built, 

 the rock cleared off, a small ration of bread served 

 out, our accoutrements hung up out of the way of 

 the hedgehogs that were supposed to infest the 

 locality, and then we disposed ourselves for sleep. 

 If the owls or porcupines (and I think I heard one 

 of the latter m the middle of the night) reconnoitred 

 our camp, they saw a buffalo robe spread upon a 

 rock, with three old felt hats arranged on one side, 

 and three pairs of sorry-looking cowhide boots pro- 

 truding from the other. 



When we lay down, there was apparently not a 

 mosquito in the woods; but the "no-see-ems," as 

 Thoreau's Indian aptly named the midges, soon 



