THE HEART OF THE SOUTHERN CATSKILLS 49 



key ? Loudness would avail little in such a place. 

 Sounds are not far heard on a mountain- top ; they 

 are lost in the abyss of vacant air. But amid these 

 low, dense, dark spruces, which make a sort of can- 

 opied privacy of every square rod of ground, what 

 could be more in keeping than this delicate musical 

 whisper 1 It was but the soft hum of the balsams, 

 interpreted and embodied in a bird's voice. 



It was the plan of two of our companions to go 

 from Slide over into the head of the Rondout, and 

 thence out to the railroad at the little village of 

 Shokan, an unknown way to them, involving nearly 

 an all- day pull the first day through a pathless wil- 

 derness. We ascended to the topmost floor of the 

 tower, and from my knowledge of the topography 

 of the country I pointed out to them their course, 

 and where the valley of the Rondout must lie. The 

 vast stretch of woods, when it came into view from 

 under the foot of Slide, seemed from our point of 

 view very uniform. It swept away to the southeast, 

 rising gently toward the ridge that separates Lone 

 Mountain from Peak-o' -Moose, and presented a com- 

 paratively easy problem. As a clue to the course, 

 the line where the dark belt or saddle-cloth of spruce, 

 which covered the top of the ridge they were to skirt, 

 ended, and the deciduous woods began, a sharp, well- 

 defined line was pointed out as the course to be fol- 

 lowed. It led straight to the top of the broad level- 

 backed ridge which connected two higher peaks, and 

 immediately behind which lay the headwaters of the 

 Rondout. Having studied the map thoroughly, and 



