208 AFOOT THROUGH THE 



day when the summit was reached, and hot and with 

 scanty breath I lay down on the short, stunted heather 

 and wondered why, hopeless of views without any par- 

 ticular inducement, a summit, any summit, almost 

 invariably drew me up, though the climbing was painful 

 and the goal showed not a tithe of the beauties left 

 behind. Perhaps a feeling that enduring unnecessary 

 discomforts will one day be accounted to us for righteous- 

 ness ; perhaps a good self-conceit that will rejoice over 

 the fact of " going one better " than our neighbours ; 

 likeliest of all, the merest chance of seeing a little further 

 afield may be accounted sufficient magnet. That day I 

 was not destined to be rewarded for mv climb, for a 



\j 



rather bitter, withering blast caught me once more and 

 made the dreary walk over boulder-strewn fields but more 

 depressing ; my toes were sore within the leather chaplis 

 I habitually wore, my face felt as if beaten with birches, 

 and the height made head and back ache, but I reached 

 the lonely tarn called the Echo Lake, and felt afraid to 

 raise my voice, fearing to discover my presence to the 

 presiding spirits who seemed so angry and forbidding 

 and warlike. 



I only rested long enough to get a fresh supply of 

 breathing power, chumped some hard biscuits, the only 

 edible portion of my lunch left, the satchel containing 

 that and some drawing materials having slipped while 

 crossing the lower moraine, reducing more fragile 

 portions to an unappetising pulp, and then once more 

 I clambered down. I had intended returning by a 

 different route for the sake of seeing other parts of the 

 great forests, but I did not do so, for the sky was fiercely 

 threatening, the wind harried me so as to make thought 

 or observation difficult, and I feared losing the lightly- 



