A YEAR IN THE FIELDS 



the chimney. A boy came out and moved 

 toward the spring with a pail in his hand. 

 We shouted to him, when he turned and 

 ran back into the house without pausing 

 to reply. In a moment the whole family 

 hastily rushed into the yard, and turned 

 their faces toward us. If we had come 

 down their chimney, they could not have 

 seemed more astonished. Not making out 

 what they said, I went down to the house, 

 and learned to my chagrin that we were 

 still on the Mill Brook side, having crossed 

 only a spur of the mountain. We had not 

 borne sufficiently to the left, so that the 

 main range, which, at the point of crossing, 

 suddenly breaks off 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 began 

 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 

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