AUTUMN 65 



I was determined to hold in reserve against 

 the arrival of my fellow foot-traveler ; but 

 there is also a pleasant shorter course, not 

 round the hill, but, so to speak, over one 

 side of it : out by the way of what I call 

 High Bridge Koad (never having heard any 

 name for it), and back by the road — hardly 

 more than a lane for much of its length — 

 which traverses the hill diagonally on its 

 northeastern slope, and joins the regular Su- 

 gar Hill highway a little below the Franconia 

 Inn. 



I left the Littleton road for the road 

 to the Streeter neighborhood, crossed Gale 

 Eiver by a bridge pitched with much labor 

 at a great height above it (a good indication 

 of the swelling to which mountain streams 

 are subject), passed two or three retired val- 

 ley farms (where were eight or ten sleek 

 young calves, one of which, rather to my sur- 

 prise, ate from my hand a sprig of mint as 

 if she liked the savor of it), and then began 

 a long, steep climb. For much of the dis- 

 tance the road — narrow and very little trav- 

 eled — is lined with dense alder and willow 

 thickets, excellent cover for birds. It was 



