A TRAMP IN THE CATSKILLS 75 



played us a trick, or, as seemed more likely, had missed 

 the way. We were particularly anxious to be at the 

 lake between sundown and dark, as at that time the 

 trout jump most freely. 



Pushing on, we soon emerged into a stumpy field, 

 at the head of a steep valley, which swept around 

 toward the west. About two hundred rods below us 

 was a rude log house, with smoke issuing from 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 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 



