82 A TRAMP IN THE CATSKILLS 



space and such bright hues, after wandering in the 

 dim, dense woods! The eye is as delighted as an 

 escaped bird, and darts gleefully from point to point. 



The lake was a long oval, scarcely more than a mile 

 in circumference, with evenly wooded shores, which 

 rose gradually on all sides. After contemplating the 

 scene for a moment, I stepped back into the woods, 

 and, loading my gun as heavily as I dared, discharged it 

 three times. The reports seemed to fill all the moun- 

 tains with sound. The frogs quickly hushed, and I 

 listened for the response. But no response came. Then 

 I tried again and again, but without evoking an 

 answer. One of my companions, however, who had 

 climbed to the top of the high rocks in the rear of the 

 spring, thought he heard faintly one report. It seemed 

 an immense distance below him, and far around under 

 the mountain. I knew I had come a long way, and 

 hardly expected to be able to communicate with my 

 companions in the manner agreed upon. I therefore 

 started back, choosing my course without any reference 

 to the circuitous route by which I had come, and load- 

 ing heavily and firing at intervals. I must have aroused 

 many long-dormant echoes from a Rip Van Winkle 

 sleep. As my powder got low, I fired and halloed alter- 

 nately, till I came near splitting both my throat and 

 gun. Finally, after I had begun to have a very ugly 

 feeling of alarm and disappointment, and to cast about 

 vaguely for some course to pursue in the emergency 

 that seemed near at hand, namely, the loss of my 

 companions now I had found the lake, a favoring 

 breeze brought me the last echo of a response. I 

 rejoined with spirit, and hastened with all speed in the 

 direction whence the sound had come, but, after 



