HEART OF THE SOUTHERN CATSKILLS 41 



Was it Slide, was it the head, or the rump, or 

 the shoulder of the shaggy monster we were m 

 quest of ? At the forks there was a bewilder- 

 ing maze of underbrush and great trees, and 

 the way did not seem at all certain, nor was 

 David, who was then at the end of his reckon- 

 ing, able to reassure us. But in assaulting a 

 mountain, as in assaulting a fort, boldness is 

 the watchword. We pressed forward, following 

 a line of blazed trees for nearly a mile, then turn- 

 ing to the left began the ascent of the moun- 

 tafn. It was steep, hard climbing. We saw 

 numerous marks of both bears and deer; but no 

 birds, save at long intervals the winter wren 

 flitting here and there and darting under logs 

 and rubbish like a mouse. Occasionally its 

 gushing lyrical song would break the silence. 

 After we had climbed an hour or two, the 

 clouds began to gather, and presently the ram 

 began to come down. This was discouraging; 

 but we put our backs up against trees and 

 rocks, and waited for the shower to pass. 



"They were wet with the showers of the 

 mountain and embraced the rocks for want of 

 shelter," as they did in Job's time. But the 

 shower was light and brief, and we were soon 

 under way again. Three hours from the forks 

 broucrht us out on the broad level back of the 

 mountain upon which Slide, considered as an 

 isolated peak, is reared. After a time we en- 

 tered a dense growth of spruce which covered 

 a slight depression in the table of the moun- 

 tain. The moss was deep, the ground spongy. 



