14000 MILES 



tation in that wild spot, at three o'clock, and as soon as 

 we could register our names we hastened away for 

 Table Rock, a narrow peak 800 feet above the meadow in 

 front of the Dix House and 3150 feet above the sea. It 

 was the roughest climb we ever attempted — almost per- 

 pendicular, and everything we took hold of seemed to 

 give way. 



Once at the top we looked aghast at the narrow path, 

 hardly four feet wide, then with open arms rushed across 

 and embraced the flagstaff on Table Rock. It seemed as 

 if the foundation was rocking beneath us, but after a 

 little time we went back and forth confidently. The air 

 was clear and the view very fine. Just below the summit, 

 a tiny path, with scarcely a foothold, led to an ice cave, 

 and we refreshed ourselves by looking into its cooling 

 depths. When safely at the foot again we cut some 

 spruce walking sticks for souvenirs and stripped the bark 

 as we walked back to the Dix House. 



It rained the next day and the mountains were visible 

 through the mist only now and then. We sketched 

 Table Rock and the Notch profile in instal- 

 ments, reading and writing between times, and enjoyed 

 the very lonesomeness of the place. The clouds made 

 way for the moon at night, but we were disheartened 

 next morning to find they had settled down closer than 

 ever, although the rain was over. We could not wait 

 another day, and packed up, hoping it would all come 

 out right, as many times before. Our wildest hopes were 

 more than realized when we entered the Notch, and 

 found it clear ahead. The clouds had driven through 

 and settled about the meadows. It is two miles through 



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