ALONE UP MT. KATAHDIN 269 



wind was blowing half a gale from the north-west. 

 The prospects were not hopeful for photography. 

 At half-past six I started up what proved to be the 

 most tiring climb I have ever experienced. 



The slide, which is the best way up, on the south 

 side of the mountain, is abroad strip of rocks and 

 gravel. Most of the rocks are loosely piled up, 

 with channels of gravel between, and here and 

 there a scrubby bush, whose branches are extremely 

 tough, strives for existence in such unpromising 

 surroundings. The walking is most difficult, and it 

 was only with the aid of a stout staff that I was 

 able to force my way upwards. In parts the 

 rocks were of great size, and the utmost care was 

 necessary to avoid slipping between them. At a 

 quarter past eight I crawled through an opening 

 between two gigantic rocks and found myself on 

 the table-land on the summit of Mt. Katahdin. 

 This was not the highest point, that was about 

 two miles further to the east. There it is 5,385 feet 

 above sea level. 



The wind was blowing with such force that I 

 did not attempt to cross the narrow strip that leads 

 to the highest peak, but contented myself with 

 admiring the superb view. As far as the eye could 

 reach there were rivers and lakes, large and small, 

 shining like silver flakes through the thin purple 

 mist; much to my disappointment the distance 

 was entirely hidden from view, so that I was 

 unable to get any photographs but those of the 

 nearer objects. The north-east side of the 

 mountain is an abrupt precipice of solid rock 

 about 4,000 feet high. Over the lower lands the 



