270 WILD LIFE AND THE CAMERA 



clouds drifted lazily, for there it was evidently 

 nearly calm. By the time I had taken a few 

 photographs the clouds began to gather, hiding 

 the topmost peak and warning me to make for 

 the slide before that, too, was hidden ; so, placing 

 my camera into the pack basket, I made for the 

 two stone columns or monuments that mark the 

 top of the slide. The wind, which was increasing 

 in force, was bitterly cold, and I was glad to reach 

 the shelter of the rocks on the slide. Three- 

 quarters of an hour of jumping, slipping, tumbling 

 and running brought me to the birch-bark shack, 

 where I had left my things ; these I soon packed 

 up, and after a lunch of cold grouse, washed down 

 with the most delicious ice-cold water from a 

 mountain stream, I started back to the mouth of 

 the Katahdin brook, well satisfied at having 

 reached a goal so magnificent, one well worth all 

 the labour it had cost. 



As I entered the woods near the bottom of the 

 slide, the squirrels and birds became more plentiful. 

 I had noticed chicadees and robins not far below 

 the timber line, and on the table-land there were 

 two sparrows. They were, however, so wild that 

 I was unable to get near enough to identify them. 

 I could not help wondering why they should 

 choose a spot so bleak and unprotected. Footsore 

 and weary, I arrived at my camp on the river side 

 by four o'clock. Looking back at the mountain 

 on which I had stood but a few hours since, I saw 

 that it was heavily draped with clouds, and I was 

 glad that they had kept away while I was there. 



The next day it was raining hard, so I rested 



