8 14 Camps and Tramps About Ktaadn. 



Appalachian mountains. In the midst of our musings, suddenly an 

 avalanche came tearing down the precipice — enormous rocks bound- 

 ing from ledge to ledge, bursting and scattering as they struck, 

 throwing out white clouds like cannon smoke, and finally lost in 

 the crashing forest below. The long time occupied in the descent 

 gave evidence of the enormous height of the precipice. 



But the afternoon brought a rapid change of scene. As the 

 party from Lake Ktaadn came straggling in, a storm — which can 

 be so quickly brewed on a mountain-top — had no sooner thrown 

 its shadow upon us than its substance followed in wind and rain, 

 driving us into the little temporary tent while the guides were 

 preparing a better one. During the intervals in the storm, our 

 united exertions resulted, before dark, in a logged tent, well 

 shielded and floored with boughs. We supped, and packed our 

 supplies and ourselves into night-quarters during a drizzling rain, 

 choked and blinded every few minutes by clouds of smoke, which 

 the eddying wind flung in every direction, and secretly brooding, 

 every one, over the probability that the equinoctial had caught us 

 in that meteorological whirlpool, Ktaadn Basin. 



At midnight, Pomola, the deity of this domain, who had so 

 sweetly beguiled us into his den, gave us a taste of his wrath. Being 

 at the tempestuous corner of the tent, I was roused from my dreams 

 by a ripping and a snapping of things in general, and awoke to find 

 the roof gone, the protecting boughs blown over, a torrent of rain 

 pouring upon us, and the last embers of the camp-fire nearly extin- 

 guished. The guides' tent had quite disappeared in the gust. 

 But before the general eye had perceived the situation, the 

 ever-ready John had pulled back and fastened down our flapping 

 roof, and given an impetus to the fire. Then there was a general 

 re-adjustment in the tent ; the edges of underlying rubber cloths 

 were propped up so that water would not run in, and overlying wraps 

 were ridged so that rain would run off. Always excepting that old 

 campaigner, Don Gifaro — he wasted no time by waking up and fool- 

 ing around in the dark. I got hold of the tea, and slept with it the 

 rest of the night under my water-proofs, and somebody else did the 

 same with the sugar. 



Ascending the mountain was the prescribed work of the next 

 day, and we made an early start. It soon became so warm that we 



