A TRAMP IN THE CATSKILLS 73 



woods. We might bear so well to the left that it would 

 bring us ill. But why bear to the left at all, if the lake 

 was directly opposite? Well, not quite opposite; a 

 little to the left. There were two or three other val- 

 leys that headed in near there. We could easily find 

 the right one. But to make assurance doubly sure, 

 we engaged a guide, as stated, to give us a good start, 

 and go with us beyond the bearing-to-the-left point. 

 He had been to the lake the winter before and knew 

 the way. Our course, the first half hour, was along 

 an obscure wood-road which had been used for draw- 

 ing ash logs off the mountain in winter. There was 

 some hemlock, but more maple and birch. The woods 

 were dense and free from underbrush, the ascent 

 gradual. Most of the way we kept the voice of the 

 creek in our ear on the right. I approached it once, 

 and found it swarming with trout. The water was as 

 cold as one ever need wish. After a while the ascent 

 grew steeper, the creek became a mere rill that issued 

 from beneath loose, moss-covered rocks and stones, 

 and with much labor and puflSng we drew ourselves 

 up the rugged declivity. Every mountain has its steep- 

 est point, which is usually near the summit, in keeping, 

 I suppose, with the providence that makes the darkest 

 hour just before day. It is steep, steeper, steepest, 

 till you emerge on the smooth level or gently rounded 

 space at the top, which the old ice-gods polished off 

 so long ago. 



We found this mountain had a hollow in its back 

 where the ground was soft and swampy. Some gi- 

 gantic ferns, which we passed through, came nearly 

 to our shoulders. We passed also several patches of 

 swamp honeysuckles, red with blossoms. 



