A RIDE TO POLLARDS. 223 



in a while, till we could grasp a bush, then up on our 

 feet, and along the hill-top to the path which leads from 

 the Flume House to the pool, and so up to the road 

 where the good horse Jack with the buck-board was wait- 

 ing for us. 



A day's fishing like this gives us no large fish, and so 

 many small ones that we seldom count them. We often 

 have from four to five hundred trout in our baskets as the 

 result of such a day on the Pemigewasset. 



There is much to be found besides trout in the valley 

 of the Pemigewasset, and he is not a thoroughly skilled 

 angler who has failed to learn the pleasure of finding 

 people and character and life in instructive forms as he 

 goes along a brook. 



The morning after our fishing the river was lowery and 

 threatening. The clouds hung low and the mountain- 

 tops were invisible. But with a conviction that the day 

 would not after all be rainy, I determined to go down the 

 valley and up the East Branch to Pollard's, to make some 

 inquiries about the possibility and practicability of an ex- 

 pedition up that valley and over the Willey Mountain to 

 the Crawford Notch and Crawford House. 



We did not get away till noon, and then found the 

 roads in bad order from heavy rain in the night. 



The clouds were lifting, but their aspect on the mount- 

 ain-sides was full of solemn magnificence. Here and 

 there they were lit with sunshine vainly seeking to burst 

 through them, and where these lights occurred the white 

 mists seemed full of life, moving in wild circles or hurry- 

 ing back and forth as if in feeble fright at their approach- 

 ing evanishment. Far down the valley, under the long 

 line of sombre clouds, there was a break of blue in the 

 distant sky, and from our high position we seemed to look 



