64 EIVERBY 



had but a few morsels of food left, and had been on 

 rather short rations the day before, hunger was added 

 to his other discomforts. At that time a letter was 

 on the way to him from his wife, which contained 

 this prophetic sentence : "I hope thee is not suffer- 

 ing with cold and hunger on some lone mountain- 

 top." 



Mr. Bicknell's thrush struck up again at the first 

 signs of dawn, notwithstanding the cold. I could 

 hear his penetrating and melodious whisper as I lay 

 buried beneath the boughs. Presently I arose and 

 invited my friend to turn in for a brief nap, while 

 I gathered some wood and set the coffee brewing. 

 With a brisk, roaring fire on, I left for the spring 

 to fetch some water, and to make my toilet. The 

 leaves of the mountain goldenrod, which everywhere 

 covered the ground in the opening, were covered 

 with frozen particles of vapor, and the scene, shut 

 in by fog, was chill and dreary enough. 



We were now not long in squaring an account with 

 Slide, and making ready to leave. E-ound pellets of 

 snow began to fall, and we came off the mountain 

 on the 10th of June in a November storm and tem- 

 perature. Our purpose was to return by the same 

 valley we had come. A well-defined trail led off 

 the summit to the north ; to this we committed our- 

 selves. In a few minutes we emerged at the head 

 of the slide that had given the mountain its name. 

 This was the path made by visitors to the scene; 

 when it ended, the track of the avalanche began; no 

 bigger than your hand, apparently, had it been at 



