THE SOUTHERN CATSKILLS 



the water alone; he cannot drink enough of it. In 

 this particular it is indeed the good Bible land, " a 

 land of brooks of water, of fountains and depths that 

 spring out of valleys and hills." 



Near the forks we caught, or thought we caught, 

 through an opening, a glimpse of Slide. Was it 

 Slide ? was it the head, or the rump, or the shoulder 

 of the shaggy monster we were in quest of ? At the 

 forks there was a bewildering maze of underbrush 

 and great trees, and the way did not seem at all cer- 

 tain; nor was David, who was then at the end of his 

 reckoning, able to reassure us. But in assaulting a 

 mountain, as in assaulting a fort, boldness is the 

 watchword. We pressed forward, following a line 

 of blazed trees for nearly a mile, then, turning to the 

 left, began the ascent of the mountain. It was steep, 

 hard climbing. We saw numerous marks of both 

 bears and deer; but no birds, save at long intervals 

 the winter wren flitting here and there, and darting 

 under logs and rubbish like a mouse. Occasionally 

 its gushing, lyrical song would break the silence. 

 After we had climbed an hour or two, the clouds 

 began to gather, and presently the rain began to 

 comedown. This was discouraging; but we put our 

 backs up against trees and rocks, and waited for the 

 shower to pass. 



"They were wet with the showers of the moun- 

 tain, and embraced the rocks for want of shelter," 

 as they did in Job's time. But the shower was 

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