166 LOCUSTS AND WILD HONEY 



pressed, wliich the hunter aims to bestride; rising 

 rapidly from this is pretty sure to be a rough, curv- 

 ing ridge that carries the forest up to some highest 

 peak. We were lucky in hitting the saddle, but we 

 could see a little to the south the sharp, steep neck 

 of the steed sweeping up toward the sky with an 

 erect mane of balsam fir. 



These mountains are steed-like in other respects: 

 any timid and vacillating course with them is sure 

 to get you into trouble. One must strike out boldly, 

 and not be disturbed by the curveting and shying; 

 the valley you want lies squarely behind them, but 

 farther off than you think, and if you do not go for 

 it resolutely you will get bewildered and the moun- 

 tain will play you a trick. 



I may say that Aaron and I kept a tight rein and 

 a good pace till we struck a watercourse on the other 

 side, and that we clattered down it with no want of 

 decision till it emptied into a larger stream which 

 we knew must be the East Branch. An abandoned 

 fishpole lay on the stones, marking the farthest point 

 reached by some fisherman. According to our reck- 

 oning, we were five or six miles above the settle- 

 ment, with a good depth of primitive woods all 

 about us. 



We kept on down the stream, now and then paus- 

 ing at a likely place to take some trout for dinner, 

 and with an eye out for a good camping-ground. 

 Many of the trout were full of ripe spawn, and a 

 few had spawned, the season with them being a 

 little later than on the stream we had left, perhaps 



