56 East and West 
looked dead and forbidding, is now enveloped 
in pale green, diaphanous as a veil resting 
lightly upon the swamps. A water-loving 
tree, its true home is in this wilderness whose 
countless swamps are all more or less veiled in 
its pale verdure. 
Scattered throughout the Adirondacks and 
lost in the trackless waste are innumerable 
ponds, which lie as if dropped here or there, 
wholly unsuspected by one who has not 
studied the topographical map. These are 
not lacking in this vicinity and serve as ob- 
jective points for excursions from camp. For 
in the wilderness it is impossible merely to 
wander at random with any great satisfaction. 
It would be much like wandering in one’s 
mind. You do not stroll, asin a bit of woods, 
or through the pastures. The wilderness is 
too solemn a country for that. You must 
go somewhere and return. Trails are few and 
lead either to these ponds or to some point 
overlooking the woods, in one case as in the 
other, a breathing place, without which a 
long tramp would be like reading a page with 
no punctuation. 
These lonely little ponds give expression 
to the grave face of the wilderness. How 
solitary they are, wrapped for ever in the si- 
