BIRCH BROWSINGS 165 
iously through the trees for a glimpse of the lake, 
or for some conformation of the land that would 
indicate its proximity. An object which we vaguely 
discerned in looking under the near trees and over 
the more distant ones proved, on further inspection, 
to be a patch of plowed ground. Presently we 
made out a burnt fallow near it. This was a wet 
blanket to our enthusiasm. No lake, no sport, no 
trout for supper that night. The rather indolent 
young man had either played us a trick, or, as 
seemed more likely, had missed the way. "We were 
particularly anxious to be at the lake between sun- 
down and dark, as at that time the trout jump 
most freely. 
Pushing on, we soon emerged into a stumpy field, 
at the head of a steep valley, which swept around 
toward the west. About two hundred rods below 
us was a rude log house, with smoke issuing from 
the chimney. A boy came out and moved toward 
the spring with a pail in his hand. We shouted to 
him, when he turned and ran back into the house 
without pausing to reply. In a moment the whole 
family hastily rushed into the yard, and turned 
their faces toward us. If we had come down their 
chimney, they could not have seemed more aston- 
ished. Not making out what they said, I went 
down to the house, and learned to my chagrin that 
we were still on the Mill Brook side, having crossed 
only a spur of the mountain. We had not borne 
sufficiently to the left, so that the main range, 
which, at the point of crossing, suddenly breaks off 
