Jan. 1, 1898.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
3 
into its azure depths. A week before this very forest 
had loolced like a mere stubble field, relieved here and 
there by a stunted bush. But that was viewed from the 
lake. How broad and important tlie blue lake had 
looked' then! How insignificant and small it looked 
now! — 
Late in tlie afternoon the packs had grown heavier 
and heavier, the sun perched on Pamela's eyrie peak 
for a brief iiioment, and then plunged down and left our 
side of the mountain in the deep shadow. Far away in 
the east wei"e undulating peaks still tipped with the sun's 
golden rays, but the valleys had taken on a somljer hue 
of evening. It became evident that we must push on 
fa.ster or night would overtake us on the mountain side, 
where it would be impossible to camp. 
Wood and water we must have, also fir boughs with 
which to build a lean-to and make up the "field bed." 
All were worn and weary from the extraordinary labor 
of the two days and the lack of rest at Camp Comfort. 
Suddenlj' the shout, "Water ahead!" came from the 
advance guard, and it was taken up and echoed joyously 
by the weary toilers in the rear. But the water was 
not there, to our great disappointment. Instead of the 
pretty little lake we expected to find there was nothing 
but a mere puddle in the center of an acre or so of bar- 
ren rocks, no chance for wood or level space for camp. 
Signs on every hand showed that at some seasons the 
whole clearing was covered with water. Here we found 
our first sample of the famous "pucker brush." A fringe 
of this remarkable growth surrounded the clear space. 
A strong breeze was blowing down from off the moun- 
tain, and it was easy to see how the wintry gales could 
bend and gnarl the bushes into a stunted growth. But 
the remarkr.lly twisted and burled limbs and roots were 
nothing short of wonderful. Trees that in the more pro- 
tected depths of the forest would have been tall balsam 
firs were here stunted and dwarfed by the perpetual bat- 
tle with the elements. Their roots reached far down 
into the crannies of the rocks and grasped and clung on 
for life to the little nourishment to be gathered from the 
sparse earth 3Mrds below. Above the limbs blow 
straight out and flatten down, spreading and matting to- 
gether in a tangled matted mass. But the "pucker brush" 
here was but a mere imitation of that to be found on 
the mountain top, where trees of a century's growth are 
less than 5ft. high, and their limbs have grown out over 
yards of surface and interwoven with limbs of other 
trees, the whole forming an impenetrable barrier to all 
who would pass. Even the caribou, that powerful mon- 
arch of the mountain, knows the fate that awaits him if 
he runs into this entangling mass. As has been proven 
hundreds of times, the caribou prefers to face the death- 
dealing rifle of the hunter than to try to force a way 
through the trackless "pucker brush." The only time a 
caribou has been found there is when he has jumped 
there to die after receiving a mortal wound. 
The light in the clearing showed that we would have 
an hour more to travel before dark, and after a brief 
rest the caravan moved on. There was no hard wood 
there and a good big camp-fire was needed, for the 
night was a cold one. The deep shadows of the forest 
were gloomy enough, and we were glad that the trees 
had "bled" some after they had been spotted by the axe 
of the pioneer who blazed out the trail, for the white 
spots were necessaiy in the semi-darkness. Here we 
marched with the ranks closed up, and many words of 
encouragement were necessary, for the ladies were near- 
ly exhausted. Forttmately the trail was comparatively 
easy as the level of the South Basin was reached, and 
we were even then inside the lower rim of the immense 
crater. Silently we plodded on over the soft, velvety 
carpet of deep moss. 
Night had fallen and the oxxtlook was gloomy, but 
Around the edges of this bar on the south was a fringe 
of tall dead grass, while on the north side the forest 
came down sheer to the edge of the bat. 
This was to be the scene of the straitgest phenomenon 
the basin from the bleak north peak and sang a solemn 
requiem through the trectops, and from somewhere out 
in the blackness of the night an owl hooted his slow, 
melancholy call. Hovering tjefpre the new-born camp- 
PAMOLA PEAK— SHOWING THE MONUMENT. 
Photo by Mr. F. E. Farnsworth. 
any of us had ever witnessed. Down through this open 
space a stream of ice-cold water flowed. At that time 
the stream was about 2ft. wide and 4in. deep. It was 
afterward recalled that the ladies easily stepped across 
it. When we crossed the bar and entered the woods we 
found a fine level spot surrounded by plenty of hard 
wood. Some old ciead stumps would furnish dry wood, 
and white aiid yellow birch would go to make a hot 
MT. KATAHDIN FROM 
Photo by Mr. F. 
once more from the leader came the shout, "Water 
ahead!" and a second later the sharp, ringing blows of 
the axe showed that camp was to be made at once. 
Plunging down a sharp incline for 30ft. we emerged 
into an oblong clearing of about five acres. It proved 
to be a sandbar and was nearly level. Across on the 
other si4e, at the lower end, was a group of boulders. 
NEAR ABOL CARRY. 
E. Farnswotth. 
fire and warming embers late in the night. Then, too, 
there were splendid fir balsams near at hand to furnish 
"feathers" for our bed and broad boughs for the lean-to, 
and, though it isn't generally known, fir trees, when lib- 
erall}' piled on, make a good fire and give out intense 
heat. 
The night was cold and the wind swept down through 
fire the ladies were bundled in shawls and blankets, 
while over their heads grew a slanting roof of feathery 
boughs, and soon Dewdrop Inn, as tlie new camp was 
called, was an estabhshed institution. 
A roaring fire grew up around a great root-wadded 
stump. As the ruddy flames climbed on high so the 
spirits of the campers rose, and soon the forest was full 
of the melody of song and an excellent supper was 
quickly on the fire. 
Frank made a great flaring torch of birch bark and by 
the light of it was throwing trees and cutting them into 
lengths for the night's fire. 
Taking two tin pails and a torch, Madison and I went 
for water, not forgetting to take a cup along, for we re- 
membered the stream was shallow and narrow. We 
were greatly surprised to find, instead of the tiny brook we 
had stepped a.cross, that the bar was nearly covered with 
water, and already a lake had been formed that covered 
several acres. In the morning there was fully 4ft. of 
water in the clearing and about four acres were sub- 
merged. In addition to this a smooth glare of ice cov- 
ered the unrufiled surface of the lake. We named it 
Lake Mystery, and it still remains a mystery to us, for 
we made no attempt to find the cause of the strange ac- 
tion of the water. It might have had a commonplace 
solution, and I didn't propose to spoil a good story by 
idle investigation. 
After supper, when the logs were heaped high on the 
camp-fire, and everybody had settled down in a com- 
fortable place, we told Mr. Tracy of the transformation 
of the dry sandbar into a beautiful lake, and asked him 
for an explanation of the strange occurrence. After a 
few moments of deep thought this master of woodcraft 
replied slowly: "I am going to tell yon the legend of 
Pamola, then you can draw your own inferences." 
Then, as we sat looking dreamily into the embers at 
the front of the fire, watching the salamanders of imag- 
ination come and go, or idly followed the snakelike dart- 
ing of the soarks as they rose from the crackling blaze 
until they faded out in the blackness above, we heard 
the story of Pamela's wild love; heard how this red 
Lochinvar of the forest claimed and rode away with his 
bride; of the wild pursuit and subsequent haunting of 
the mountain. The weird story was graphically told, 
and the narrator held his listeners silent and intensely 
interested to the end. 
Briefly sketched and from memory, the legend was 
this: The chief of a tribe of Penobscots who dwelt in 
the East was the father of a wonderfully beautiful 
daughter with whom all the eligible youths of the tribe 
were desperately in love. Pamola, a young chief from 
a tribe in the West, said to be Dakotas, came East and 
was welcomed in the wigwams of the Eastern Indians. 
Pamola, the young, handsome Western warrior, met 
the Penobscot maiden, and succumbed to her charms. The 
chief's daughter reciprocated, and affairs progressed so 
smoothly for the Dakota chieftain that great jealousy 
developed in the breasts of the Penobscot warriors, and 
at their instigation Pamola was soon banished from the 
