Jan. i4,.T8yg.l 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
23 
Tucker's, a lumbering station at the very base of the peak. 
From this point radiated a network of lumber roads, many 
of which extended far up into the dense forest on the high 
shoulders of the mountain. At Tucker's we found a com- 
fortable stable for our weary horse, and after a hearty 
junch, washed down with cool spring water, we set about 
preparing our burdens for the upward tramp. Each had 
two blankets (rubber and woolen), a sweater, and his 
share of the provisions and cooking utensils. Finding 
milk obtainable at the house near the mill, we procured 
A bottleful, although such a luxury was really unnecessary. 
Water was likely to prove the most necessary thing on the 
summit, and we carried an empty pail, which we intended 
to fill at the highest point on the mountain where good 
water was to be found, for we were skeptical as to the 
existence of the spring, about which our friend of the 
morning had spoken, on or very near the summit. Our 
inethods of arranging the packs were marked by in- 
dividuality. The Professor slung his across his back by a 
trunk strap. I attached mine to the axe and swung tliat 
instrument over my shoulder, much to the later discom- 
fort of the shoulder. The Lawyer was more scientific, and 
arranged his blankets in the regulation army roll, so that 
they passed over his left shoulder and met beneath his 
right arm. 
Thus equipped, we started forth, like a trio of cam- 
paigners, up the steep, half-obliterated lumber road, 
through the fragrant woods. We had started at 2 o'clock 
and had estimated that it woitld require three hours to 
reach the summit, a calculation which proved almost ex- 
actly right. It required but a few minutes to start the 
sweat pouring from our bodies, in spite of the coolness of 
the woods. The packs, too, increased steadily in weight, 
so that halts were called not infrequently, for we were 
not out to break a record. But despite the hard work, we 
still had breath enough for conversation, and now and 
then a burst of poetry, for there is a quality about a virgin 
forest that causes one to recall — ^yes, and repeat — all the 
moving verse he knows. It is the subtle power of nature 
working on minds ordinarily removed from her influence. 
Let that man whose system is stale from much work in 
one of the manj' prisons so common among the dwellers in 
cities hie himself to the country and climb a mountain 
three-quarters of a mile high, if he wishes to purge him- 
self of all the poisonous elements of mind or body. There 
is no medicine like it. 
The loss of so mucli liquid through our pores 
produced- . a corresponding thirst which we were 
glad to slake at each of the sparkling brooks that crossed 
-our path. We kept bearing ofif in the general direction of 
the summit, as we had marked it by the compass, bent on 
following the wood roads as long as they would serve 
us. At last, when occasional glimpses of the valley told 
us that we were getting pretty well up, our particular 
road began to lead in an unsatisfactory direction, and we 
held a council of war, the result of which was a determina- 
tion to strike directly up the side of the mountain. There 
is one simple recipe for climbing such a peak: Keep going 
up and you are sure to reach the summit. We advanced, 
maintaining considerable intervals, so that if there' should 
be a possible trail we might run a better chance of striking 
it. And here began our hardest work, for our progress 
was barred by thick iinderbrusli, fallen trees and boulders, 
and was necessarily very slow, hampered as we were by 
our unwieldy packs. It was breathless work. Sometimes 
one of us w^ould fall, but the ground was so well carpeted 
with moss and creepers that no bruises resulted. Soon 
we saw by the more stunted appearance of the trees that 
we were nearing the summit. And here I may remark 
that the growth on Belvidere is much more sturdy than 
that on Mansfield, perhaps owing to lower altitude, but 
more likely to better soil, for I have been on many moun- 
tains not nearly so high, on which there was scarcely any 
vegetation for some distance below the summit. Belvidere 
has some respectable trees on the very summit, while the 
Dome of the Berkshires, for instanc'te, a mountain far to 
the south and probably over 1,000ft. lower, has nothing 
but dwarf evergreens and a few scraggy birches. This 
feature of the mountain rather discouraged us, for it 
caused us to think the summit more distant than it really 
was. At last, after half an hour of hard scrambling, the 
Professor and I, who happened to be near together, 
reached a sort of shotilder of the mountain, where we 
paused to reconnoiter. While we were speculating as to 
the shortest way to the summit, we heard a shout of 
triumph from the Lawyer away to our left. We shouted 
an answer, and knowing that he was nearing the goal, set 
off without a thought of weariness. We fairly raced 
through the brush, and in a few minutes reached the point 
where he stood, fanning himself with his hat and absorb- 
ing the magnificent view to the east afforded by a break 
in the tree. There is always a point in the way up 
such _ a peak at which one is pretty firmly convinced 
that it is hardly worth while to work so hard for a mere 
view, and half decides that the valleys are beautiful 
enough for him, but all such faint-hearted weaknesses are 
forgotten as soon as he stands upon the summit and sur- 
veys with a sense of victory the beauty which his per- 
severance has enabled him to behold. Just so in life — but 
I will not moralize. 
We found the summit, which might have been 70 or 
80yds. in length by 30 extreme width, well wooded, ex- 
cept on the south, where ledges of rock prevented vegeta- 
tion, and allowed an unimpeded view in every direction 
save the north. And what a view ! Belvidere, thou art 
well named ! Hardly anything after all can excel New 
England scenery for well-balanced loveliness. There are 
many grander prospects, but none more satisfying in their 
beauty than those commanded by scores of New Etigland 
mountain peaks. To the east lay the network til Ver- 
mont meadow, forest and hill, with the dim foi-ms of the 
\yhite Hills for a background; to the south artd north, 
billow on billow of the Green Mountains dominated by 
the huge bulk of Mansfield ; to the west more Vermont 
meadows and the sheen of Lake Champlain, backed by the 
clustered peaks of the Adirondacks. .And over all spread 
the beauty of sunlight and cloud arid sky. while about us 
was that peculiar, peaceful stillness that dwells on moun- 
tain summits. 
On the borders of the ledge we kindled our fire, and 
while the Lawyer tended it and the Professor gathered 
material for a balsam bed, I scouted unsuccessfully for the 
spring of which our friend of the morning had told us. 
My search was far from thorough, and it may be that I 
missed it. I was encouraged in my quest by the recollec- 
tion of the well-known spring only a few yards below the 
summit of Whiteface in the Adirondacks, at the top of the 
slide which gives the mountain its name, and of which 
this trickling water was doubtless the cause. At length, 
however, I gave up the search and aided the Professor 
in his bed-making beneath the boughs of some protecting 
firs. When we had constructed a large, even pile of bal- 
sam twigs we spread over it our rubber blankets and our 
bed was ready for us. We had scarcely finished the work 
when our friend called us out to watch the shadow of 
the peak retreating across the valley. The sun was fast 
nearing the horizon, and threw the silhouette of our 
mountain far out over the eastern valley. There we could 
mark it as it crept steadily on, a huge cone of shade, up 
tlie sunlit slopes, until the sinking sun left all alike in 
shadow. 
Not one of us was an adept in the art of cooking, and I 
will not relate all our tribulations in the preparation of 
supper. Once the wood shifted beneath a pan of salt 
pork, which was just getting browned to a turn, and 
tilted it .so that the flames lit the pork and a conflagration 
ensued. I seized the pan and made a vain effort to ex- 
tinguish the flames, but succeeded only in getting some 
hot fat on my fingers. Then came a war dance in which 
by dint of much hopping about on one foot and violent 
blowing on my fingers, I restored them to their normal 
state of feeling. I am afraid that the other two enjoyed 
the dance more than they regietted the loss of the pork! 
Suffice it to say that, though the potatoes were slightly 
scorched, and the fried eggs were not things of beauty to 
the aye, the requisite taste was there, and more important 
.still, the supply held out. And after our climb our ap- 
petites were ready for anything. Supper over and the 
tin plates scoured with paper, for our supply of Avater was 
too precious to waste, we settled about the fire, pipes lit. 
and enjoyed such a chat as only congenial .'Spirits about a 
camp-fire can enjoy, while far below in tlie valley twinkled 
the lights of numberless villages and farms, and about 
us sighed the cool night wind. Such an evening was well 
worth the toils of the day, but, enjoyable as it was, we 
could not prolong it indefinitely, for it was our purpose 
to be up in time for the sunrise. And so at about 10 
o'clock we turned in. 
During the afternoon a few drops of rain had fallen, but 
the wind had shifted to the north and evervthing promised 
a fine night. Our bed proved surprisingly comfortable, 
and the night was so mild that there was no fear lest our 
supply of clothing prove insufficient. At first, indeed, I 
was uncomfortably warm. We drew lots as a convenient 
way to decide our positions. The Professor drew the 
center, and after he had comfortably settled his 6ft. and 
more of length the Lawyer and I anchored ourselves on 
either side. How delicious it was to lie there on those 
fragrant boughs, above us a canopy of dark evergreens 
through whose branches the white stars gleamed and dis- 
appeared amid the scudding clouds, listening to that in- 
describably mysterious sound, the murmuring of the wind 
through the firs. Now it would sink to a whisper, again 
gradually increasing it would rise to a moan, To me it is 
one of the most fascinating sounds in nature. Once dur- 
ing the night I was aroused by a few drops of Vain, which 
fell on my face from a passing cloud. I started up on my 
elbow, but the brilliant moonlight, which almost imme- 
diately flooded the mountain, reassured me. and I dozed 
off once more. The next time I awoke I felt that inex- 
pressible change in the night which betokens the coming 
of the dawn. The Lawyer, too, was awake, but in a 
whispered dialogue over the body of the Professor, who 
was making the woods resound with his snores, we agreed 
that it would be still some time before sunrise, and so lay 
down again. Soon, however, the decided increase in the 
grayness warned us that the sun was coming. We 
aroused the Professor, and walking out upon the ledges 
whence an unimpeded view of the east could be had, it was 
our lot to behold the finest sunrise I have ever seen, al- 
though I have witnessed several from such vantage points. 
There were just the right elements of mist and cloud, and 
for a long time we were treated to a gorgeous display of 
changing color. 
When the sun was fairly up we set about the prepara- 
tion of breakfast. Our bill of fare included coffee, eggs, 
fried potatoes, sandwiches, and one or two minor items. 
We packed them all away with immense gusto. Such a 
meal naturally produced a disinclination to immediate ac- 
tion, and for the better part of an hour we lolled about, 
taking parting glimpses of the view and lazily making 
ready our packs for the descent. The success of the 
Lawyer's army roll as a method of carrying blankets had 
converted both the Professor and myself, and we adopted 
it now with great subsequent relief to our bruised shoul- 
ders. At about 8 o'clock all was ready. On the ascent 
we had purposely followed a roundabout course in order 
to avoid the steeper pitches of the mountain. For this 
there was now no occasion, and we determined to strike 
almost directly down the side of the mountain toward our 
starting point at Tucker's. 
So down we scrambled, slipping and falling 
through the dense bushes and over the mossy 
boulders. Soon, by means of the half-obliterated 
"blazes" on the trees, we discovered the semblance of an 
ancient trail. The marks led iri the desired direction, and 
we followed them for some time toward a large clearing 
of which we could catch occasional glimpses far belo\v! 
From this clearing we knew that we should find a lumber 
road leading down the mountain. But it required still 
three-quarters of an hour's hard work before we reached 
the clearing. Close to its upper edge, where we emerged, 
we found a delicious spring in which we fairly wallowed 
with delight, for we had tasted no fresh water since the 
preceding afternoon. We needed all the refreshment it 
afforded, however, for immediately after resuming our 
march we found ourselves in an 'inextricable tangle of 
dead limbs, useless logs, blackberry bushes, and in fact all 
the refuse of a deserted lumbering camp, which is the 
rnost untidy spot on earth. . "it only needs the zip of 
Mauser.s," said the Professor, up to his neck in brush, "to 
make us fancy ourselves in sorhe Cuban chaparral" ; and 
he spoke the truth. Cuban jungles, though differing in 
---vegetation, can scarcely be more impenetrable. And 
there is likewise no hotter place than a clearing in the 
woods, where the dead brush is thick and the sun pours 
down on one's defenseless head, while the taller trees 
about shut off any possible breeze. We struggled through 
at last and halted in the shade of one of the lumbermen's 
hutj tu cool oil a bii. VVc were n iw at the luwer edge 
of the clearing, and the tetl of our trarnp Was performed 
by easy stages down the cool forest road to rucker's, 
where we arrived at about 10 o'clock. 
Of our homewJird drive little need be said. The hilU 
were gcncratly in our favor, and our steady course was 
broken only by a hah for lunch beside a clear trout 
stream. At about 3 o'clock in the afternoon we drove up 
to the door of our summer home, with the conviction 
that our trip had been a complete success. In Belvidere 
we had made a friend worth |k'/iowing, and we promised 
ourselves that another season should see us again his 
guests, should the fates allow. A. L. W. 
Just About a Boy.— XV. 
The day came when the snows were melted and the 
river ran bank full with a murky flood. The south wind 
was full of the earthy smell of spring, and robins and 
bluebirds flitted up out of the sunny lands below the 
southern horizon. The:re is something about the .awaken- 
ing of a new summer that makes men restless, so I was 
not surprised when the boy burst into the workshop like 
a runaway cyclone and said, "Say, geel" 
"What is the matter, now?" I asked 
"Less git ready 'n' go t' tli' mountains. I'm juss dyin' 
to git out o' this old flat country. Gee! I feel 's if I c'd 
climb forty mile to-day. Whut's th' use o' us foolin' 
away our time here — less git th' outfit together 'n' git a 
hike on us!" 
"Now, see here, son," I answered, "you just use a lit- 
tle horse sense and see where you would come out if 
you started to-day. You know grass won't be big 
enough for horses to feed for a month yet, and up there 
your horses have got to have grass, because you cannot 
carry feed all over a thousand miles of wilderness for 
them. Savvy?" 
"i'ep. Less git things ready, anyhow, 'n start juss 's 
soon 's ever we can. You tinker up th' wagon 'n' I'll 
git th' campin' part o' th' outfit in shape, nen we'll 
have the whole thing ready sost t' leave 'bout th' first o' 
May — whut d' yeh say?" 
"Well, that will do. Suppose we use the shop for a 
headquarters and bring all the outfit here. You can come 
here and we can talk things over and decide on any point 
that may happen to be in doubt, so that when we start 
we won't have to come back for anything," 
"That's a go, then. I'll go 'n' overhaul all th* stuff I 
got 'n' see what we want to take, 'n' what we don't. I'll 
fetch 'em in as I come. Goodby; I'm goin'." 
Then came thirty days of suppressed excitement and 
anticipation for the boy, and at last it was over. One 
bright May morning we drove down through the town, 
oul across the iron bridge that spanned the river, and 
sV)wly up the long slope of hillside where the roa<l 
climbed to the high "divide." 
The boy looked back from the hilltop and waved his 
hand in a good-by to the little river where he had lived so 
many summers and was now leaving to explore other 
and unknown lands. 
Our outfit was a light spring wagon with a canvas 
cover and a first class pair of tough little bronchos that 
would pull, buck, kick or run off with equal vehemence. 
Packed away in the wagon were all the things that make 
a camper's heart glad, but there was a conspicuous ab- 
sence of the many useless and cumbersome things that 
are made for and used by the would-be camper who 
expects cream in his coffee in the wilderness and kicks 
if he has to use a saddle for a pillow. 
There Avasn't much weight in the wagon, but the boy 
and I made a good many hundred miles with what we did 
have. This voyaging across the grass land was a joy- 
ful experience for both, and the boy found so many new 
things to ask about and want information on that it 
kept me busy answering him. 
Up along the divide we journeyed until it was time 
to head northwest, and then we wound down among the 
cut clay canons and entered the great wide, valley of the 
Platte. 
"Say," said the boy, as he saw this strange riveJr.,. 
"this is a funny kind o' river, ain't it? I've heard about 
it lots, but I never saw it b'fore, 'n' I reckon I don't think 
much of it, now't I have seen it. What's th' use o' a 
river t' ain't got any ^rees 'long it 'n' nuthin' but sand 
bars with a little water 'round 'em fr'm one bank t' th' 
other? Hump! Why, a blamed ole catfish 'd have more 
sense 'n to live 'n such a place, seems t' me!" 
"That's where you don't know. Now, let me tell you 
something about these sand rivers, because you may 
want to know before we get back. There are plenty of 
fish in all of them, but you must understand that they 
stay in the deeper places, where a current swings around 
a bend and imdermines the bank, for instance, or where 
a log happens to make a 'bore' in the sand by swinging 
the current into one place and making it wash the sand 
away. Now, when you know this, you will not have 
much trouble in catching a mess of catfish in the Platte 
or either of the Loup rivers, if you use frogs, minnows 
or grasshoppers for bait, depending on the season of the 
year, you know." ' ■ ' 
"I'm goin' to try 'em first chance I get, 'f that's th' 
case. I'd like to fool some of 'em just fer fun," he an- 
swered. 
A few days afterward, when we crossed the South 
Loup, the boy made his promise good, and we feasted 
on catfish to our hearts' content. 
One evening, as the sun went down, it threw a long, 
low line of hills into blue relief in the distance, and the 
boy noticed it, 
"What hills are them, 'way off yonder— hain't the 
mountains,, are they?" he asked. 
"No; those are the sand-hills, and before noon to- 
morrow we will be driving over a strange country' — one 
that is always moving toward the southeast." 
"Ah, g'won! What yeh givin' us?" said the boy. 
"It is a fact, nevertheless. You see that range of hills 
is nothing more or less than great heaps of sand, partly 
grassed over and so dry that the wind always blows the 
northwest side over the top of the hill and leaves it to 
sift down on the southeast. You see the edge 'of the 
desert country up there, and by noon to-morrow yo\i will 
have seen the hills move and will know how it is dpne 
