FOLLOWING A LOST TRAIL. 
55 
stumps which bore the axe mark instead of that 
of the storm. We surmised that we had struck 
a belt which had been “lumbered” before the 
hurricane had completed its destruction. Fight¬ 
ing on yard by yard, we crossed the top of the 
ridge and gained its northern edge. There the 
signs of timber cutting were plainer, and pres¬ 
ently I noticed a curious ribbon of saplings 
reaching down the slope in front of us. The 
young trees in it were higher than the wreck on 
each side of it, yet the ribbon was the road and 
the wreck was all that remained of the forest 
through which the road had been cut long years 
ago. The broken thread of the lost trail had 
been found. Behind us a blazed path reached 
into the Bearcamp valley; before us the lumber 
road wound downward a short two miles to the 
Swift River road, now plainly visible over the 
sloping tree-tops. 
We followed the lumber road down about a 
mile, searching for a hut which Berry remem¬ 
bered to have seen. As we descended, the 
“harricane” was left behind, and our ribbon of 
saplings led into the forest, its massed stems 
contrasting oddly with the wide-spaced trunks 
of the primeval growth. Coming to the hut, 
which Berry said had been built twenty years 
before, we found it remarkably well preserved. 
Straw still remained in the lumbermen’s bunks, 
