A NIGHT ALONE ON CHOCORUA . 
63 
miles the only bird I heard was a red-eyed 
vireo, and the only one I saw was a grouse 
which flew from the path. In the road below 
and along the trail up the mountain there were 
dozens of young toads. They were about the 
size of the Indian’s head on a cent. I won¬ 
dered how far up the trail I should find them, 
so I watched closely as the path grew steeper 
and steeper. The last one seen was about six¬ 
teen hundred feet above the sea, and one thou¬ 
sand feet above the Hammond clearing where I 
first noticed them. There is no still water 
within a mile of the point where I found the 
last one. In view of such facts, it is not diffi¬ 
cult to account for the popular belief that young 
toads fall from the clouds with rain. 
Clearing the forest, and reaching the open 
ledges on the crest of the great southeastern 
ridge of Chocorua, along which the Hammond 
path runs towards the peak, I saw that a storm 
was gathering in the west. Piles of thunder- 
heads were rolling up beyond Whiteface and 
the Sandwich Dome, and tending northward. 
Chocorua might be too far east to be included 
in the drenching which was in store. It was 
not too far away to lose the cool wind which 
suddenly changed my gasping heat into a shiver. 
With a quicker pace I pushed towards the foot 
of the peak. 
