26 AT TEE NORTH OF BEARCAMP WATER . 
the bird which I next heard singing was even 
more interesting. It was a male blackpoll 
warbler, perched upon the highest plume of a 
spruce and pouring out his unmusical ze-ze-ze~ 
ze-ze with all a lover’s earnestness. He clearly 
considered two thousand feet rise on Chocorua 
equivalent to several hundred miles’ flight 
towards Labrador. In this the flowers sus¬ 
tained him, for growing near by was the charm¬ 
ing Armaria groenlandica , with its cluster of 
delicate white flowers springing from the sand, 
and the Potentilla tridentata blooming freely. 
Apparently dissenting from this boreal majority 
was a bunch of goldenrod in full bloom. It 
was a mountain species which comes into flower 
a fortnight or more earlier than its lowland rel¬ 
atives. 
My homeward path followed the crest of the 
great eastern ridge of Chocorua as it descends 
towards the basin of Chocorua ponds. The 
ridge is narrow and mainly open, save for a few 
stunted spruces. In every direction far-reach¬ 
ing and beautiful views charmed me and 
tempted me to linger. From the last of the 
open ledges, the top of what is called Bald 
Mountain, I saw the sun set just behind the 
peak. Then with quickened pace I entered the 
forest and ran through the gathering gloom 
down the rough path to the pastures a mile be¬ 
low. 
