OLD SHAG. 
153 
ledge. The brown water stood in pools amid 
the sphagnum beds and between the stems of 
trees. Several paths led downward between 
the low spruces to these pools, but we shunned 
them. Human feet had not trodden them, un¬ 
less, indeed, the bear hunter had passed that way 
and set his traps directly across them. In one 
place I saw where a bear had recently walked 
across the sphagnum, leaving the imprint of 
his huge foot clearly stamped upon the moss. 
The view from the dome of Paugus was au¬ 
tumnal in tone. Great masses of cold clouds 
were sweeping across the blue sky, urged for¬ 
ward by a blustering northwest wind. Wher¬ 
ever the spruce growth upon the mountains was 
interrupted by deciduous trees, delicate shades 
of red, yellow, or russet lay in patches between 
the sombre tones of the evergreens. In spots 
brilliant scarlet maples stood out boldly, but as 
a rule the new colors were not pronounced but 
merely suggestive of the gorgeous transforma¬ 
tion soon to be perfected. In the hollows, es¬ 
pecially those in which “harricanes” had been 
overgrown by mountain ash, sumac, and similar 
perishable wood, the autumnal tints were more 
prevalent and stronger. The only flowers upon 
the mountain-top were a few small asters with 
highly scented leaves, and a goldenrod (macro- 
phylld) with large blossoms and coarse leaves. 
