206 AT THE NORTH OF BEARCAMF WATER. 
reaches far down into the eastern hollow of 
Chocorua, I rested and drew strength from the 
perfect peace of my surroundings. 
The only sounds which I could hear, and 
they were only occasional, were produced by 
the fall of masses of snow from spruce limbs, 
and the sighing of the breeze in the tree-tops 
far below me in the ravine. When the wind 
ceased, the hush was wonderful. In so vast a 
space it seemed as though some voice of nature 
must make itself heard; but above, below, 
northward towards Canada, eastward towards 
the ocean, southward, where Winnepesaukee’s 
waters were too dazzling to watch, and west¬ 
ward, among the snowy ravines of clustered 
mountains, all was absolute repose and silence. 
Not a bird or an insect was to be seen, and the 
stiff spruces were as motionless as the rock from 
which they sprang. The peak was the most 
forceful element in the landscape. It seemed 
the embodiment of cold, silent strength. Nine 
tenths of its surface were pure white snow, one 
tenth black rock, whose steep faces or sharp 
angles refused to hold the snow. Rising fifteen 
hundred feet above the ledges on which 1 sat, 
yet being not more than half a mile from me, 
its massive presence was not only impressive 
but oppressive. I felt as though it might fall 
and crush me to powder. 
