CLIMBING BEAR MOUNTAIN IN THE SNOW. 249 
The body of sweet sound made in a conversa¬ 
tional way by these gentle, cheerful little birds, s 
was amazing. 
We reached the summit at about noon, and 
were fully repaid for the three hours’ climb. 
During the ascent, charming views of Passacon- 
away, Tripyramid, Kancamagus, and the daz- 
zlingly white fields of the intervale had greeted 
us whenever we stopped to rest. Now were 
added Chocorua, Moat, Pequawket, Mount 
Washington and his supporting mountains, the 
Franconia group, Carrigain, and the Bartlett 
valley. Moat and Chocorua are much alike 
from this point of view. They are both com¬ 
paratively treeless mountains and were conse¬ 
quently snowy white. Their outlines suggest 
combing breakers. Chocorua, being under the 
low-hanging sun, was reflecting light from 
every crusted snowbank and ice-wrapped 
boulder. It was like a mountain of cut glass. 
Mount Washington was unobscured, and in the 
noonday sun as colorless as summer clouds. 
This snowy whiteness of its upper mass wound 
in streams down its sides, as soft frosting pours 
in grooves down the sides of a birthday cake. 
Between these streams of whiteness ran upward 
long fingers of dark forest. Most of the other 
mountains in sight were wooded to their sum¬ 
mits, and so contrasted sharply in their sombre 
colorings with their snowy rivals. 
