THE HIGH MOUNTAINS 109 
sumes the nature of an adventure. The one draw- 
back to walking is the crossing of the waters, for the 
mountains are so closely veined with streams that 
you cannot go a mile without having to cross at least 
one, generally on a "footway" the sight of which fills 
the novice with dismay. They are often very pictur- 
esque, these foot-logs, but one is apt to lose sight of 
that in the imminence of having to walk over one. 
Some of the bridges are good, sound tree- trunks lev- 
eled on the upper side and supplied with a hand-rail, 
but this is luxury. His wildest currents the moun- 
taineer prefers to span with the smallest pole that 
can bear his weight, and his wide rivers he crosses on 
a "bench." 
You will be likely to remember your first bench. 
Imagine long-legged saw-horses driven into the bed 
of the river the length of a long plank apart — two 
saw-horses placed tandem at each junction. Now 
imagine a plank reaching from the river-bank to the 
first saw-horse, and supported by it some four feet 
above the water. A short gap is succeeded by another 
plank extending between the second and third saw- 
horse and so on until the river is crossed. Such is 
the bench. A good recipe for crossing your first 
bench is to imagine that somebody is looking as you 
step up on It. This helps you to assume an easy 
attitude, as though you were there for the scenery. 
Then edge along a step, sideways, and again stop and 
thoughtfully regard the beauties of nature; thus, edg- 
ing along and stopping every step or two for a long 
and reassuring look at the distant tree-tops, you will 
