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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1464309 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #65539 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/65539) diff --git a/old/65539-0.txt b/old/65539-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 738e575..0000000 --- a/old/65539-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8469 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Boy Scouts in the White Mountains, by -Walter Prichard Eaton - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Boy Scouts in the White Mountains - The Story of a Long Hike - -Author: Walter Prichard Eaton - -Illustrator: Frank T. Merrill - -Release Date: June 7, 2021 [eBook #65539] - -Language: English - -Produced by: WebRover, Mike Stember, David K. Park and the Online - Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This - file was produced from images generously made available by - The Internet Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BOY SCOUTS IN THE WHITE -MOUNTAINS *** - - - - - -_BOOKS BY_ - -=Walter P. Eaton= - - - THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE. A story of how the Chipmunk Patrol was - started, what they did and how they did it. - - BOY SCOUTS IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. A story of Boy Scouting in the Dismal - Swamp. - - BOY SCOUTS IN THE WHITE MOUNTAINS. A story of a hike over the - Franconia and Presidential Ranges. - - BOY SCOUTS OF THE WILDCAT PATROL. A story of Boy Scouting. - - PEANUT--CUB REPORTER. A Boy Scout’s life and adventures on a newspaper. - - BOY SCOUTS IN GLACIER PARK. The adventures of two young Easterners in - the heart of the High Rockies. - - BOY SCOUTS AT CRATER LAKE. A Story of the High Cascades. - - BOY SCOUTS ON KATAHDIN. A story of the Maine Woods. - - HAWKEYE’S ROOMMATE. A story of the very life of a truly American prep - school--how the boys studied, played and found lasting friendships and - learned the lessons of life. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - - Boy Scouts in the White Mountains - - _THE STORY OF A LONG HIKE_ - - By WALTER PRICHARD EATON - - _ILLUSTRATED BY_ - - FRANK T. MERRILL - -[Illustration: Docendo discimus] - - W. A. WILDE COMPANY - - BOSTON CHICAGO - - - - - _Copyrighted, 1914_ - - By W. A. Wilde Company - - _All rights reserved_ - - BOY SCOUTS IN THE WHITE MOUNTAINS - - - - -NOTE - - The author and publishers desire to express their appreciation of the - courtesy extended by Small Maynard & Co. for the use of the black and - white plates used in this volume, which are taken from their “White - Mountain Trails” and also to “The Northward-Ho” for the use of the - reproduction of the Presidential Range used on the cover. - - - - - _To - Sydney Bruce Snow_ - - _In memory of a cheerful fire - and a doleful - broken egg - beside the - Lakes of the Clouds_ - - - - -Contents - - - I. PEANUT CALLS TO ARMS 13 - II. GETTING READY FOR THE HIKE 23 - III. FOURTH OF JULY ON KINSMAN 34 - IV. MOOSILAUKE 60 - V. LOST RIVER AND THE LADIES 82 - VI. A STRANGE ADVENTURE IN THE NIGHT 105 - VII. OVER THE LAFAYETTE RIDGE, WITH A DINNER PARTY AT THE END 123 - VIII. ON THE FOREHEAD OF THE OLD MAN OF THE MOUNTAIN 154 - IX. THE CRAWFORD NOTCH 163 - X. A FIGHT WITH THE STORM ON THE CRAWFORD BRIDLE PATH 177 - XI. TO THE SUMMIT, SAFE AT LAST 194 - XII. DOWN TUCKERMAN’S RAVINE 223 - XIII. UP THE HUNTINGTON HEAD WALL 243 - XIV. THE GIANT’S BEDCLOTHES 257 - XV. WITH ROB, ART AND PEANUT INTO THE GREAT GULF 266 - XVI. FIRST AID IN THE CLOUDS! 272 - XVII. PEANUT LEARNS WHERE THE SIX HUSBANDS’ TRAIL GOT ITS NAME 282 - XVIII. THROUGH KING’S RAVINE AND HOME AGAIN 290 - - - - -Boy Scouts in the White Mountains - - - - -CHAPTER I - -PEANUT CALLS TO ARMS - - -Nobody who had seen Art Bruce in a scout suit would ever have -recognized him in his present costume. He had on black silk -knee-breeches. On his low shoes were sewed two enormous buckles, cut -out of pasteboard, with tinfoil from a paper of sweet chocolate pasted -over them to make them look like silver. Instead of a shirt, he wore -a woman’s white waist, with a lot of lace in front, which stood out, -stiff with starch. His jacket was of black velvet. Instead of a collar, -he wore a black handkerchief wrapped around like an old-fashioned -neck-cloth, the kind you see in pictures of George Washington’s time. -On his head was a wig, powered white, with a queue hanging down behind. -As he came out of the boys’ dressing room into the school auditorium -Peanut Morrison emitted a wild whoop. - -“Gee, look at Art!” he cried. “He thinks he’s George Washington going -to deliver his last message to Congress!” - -Everybody looked at Art, and Art turned red. “Shut up,” he said. “You -wait till _you’re_ all dolled up, and see what _you_ look like!” - -“Yes, and you’d better be getting dressed right away,” said one of the -teachers to Peanut, who scampered off laughing. - -Art stood about, very uncomfortable, watching the other boys and girls -come from the dressing rooms, in their costumes. It was the dress -rehearsal for a Colonial pageant the Southmead High School was going -to present. They were going to sing a lot of old-time songs, and dance -old-time dances (the girls doing most of the dancing). The stage was -supposed to represent a Colonial parlor. Several people had loaned -the school old mahogany furniture, the light was to come largely from -candles, and finally, while the party was supposed to be in full blast, -a messenger was going to dash in, breathless, announce the Battle of -Lexington, and call the men-folks of Southmead to arms. Then the men -would run for their guns, say good-bye to the women, and march off. Art -couldn’t see why they should march off in all their best clothes, and -had said so to the teacher who got up the play, but she had pointed out -that they couldn’t afford to hire two costumes for all the boys, so -they’d just have to pretend they went home for their other clothes. -Art was not yet satisfied, however. - -The girls were in funny old costumes with wide skirts and powdered -hair. They were all having a much better time than Art was. - -“Gee, they _like_ to dress up,” thought Art, as he watched Lucy Parker -practicing a courtesy before her own reflection in a glass door, and -patting her hair. - -Peanut didn’t have to dress up in these elaborate clothes. He was the -messenger who rushed in to announce the call to arms. He was also his -own horse. Putting a board across two chairs just behind the door -leading to the stage, he took a couple of drumsticks and imitated a -galloping horse, beginning softly, as if the horse was far away, and -drumming louder and louder till the horse was supposed to reach the -door. Then he cried “Whoa!”, dropped the drumsticks, and dashed out -upon the stage. Peanut had been rehearsing his part at home, and the -imitation of the galloping horse was really very good. - -As soon as everybody was dressed, the rehearsal began, with the music -teacher at the piano, and the other teachers running about getting the -actors into place. Lucy Parker was supposed to be giving the party -in her house, and the other characters came on one by one, or in -couples, while Lucy courtesied to each of them. The girls courtesied -back, while the men were supposed to make low bows. There weren’t -many lines to speak, but Dennie O’Brien was supposed to be a visiting -French count, with very gallant manners, and he had to say “Bon soir, -Mademoiselle Parker” (Lucy’s ancestors had lived in Southmead during -the Revolution, so she kept her own name in the play), and then he had -to lift her hand and kiss it. Dennie had never been able to do this at -any of the rehearsals yet without giggling, and setting everybody else -to giggling. But this time the teacher in charge spoke severely. - -“Now, Dennis,” she said, “this is a dress rehearsal. You go through -your part right!” - -“Yes’m,” Dennie answered, feeling of the little black goatee stuck on -his chin to see if it was on firm, and trying to keep his face straight. - -When his turn came to enter, he got off his “Bon soir, Mademoiselle -Parker” all right, and bowed over her hand without a snicker. But, just -as he kissed her fingers, his goatee came off and fell to the floor. -Everybody laughed, except Lucy. She was mad at him, because she wanted -the play to be a great success, and before he could lift his face, she -brought her hand up quickly and slapped his cheek a good, sounding -whack. - -Dennie jumped back, surprised. Then he picked up his goatee, while Lucy -stamped her foot. “You great clumsy--_boy_!” she exclaimed. - -“Serves you right, Dennis,” said the teacher. - -“Well, I can’t help it if it won’t stick,” Dennie answered. “Gee, I’ll -_bite_ your old hand next time!” he muttered to Lucy. - -She ignored him, and the rehearsal proceeded. Art entered next, with -Mary Pearson on his arm. Mary dropped a courtesy, and Art bowed. - -The teacher clapped her hands for the rehearsal to stop. “Oh, Arthur,” -she said, “don’t bow as if you had a ramrod down your back!” - -“Well, I feel’s if I had,” said Art. - -“But don’t act so!” the teacher laughed. “Now, try it again.” - -Art tried once more to put his hand on his breast, and bow gracefully, -but he certainly felt like a fool in these clothes, and made a poor -success of it. - -“Boys are _all_ clumsy,” he heard Lucy whisper to one of the other -girls. - -After the guests had all arrived, they sang several old-time songs, and -then four boys and four girls danced the minuet. Art didn’t have to -take part in this. He was supposed to sit and chat in the background, -which was easy. After the minuet, however, everybody had to get up and -dance a Virginia Reel. While they were in the middle of the dance, -Peanut’s galloping horse was heard; the dance stopped, the cry of -“Whoa!” was shouted at the door, and Peanut, in clothes made dusty -by sprinkling flour on them, dashed into the room, breathless, and -panted, “War has begun! We have fought the British at Lexington and -Concord! Every man to arms! The enemy must be driven out of Boston!” - -There was nothing stiff about Peanut, and nobody laughed when he came -on covered with flour. He was really panting. He gasped out his first -sentence, and ended with a thrilling shout. Then he dashed forth again, -and his horse was heard galloping rapidly away. - -“Peanut has the artistic temperament,” one of the teachers whispered to -another, who nodded. - -No sooner had Peanut gone than the men on the stage piled after -him, and while the women huddled whispering in excited groups, they -grabbed guns and came back on the stage, when there were good-byes -and pretended tears, and Lou Merritt, dressed up like a Revolutionary -minister, gave the departing soldiers his blessing. - -“Just the same, it’s silly,” Art cried, as the rehearsal was over. -“Nobody ever marched off to war in silk pants and pumps. Why can’t we -put on our own old clothes, with high boots, when we go for the guns? -Even if we don’t have Continental uniforms, the old clothes will look -more sensible than these things.” - -“Sure!” cried Peanut, to the teacher. “Look here, Miss Eldridge, -here’s a picture of the Concord statue of the Minute Man. Just long -pants stuck into his boots. Let ’em just do that, and sling blanket -rolls over their shoulders, like Scouts. Then they’ll look like -business.” - -“I guess you are right, boys,” she said. “Well, try it again. Who lives -nearest? You, Joe, and you, Bert. Run and borrow a few old blankets -from your mothers.” - -Ten minutes later Peanut once more galloped up to interrupt the -Virginia Reel, the men rushed out for their guns, and pulled on their -own trousers, slung blanket rolls over their shoulders, discarded -their powdered wigs, and came back looking much more like minute men -going to war. They formed a strong contrast now to the girls, in their -fine clothes. Art felt easy at last, with a blanket roll covering his -frilled shirt and a gun in his hand. He gave commands to his company -in a firm voice, no longer halting and awkward. He even had a sudden -inspiration, which undoubtedly improved the play, though that wasn’t -why he carried it out. - -Lucy Parker, she who had been so contemptuous of boys, was acting for -all she was worth in this scene. Prattie was supposed to be her lover, -and she was clinging to him with one hand while bidding him good-bye, -and mopping her eyes with the other. Art, as captain of the minute -men, suddenly strode over to her, grabbed Prattie, dragged him away, -and put him into line with the other soldiers. Lucy looked indignant, -and forgot to wipe her eyes. Art glanced at her triumphantly, and Miss -Eldridge cried, “Do that on the night of the play, Arthur! That’s -fine--only don’t glare at Lucy.” - -This inspiration rather restored Art’s spirits. He had got square with -Lucy Parker, anyhow! He and Peanut dressed as quickly as they could, -and left the school building, walking home up the village street, where -sleigh-bells were jingling. Art grew glum again. - -“Hang the old rehearsals!” said he. “It’s too late to go skating.” - -“I like ’em,” Peanut replied. “It’s lots o’ fun.” - -“You’re an actor, I guess,” said Art. “Gee, you come puffing in just as -if you were really out of breath!” - -“I _am_,” said Peanut. “I get to thinking about galloping up on the -horse so hard while I’m drumming that I really get excited. Why, how -can you help it?” - -“Guess _you_ can’t,” Art answered. “But I can. I’m not built that way. -Play acting doesn’t seem real to me, it seems sort of--sort of girls’ -stuff.” - -“Thank you,” said Peanut. - -“Oh, I don’t mean you, of course,” Art laughed. “But dancing, and all -that--golly, I feel as if I was wasting time. Wish vacation was here, -so we could get away somewhere into the wilds again.” - -“Sure, so do I,” answered Peanut, “but me for having all the fun I can -while I’m in civilization. Where are we going to hike this summer, by -the way?” - -“I’ve been thinking about that,” said Art. “I was thinking about it in -study period--that’s why I flunked my history recitation. Got a good -idea, too.” - -“Out with it,” said Peanut. - -“The White Mountains,” said Art. “It came to me while I was looking at -that picture of the Alps which hangs on the side wall. These mountains -about Southmead, they’re not really mountains--only hills. But we’ve -had a lot of fun climbing ’em. Think what fun it would be to climb -_real_ mountains. We can’t get to the Alps or the Rockies, but Mr. -Rogers told me once it wouldn’t cost any more to hike over the White -Mountains than it cost us to go to the Dismal Swamp.” - -“Me for them,” cried Peanut. “That means saving twenty-five dollars -between now and July. Wow! I’ll have to do some hustling!” - -“You’ll have to cut out some candy,” laughed Art. - -“I’ve not bought any candy since--since yesterday,” the other replied. -“Whom’ll we take with us on this hike?” - -“Anybody that will go,” said Art. “Guess I’d better call a scout -meeting right away, and put it up to the fellers.” - -“Sure, to-night,” cried Peanut. “I’m going home now to see if the old -hen’s laid an egg to sell!” - -“You’ll need a lot of eggs to save twenty-five dollars,” said Art. - -“Not so many, with eggs at fifty-five cents a dozen,” Peanut replied. -Then he turned in at his gate, and began to skip sideways up the path, -hitting the soles of his shoes together in such a way that he exactly -imitated the galloping of a horse. “Whoa!” he cried at the door, and as -he entered the house, Art could hear him shouting at his mother, “To -arms! The war has begun. We have fought the British at Lexington and -Concord!” - -Then Art grinned as he heard Mrs. Morrison reply, “Have you? Well, now -you split some kindlings.” - - - - -CHAPTER II - -GETTING READY FOR THE HIKE - - -For the next few months several of the Scouts saved up money for the -White Mountain hike. Art, as patrol leader, and as originator of the -idea, felt that it was up to him to do all in his power to encourage -the plan, so he borrowed Rob Everts’ radiopticon (Rob himself was away -at college now), and secured from Mr. Rogers, the Scout Master, who had -been to the White Mountains many times, a bunch of picture post-cards -and photographs, showing all kinds of views from that region--the -Old Man of the Mountain, the clouds seen from the top of Mount -Washington, the Great Gulf between Washington and the northern peaks, -the snow arch in Tuckerman’s Ravine, and so on. Mr. Rogers himself -came to the meeting and explained the pictures, describing the places -enthusiastically. Some of his own photographs were taken at very steep -places on the trails, and here some of the boys gasped. One picture in -particular showed Mr. Rogers himself climbing a ledge, almost as steep -as the side of a house, with a pack on his back and a blanket roll over -his shoulder. - -“Gee, do you have to carry all that weight up those places?” demanded -Prattie. - -“You do if you want to eat and keep warm when you get to the top,” Mr. -Rogers laughed. - -“Me for little old Southmead,” Prattie replied. - -“Yes, you stay right here, and dance the minuet with Lucy Parker,” said -Art scornfully. “You big, lazy tub!” - -Prattie bristled up, but the other Scouts laughed him down. However, -there were several more who seemed, as time went on, to feel rather -as Prattie did toward the White Mountain hike. Some of them got -discouraged at the task of saving up so much money. Besides, it was -easier, when spring came, to go out and play baseball than it was to -work for a few pennies, which had to be put in a bank and saved for -summer--a long way off. Others didn’t see the trip in the light Art and -Peanut saw it. It seemed too hard work to them. - -“They make me tired,” Art declared one spring afternoon. “They haven’t -any gumption.” - -“Boys are something like men, I guess,” Peanut answered sagely. “Some -men get out and do things, an’ get rich or go to Congress, while -others don’t. Look right here in Southmead. There’s Tom Perkins, he’s -got everything you want in his store, from sponges to snow-shoes, and -he’s rich. Bill Green, who might do just as well as he does, don’t -care whether he sells you anything or not; he’s too lazy to stock up -with fresh goods all the while, and he’s poor and don’t amount to -much. I guess when Tom Perkins was our age he’d have gone to the White -Mountains with us, and Bill Green wouldn’t.” - -“Probably,” said Art, “but there are too many Bill Greens in the world!” - -“Right-o,” said Peanut. “I’ll tell you something else, Art. Some of -the fellers’ folks won’t let ’em go. I was talking with Dennie’s old -man the other day. Gee, he’s got money enough! He could _give_ Dennie -twenty-five dollars and never know it. He said, ‘What’s the matter with -you boys? Ain’t Southmead good enough for you, that you want to go -hikin’ off a thousand miles?’ He got my goat, and I just came back at -him!” - -“What did you say?” asked Art. - -Peanut chuckled. “I wasn’t exactly polite,” he answered. “‘Mr. -O’Brien,’ said I, ‘if you’d been off more, you’d know that one of the -best ways to get an education is to travel. Southmead’s only a little -corner of a big world.’ ‘Well, it’s big enough for me, and for Dennis,’ -he says, and I answered, ‘It’s too big for you. You’re so small you’d -rattle ’round in a pea-pod.’” - -“And then what happened?” asked Art. - -“Then I ran,” Peanut laughed. “Gee, he was mad! Old tightwad! Dennie -wants to go, awful bad.” - -As vacation time drew near in June, the number of Scouts who were going -to be able to make the trip had boiled down to four--Art and Peanut, of -course, with Frank Nichols and Lou Merritt. Those readers who have also -read “The Boy Scouts of Berkshire” will recall that Lou Merritt was the -boy who had started in as a sneak and a liar. But that time was long -since past. He had lived with Miss Swain now for several years; he took -care of her garden for her, and made some money for himself besides, -raising lettuce, radishes, cauliflowers and other vegetables. He was in -the high school, and was going from there to the Amherst Agricultural -College. Lou was now one of the most respected boys in town, and Miss -Swain was so fond of him that she had practically ordered him to go on -the hike, for he had worked hard in the garden all the spring, besides -studying evenings. She was going to hire a gardener while he was away, -but the money for the trip he had earned himself. In addition to these -four there was, of course, Mr. Rogers, the Scout Master, and Rob -Everts, who would be back from college in a week or two now, and was -going on the hike for a vacation, before he started in summer work in -his father’s bank. That made a party of six, which Mr. Rogers declared -was, after all, enough. - -[Illustration: The Appalachian Mountain Club camp in Tuckerman’s Ravine] - -“Just a good, chummy number,” he said. “The Appalachian camps will -hold us without overcrowding, and we won’t always be worrying about -stragglers getting lost.” - -“What are the Appalachian camps?” asked Art. - -“The Appalachian Club is a club of men, with headquarters in Boston,” -Mr. Rogers answered, “and they do more than anybody else to make hiking -in the White Mountains possible. They have built dozens and dozens of -trails, which they keep cleaned out and marked clearly, and at several -strategic points they have built shelters where you can camp over night -or get in out of the storm. They have a stone hut on the col between -Mounts Madison and Adams, a shelter in the Great Gulf, another in -Tuckerman’s Ravine, and so on. I’ve been mighty glad to get to some of -these shelters, I can tell you.” - -“Gee, those names--Great Gulf--Tuckerman’s Ravine--make you want to get -to ’em in a hurry!” cried Peanut. “Let’s plan an equipment right off.” - -“That is pretty important,” said Mr. Rogers. “We want to go as light as -we can, and yet we’ve got to keep warm. I’ve been in a snow-storm on -Mount Washington in the middle of August.” - -“Whew!” said Peanut. - -So the four Scouts began planning, at their shoes, where plans for -every hike ought to begin. As Mr. Rogers put it, “a soldier is no -better than his feet.” Each boy got out his stoutest boots, made sure -that the linings were sound so there would be no rough places to chafe -the feet, and took them to the cobbler’s. If the soles had worn thin, -the cobbler resoled them, and in all of them he put hobnails, so they -would grip the steep rocks without slipping. - -None of the Southmead Scouts wore the kind of scout uniform which has -short knee pants and socks instead of stockings. As most of their hikes -were through woods, this uniform would have been highly unpractical, -resulting in scratched legs. Besides, all the larger Scouts, like Art -and Peanut, said it was too much like the clothes rich little children -wear! Instead, the Southmead troop generally wore khaki trousers and -leggings. - -“I think leggings are going to be too hot for this trip,” Mr. Rogers -said. “We’ll have very little brush work to do. Suppose we cut out the -leggings in favor of long khaki trousers. We’ll each want an extra -pair of heavy socks, and you, Lou, bring along a needle and plenty of -darning cotton, to repair holes. Then we’ll want an extra shirt and set -of underclothes apiece, so we can change in camp after a sweaty climb. -Also, we’ll all want sweaters and a blanket.” - -“How about food?” asked Art. - -“And cooking kits?” asked Peanut. - -“And my camera?” said Frank. - -“One camera only!” laughed Mr. Rogers. “You can settle whose that’ll be -between you. Most of our food we’ll get as we go along. But it would be -just as well if we got a few things before we start, such as salt and -a few soup sticks and some dehydrated vegetables, such as spinach, and -maybe some army emergency rations.” - -“Brr,” said Peanut. “Art and I tried them once. Taste like--well, I’m -too polite to tell you.” - -“Nevertheless, you can put a small can in your pocket and go off for a -day without toting a whole kitchen along,” Mr. Rogers answered, “and -that’s a help when you are climbing.” - -“All right,” said Peanut, “but I’d rather chew raisins.” - -“He’ll eat it just the same, when he gets hungry,” put in Art. “Now, -about kits. Can’t we divide up? We oughtn’t to need much stuff for only -six.” - -“I’ve got two kettles, that nest, one inside the other,” said Peanut, -“and a small frying-pan.” - -“I’ve got a good sized fry pan,” said Frank. - -“And I’ve got a wire broiler, that shuts up and fits into my pocket,” -said Mr. Rogers. - -“And I’ve got a collapsible camp lantern, that you can see to shut it -up by,” said Lou. - -“Then we’ll do with just those things,” Art said. “Of course, -everybody’ll bring his own cup and knife and spoon. Oh, and how about -maps and compasses, Mr. Rogers? Will we need compasses?” - -“You bet, we’ll _all_ take compasses. Everybody’s got to have a compass -in his pocket before we start.” - -“Why?” asked Frank. “Can’t you always see where you are going on a -mountain? Those pictures of Washington you showed us looked as if the -mountain was all bare rock.” - -“That’s just why we need the compasses,” Mr. Rogers answered. “You can -follow a path through woods, no matter how thick a cloud you may be -in, but when you get up on the bare ledges of the Presidentials, the -path is marked only by little piles of stones, called cairns, every -fifty feet or so, and when a cloud comes up you can’t see, often, from -one to the next, and if you once get away from the path and started in -a wrong direction, you are lost. Many people have been lost on Mount -Washington just that way, and either starved or frozen to death. If you -have a compass, you can steer a compass line down the mountain till you -come to water, and follow the brook out toward the north where there -are houses at the base. But if you haven’t a compass, and get to going -south, you get into a wilderness, and it would go hard with you. Mount -Washington is really a dangerous mountain, even if it is only 6,293 -feet high. The storms come quickly and often without warning, and it -can get very cold up there, as I told you, even in midsummer. Yes, -sir, we’ll all take compasses, and before we tackle the old boy we’ll -have some lectures, too, on how to act in case of cloud!” - -“Don’t we want maps, too?” said Art. “Gee, it sounds more exciting -every minute!” - -“I have the maps,” Mr. Rogers said. “Here are the government maps of -the Presidentials, and here is the little Appalachian Club book, with -maps and trails.” - -He brought out a small book in a green leather cover like a pocketbook, -and opened it, unfolding two maps of the Presidential range, like big -blueprints. - -The boys leaned their heads together over it, and began to spell out -the trails. - -“Gulf Side Trail,” cried Art. “That sounds good.” - -“Here’s the Crawford Bridle Path--that’s a long one--shall we go up -that?” asked Lou. - -Mr. Rogers nodded. “That’s the way we’ll get up Washington,” he said. - -“Hi, I like this one!” Peanut exclaimed. “Six Husbands’ Trail! She goes -down--or _he_ does, seeing it’s husbands--into the Great Gulf, and then -up again--let’s see--up Jefferson. Wow, by the contour intervals it -looks like a steep one!” - -“It is a steep one--wait till you see it,” said Mr. Rogers. - -Art had now turned back from the map into the reading matter. - -“Listen to this!” he exclaimed. “Here’s a description of the Tuckerman -Ravine path up Mount Washington. It’s three and six-tenth miles, and -the time given for it is four hours and fifteen minutes. That’s less -than a mile an hour. Gee, I call that pretty slow!” - -“Do you?” laughed the Scout Master. “Well, if we average a mile an hour -on the steep trails, I’ll be satisfied. You wait till you hit the head -wall with a pack on your back, and a blanket on your shoulder, and see -how many miles an hour you want to travel!” - -“Keeps sounding better and better!” cried Peanut. “Golly, I can’t wait! -When do we start?” - -It was agreed, as soon as Rob got home from college, to start the day -before the Fourth of July, and celebrate the Fourth in the mountains. -Rob suspected that Mr. Rogers suggested this date partially in order -to keep Peanut from getting into trouble “the night before,” as Peanut -was always a leader in the attempts to ring the Congregational church -bell, and this year the sheriff had declared he’d arrest any boy he -caught near the steeple. But Peanut was too excited over the mountain -hike to worry much at losing the night before fun. On the afternoon of -the second, all five Scouts had their equipments ready, and brought -them to Mr. Rogers’ house, which was nearest to the station. The next -morning they were on hand half an hour before train time, and marched -to the station with a flag flying, for Peanut declared, as he unfurled -it, that he was going to plant Old Glory on the top of something on the -Fourth of July. - -Two hours later they changed cars for the White Mountain express, at -Springfield, and soon were rolling up the Connecticut valley, through -country which was strange to them. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -FOURTH OF JULY ON KINSMAN - - -As the train passed along the high embankment above the village of -Deerfield, Massachusetts, the boys crowded to the windows on the left -side of the car, and gazed out upon the meadows where they had camped -at the turning point of their first long hike, several years before. -The village looked sleepy and quiet, under its great trees. - -“Golly, they need waking up again!” Peanut laughed. “Remember how we -trimmed ’em in baseball? There’s the field we played on, too.” - -But almost before the rest could follow Peanut’s beckoning finger, the -train was past. Deerfield was the last familiar spot they saw. Their -way led northward, mile after mile, beside the Connecticut River, and -they began to get a pretty good idea of what a lengthy thing a big -river is. - -“Take a good look at that river, boys,” said Mr. Rogers, “because in a -few days we are going to eat our lunch at one of its head waters, and -you can see what little beginnings big things have.” - -In the afternoon, they came in sight of Mount Ascutney, close to the -river in Windsor, Vermont. - -“That’s only the height of Greylock, which we’ve climbed,” Mr. Rogers -told them. “But you’ll begin to see some of the big fellows pretty -soon.” - -Sure enough, it was not long before Art, who was looking out of the -eastern window, gave a cry. “There’s a big blue lump, with what looks -like a house on top!” - -Mr. Rogers looked. “You’re right, it’s a big lump, all right! That’s -the second one we’ll climb. It’s Moosilauke.” He peered sharply out of -the window. “There,” he added, “do you see a saddleback mountain beyond -it, which looks like Greylock? That’s Kinsman. We’ll celebrate the -Fourth to-morrow, on top of him.” - -“Hooray!” cried Peanut. “I got two packs of firecrackers in my kettle!” - -“How high is it?” asked Frank. - -“About 4,200 feet,” Mr. Rogers answered. “That’s only 700 feet higher -than Greylock, but I can promise you it will seem more, and there’ll be -a different view.” - -Peanut was running from one side of the car to the other, trying to see -everything. But the nearer they got to the mountains, the less of the -mountains they saw. After the train turned up the narrow valley of the -Ammonoosuc, at Woodsville, in fact, they saw no more mountains at all. -An hour later they got off the train at the Sugar Hill station. So did -a great many other people. There were many motors and mountain wagons -waiting to carry off the new arrivals. The boys, at Art’s suggestion, -let these get out of the way before they started, so the dust would -have a chance to settle. It was late in the afternoon when they finally -set out. - -“How far have we got to go?” asked Frank. - -“Seven or eight miles,” Mr. Rogers answered, “if we want to camp at the -base of Kinsman. If you’d rather walk it in the morning, we can camp -along this road.” - -“No, let’s get there to-night! Don’t care if I starve, I’m going to -keep on till I see the mountains,” cried Peanut. - -The rest were equally eager, so up the road they plodded, a road which -mounted steadily through second growth timber, mile after mile, with -scarce a house on it. After an hour or more, they came in sight of -Sugar Hill village, one street of houses straggling up a hill ahead. -They increased their pace, and soon Peanut, who was leading, gave a -cry which startled several people walking on the sidewalk. The rest -hurried up. Peanut had come to the top of the road, and was looking -off eastward excitedly. There were the mountains! Near at hand, hardly -a stone’s throw, it seemed, across the valley below, lay a long, -forest-clad bulwark, rising into domes. Beyond that shot up a larger -rampart, sharply peaked, of naked rock. Off to the left, beyond that, -growing bluer and bluer into the distance, was a billowing sea of -mountains, and very far off, to the northwest, almost like a mist on -the horizon, lay the biggest pyramid of all, which Mr. Rogers told them -was Mount Washington. - -“Some mountains, those!” Peanut exclaimed. “Gee, I guess we won’t climb -’em all in two weeks!” - -“I guess not,” Rob laughed. - -They turned to the right now, passing a big hotel on the very crest of -the hill, and as they passed, the setting sun behind them turned all -the mountains a bright amethyst, so that they looked, as Lou put it, -“like great big jewels.” - -“It’s beautiful!” he added, enthusiastically. - -“Make a poem about it,” said Peanut. “Say, Mr. Rogers, Lou writes -poetry. You oughter read it! He wrote a poem to Lucy Parker one day, -didn’t you, Lou?” - -“Shut up,” said Lou, turning red. - -“Well, if I could write poetry, this view would make me do it, all -right,” Rob put in. “Now where to, Mr. Rogers?” - -“Getting hungry?” said the Scout Master. - -“I sure am.” - -“Well, in an hour we’ll be at camp. All down-hill, too.” - -“Hooray!” cried Art. “This pack is getting heavy.” - -The party now turned sharply down the hill toward the east, and the -great double range of the Franconia Mountains, which Mr. Rogers named -for them. The highest peak on the north of the farther range was -Lafayette, 5,200 feet high. The northern peak of the first range was -Cannon Mountain, the Old Man’s face being on the farther side of it. To -the south the twin summits, like a saddleback, were the two peaks of -Kinsman, which they would climb in the morning. As they dropped rapidly -down the hill, they suddenly saw to the south, in the fading light, a -huge bulk of a mountain filling up the vista. “That’s Moosilauke,” Mr. -Rogers said. “We tackle him day after to-morrow.” - -It was almost dark when they reached the valley, and turned south along -a sandy road with the big black wall of Cannon seeming to tower over -them. It grew quite dark while they were still tramping. - -“Hope you know your way, Mr. Scout Master,” said Peanut, who had ceased -to run on ahead. - -“Half a mile more,” Mr. Rogers laughed. - -Presently they heard a brook, and a moment later stood on a bridge. The -brook was evidently coming down from that great black bulk of Cannon to -the left, which lifted its dome up to the stars. - -“Halt!” Mr. Rogers cried. “Here’s Copper Mine Brook.” - -He led the way through the fence side of the brook, and two minutes -later the party stood in a pine grove, carpeted with soft needles. - -“Camp!” said the Scout Master. “Art, you and the rest get a fire going. -Take Lou’s lantern and find some stones. There are plenty right in the -bed of the brook--nothing but. Peanut, come with me.” - -The Scout Master led Peanut out of the grove to the south, and up over -a pasture knoll a few hundred feet. At the top of the knoll they saw a -white house below them, a big barn, and a cottage. Descending quickly, -Mr. Rogers led Peanut through the wood-shed, as if it were his own -house, and knocked at the kitchen door. - -As the Scout Master and Peanut entered, a man and a little boy arose, -the man’s face expressing first astonishment and then joyous welcome. - -“Well, of all things!” he cried. “Did you drop out of the sky?” - -“Mr. Sheldon, this is Bobbie Morrison, otherwise known as Peanut,” said -Mr. Rogers. “And how is your Bobbie?” - -The little fellow came forward from behind his father’s leg, and shook -hands. But what interested him most was Peanut’s sheath hatchet. In -two minutes he had it out, and was trying to demolish the wood-box -with it--not trying, succeeding! His father had to take it away. - -The Sheldon family all came to welcome Mr. Rogers, and when he and -Peanut returned to camp they carried milk and eggs and doughnuts. - -“That farm,” Mr. Rogers said, “is about the best place I know of to -come to stay, if you want to tramp around for a week or a month.” - -“They kind of like you, I guess,” said Peanut. - -“That’s the kind of folks they are,” answered the Scout Master. - -Back at camp, the Scouts had a fire going briskly, and soon supper was -sizzling, and the smell of coffee, made from the pure water of Copper -Mine Brook, was mingling with the fragrance of the pines, and with -another smell the boys at first did not recognize till Art examined a -small tree close to the fire, and discovered that it was balsam. They -were in the midst of their feast, when Mr. Sheldon appeared, and sat -down with them. - -“You oughtn’t to take ’em away from here without showing ’em the -falls,” he said to the Scout Master. “They are full now--lots of water -coming over--and I cut out the trail fresh this last winter. You can do -it in the morning and still make Kinsman, easily. At least, you can if -they are strong boys,” he added with a wink. - -“Humph!” said Peanut, “I guess we’re as strong as the next.” - -Then he realized that Mr. Sheldon had got a rise out of him, and -grinned. - -“What’s the weather going to be to-morrow?” asked the Scout Master. - -“Clear,” the other man replied. “I didn’t hear the mountain talking as -I came across the knoll.” - -“The mountain _what_?” said Rob. - -“Talking, we say. You get it real still down here sometimes in the -valley, and way up on top there, if you listen sharp, you can hear the -wind rushing through the trees. Then we look out for bad weather.” - -“That’s a funny way to put it,” Lou mused. “It makes the mountains seem -sort of human.” - -“Well, you get to know ’em pretty well, living under ’em all the time, -that’s a fact,” the man answered. “A good sleep to you.” - -“Good-night,” called the Scouts, as he disappeared. - -As soon as the supper things were washed, they were ready for bed, -curling up in their blankets around the fire, for it was chilly here, -even though it was the night before the Fourth--a fact Peanut quite -forgot till he had rolled himself all up for the night. He crawled out -again, set off a couple of firecrackers, and came back to bed. - -“Gee, this is the stillest night before _I_ ever saw!” he exclaimed. - -“It _would_ be, if you’d shut up,” grunted Art, sleepily. - -The next morning Art, as always, was the first up. He rose from his -blanket, aware that it was dawn, and rubbed his eyes. Where was the -dim black wall of the mountain which had gone up against the stars the -night before? He ran out of the grove into a clear space and gazed -up Copper Mine Brook into a white wall of cloud. Back the other way, -he saw that the narrow valley in which they were was hung along the -surface with white mist, as the water of the Lake of the Dismal Swamp -used to be; and the western hills beyond it were in cloud. Yet overhead -the dawn sky appeared to be blue. - -“Guess we’re in for a bad day,” he muttered, peeling off his clothes -and tumbling into the shallow, swift waters of the brook. He emitted a -loud “Wow!” as he fell into the deepest pool he could find. Was this -ice water? He got out again as quickly as possible, and began hopping -up and down to dry himself, his body pink with the reaction. - -His “Wow!” had wakened the camp, and the rest were soon beside him. - -“How’s the water?” asked Peanut. - -“Fine!” said Art, winking at Mr. Rogers. - -Peanut, without a word, rolled over the bank. His “Wow!” sounded like a -wildcat in distress. - -“Cold?” asked Rob. - -“Oh, n-n-no,” said Peanut emerging with chattering teeth. “W-w-warm as -t-t-t-toast.” - -The rest decided to cut out the morning bath, in spite of Art’s jeers. -Even Mr. Rogers balked at ice water. They were all looking, with much -disappointment, at the cloud-covered mountain above them. - -“Wait a bit,” said the Scout Master. “This is going to be a fine -day--you’ll see.” - -Even as they were going back to camp for breakfast, the hills to the -west, touched now with the sun, began to emerge from the mist, or -rather the mist seemed to roll up their sides like the curtain at a -play. By the time breakfast was over, the sun had appeared over Cannon, -and the clouds had mysteriously vanished into a few thin shreds of -vapor, like veils far up in the tree tops. It was a splendid day. - -“Well, I’ll be switched!” said Art. - -“The mountains almost always gather clouds, like a dew, at night in -summer,” the Scout Master said. “Well, boys, do you feel up to tackling -Bridal Veil Falls before we tackle Kinsman?” - -There came a “Yes!” in unison. All packs and equipment were left in -camp, and shortly after six the party set out in light marching trim -up a logging road which followed the brook bed. It led over a high -pasture, and finally plunged into a thick second growth forest, where -the dew on the branches soaked everybody, but particularly Peanut, -who was leading and got the first of it. The path crossed the brook -several times on old corduroy log bridges, now nearly rotted away, and -grew constantly steeper. The boys were panting a bit. They hadn’t got -their mountain wind yet. After two miles, during which, but for the -steepness, they might have been leagues from any mountain for all they -could see, they began to hear a roaring in the woods above them. They -hastened on, and suddenly, right ahead, they saw a smooth, inclined -plane of rock, thirty or forty feet long, with the water slipping down -over it like running glass, and above it they saw a sheer precipice -sixty feet high, with a V-shaped cut in the centre. Through the bottom -of this V the brook came pouring, and tumbled headlong to the ledge -below. - -“Up we go!” cried Peanut, tackling the smooth sloping ledge at a dry -strip on the side. He got a few feet, and began to slip back. - -The rest laughed, and tackled the slide at various spots. Only the -Scout Master, with a grin, went way to the right and climbed easily up -by a hidden path on the side ledge. He got to the base of the falls -before the boys did. - -“A picture, a picture!” cried Frank, as the rest finally arrived. All -the party but Frank scrambled up on a slippery boulder, drenched with -spray, beside the falls, and Frank mounted his tripod and took them, -having to use a time exposure, as there was no sun down under the -precipice. - -“Now, let’s get to the top of the falls!” cried Peanut. “Is there a -path?” - -“Yes, there’s a path, but it’s roundabout, and we haven’t time,” the -Scout Master answered. - -“Ho, we don’t need a path, I guess,” Peanut added. “Just go right up -those rocks over there, clinging to the little hemlocks.” - -He jumped across the brook from boulder to boulder, and started to -scramble up the precipice, on what looked like rocks covered with mossy -soil and young trees. He got about six feet, when all the soil came off -under his feet, the little tree he was hanging to came off on top of -him, and he descended in a shower of mould, moss, mud and evergreen. - -“Guess again, Peanut,” the Scout Master laughed, when he saw the boy -rise, unhurt. “You can’t climb safely over wet moss, you know--or you -didn’t know.” - -“I guess you’re right,” said Peanut, ruefully regarding the precipice. -“But I did want to get up there.” - -“Forward march for Kinsman, I say,” Art put in. “That’s the business of -the day.” - -They started down. At the inclined plane Peanut decided to slide. He -crouched on his heels upon the smooth rock, and began to descend. But -the rock sloped inward almost imperceptibly. Half-way down he was on -the edge of the water, two feet more and he was in the water. His feet -went out from under him, and sitting in the stream (which was only -about three inches deep over the slide) he went down like lightning, -into the brook below! - -The rest set up a shout. Peanut got up upon the farther bank, and stood -dripping in the path. He was soaked from the waist down. “Ho, what do -I care? It’s a warm day,” said he. But he pulled off his boots and -emptied the water out of them, and then wrung out his stockings and -trousers. The rest didn’t wait. They went laughing down the path, and -Peanut had to follow on the run. - -When he caught up, everybody was looking very stern. “Now, Peanut, no -more nonsense,” Mr. Rogers said. “You’ll keep to the path hereafter. -We want no broken bones, nor colds, nor sore feet from spoiled shoes. -Remember, this is the last time!” - -He spoke soberly, sternly. “Yes, sir!” said Peanut, not seeing the wink -the Scout Master gave the rest. - -At camp they shouldered their equipment, stopped at the little store -Mr. Sheldon kept in a wing of his house, to buy some provisions and to -say goodbye, and at ten o’clock were tramping up the road of the narrow -valley, with the blue bulk of Moosilauke directly south of them, Cannon -Mountain just behind to the left, up which they had gone half-way to -the falls, and directly on their left the northern ridges of Kinsman, -covered with dense forest. - -Half a mile down the road Mr. Rogers led the way through a pair of -bars, and they crossed a pasture, went panting up a tremendously steep -path between dense young spruces, passed through another pasture, and -began to climb a steep logging road. It was hard, steady plodding. - -“I’m gettin’ dry,” said Peanut, “but my pants still stick!” - -After a while, the path left the logging road, and swung up still -steeper through the trees. Suddenly they heard water, and a moment -later were standing on a shelf of rock over a waterfall, which came -forth from one of the most curious formations they had ever seen. - -“Another chance for you to get wet, Peanut!” laughed Frank. “What is -this place, Mr. Rogers?” - -“It’s called Kinsman Flume,” the Scout Master answered. - -The flume was a cleft not more than eight feet wide, between two great -ledges of moss-grown rock. It ran back into the hill two hundred feet, -and was at least thirty feet deep. The brook came into the upper end -over a series of waterfalls, and ran out of the lower end, where the -boys were, down another fall. Frank took a picture of it, and then they -crossed the brook at the lower end, and followed the path up along the -top. The path brought them into another logging road, which presently -came out into a level clearing. As they had not seen the top of the -mountain since they entered the woods, everybody gave a gasp now. -There, ahead of them, was the summit--but looking just as high, just as -far off, as ever! Art pulled out his watch. - -“We’ve been going an hour and a quarter--whew!” he said. “I thought we -were ’most there.” - -“A little bigger than it looks, eh?” Mr. Rogers laughed. “Most -mountains fool you that way.” - -The party plodded on a way across the level plateau, and then the -ascent began again--up, up, up, by a path which had evidently once -been a logging road, but had now been eroded by the water, till it was -little better than the dry bed of a brook--and not always dry at that. -The boys began to pant, and mop their foreheads. Then they began to -shift their blanket rolls from one shoulder to the other. The pace had -slowed down. - -“How about that mile an hour being ridiculously slow, Art?” Mr. Rogers -inquired. - -“We’re not doing much better, that’s a fact,” Art admitted. - -Just as he spoke, a partridge suddenly went up from the path, not -twenty-five feet ahead, with a great whir-r-r. When they reached the -spot where he rose, they found a tiny, clear spring. Art flung down his -burden, and dropped on his knees with his cup. - -“Good place for lunch, _I_ say,” remarked Peanut. - -“Me, too, on that,” said Frank. - -Rob looked ahead. The path was growing still steeper. He looked back, -and through the trees he could see far below to the valley. - -“One more vote,” he said. - -“Carried,” said Art, running for fuel. - -After a lunch of bacon and powdered eggs, the party lolled an hour in -the shade, half asleep, and then resumed the climb. The path very soon -entered a forest of a different sort. It was still chiefly hard wood, -but very much darker and denser than that below. The trail, too, was -not a logging road. It was marked only by blazes on the trees, and the -forest floor was black and damp with untold ages of leaf-mould. - -“I guess we’ve got above the line of lumbering,” said Rob. - -“We have,” said the Scout Master. - -Art looked about. “Then this is really primeval forest!” he -exclaimed--“just what it was when there were only Indians in this -country!” - -He investigated the trees more carefully. “Why, most of them are -birches,” he cried, “but they are so old and green with moss that they -don’t look white at all. And look how short they are, for such big -trunks.” - -“You are nearly 4,000 feet up now, remember,” Mr. Rogers reminded him, -“and they are dwarfed by the storms.” - -They came presently out of this dim bit of primeval forest into a -growth composed almost exclusively of spruce. It was thirty feet high -at first, but the path was very steep, and growing rocky, and in five -minutes the spruces had shrunk in height to ten feet. The boys scented -the summit and began to hurry. They struck a level place, and from it, -in gaps between the stunted spruces, they began to get hints of the -view. A quick final scramble, and they found themselves on the north -peak. Peanut was leading. His clothes were dry now, except for a new -soaking of perspiration, and his spirits high. Rob was right on his -heels. The rest heard their shouts, and a second later stood beside -them on a big flat rock, above the spruces which were only three or -four feet tall here, and looked out upon the most wonderful view they -had ever beheld. It made them all silent for a moment. - -Right at their feet, on the opposite side from which they had come -up, the mountain dropped away in an almost sheer precipice for a -thousand feet. At the bottom of that precipice was a perfectly level -plateau, covered with forest, and apparently two miles long by half a -mile wide, with a tiny lake, Lonesome Lake, at one end. Beyond it the -mountain again fell away precipitously into an unseen gorge. From out -of that gorge, on the farther side, rose the massive wall of Lafayette, -Lincoln, Haystack and Liberty, four peaks which are almost like one -long mountain with Lafayette, at the northern end, the highest point, -a thousand feet higher than the boys. The whole side of this long -rampart is so steep that great landslides have scarred it, and the last -thousand feet of it is bare rock. It looked to the boys tremendously -big, and the one blue mountain beyond it, to the east, which was high -enough to peep over seemed very high indeed--Mount Carrigain. - -Peanut drew in his breath with a whistle. Lou sighed. “That’s the -biggest thing I ever saw,” he said. Then he added, “And the most -beautiful!” - -To the southeast, below Mount Liberty at the end of the big rock -rampart, the boys could see off to the far horizon, over a billow of -blue mountains like the wave crest of a gigantic sea--the Sandwich -range, with the sharp cone of Chocorua as its most prominent peak. -Facing due south, they could see, close to them, the south peak of -Kinsman, perhaps half a mile away, across a saddle which was much -deeper than it had looked from the base. Beyond the south peak was -Moosilauke, seeming very close, and on top of it they could now see the -Summit House. To the west, they looked down the slope up which they had -climbed, to the valley, where the houses looked like specks, and then -far off to the Green Mountains of Vermont. - -Peanut grew impatient. “Come on, fellers,” he cried. “This ain’t the -top. What are we waiting here for?” - -“Oh, let us see the view, Peanut,” said Rob. “What’s your rush?” - -“Well, stay and see your old view; I’m going to get to the top first,” -Peanut answered. “Where are we going to camp, Mr. Rogers?” - -“Back here, I guess. There’s a good spring just over the edge below. -We’ll go to the south peak, and then come back.” - -Peanut dumped off his pack into the bushes, kneeled down and took out -the flag and his firecrackers, and then slipped over the brow and -disappeared rapidly along the path which led across the saddle to the -south peak. - -The rest waited till Art had put some dehydrated spinach to soak in a -kettle, and then followed more slowly, seeing nothing of Peanut, for -the path wound amid the stunted spruces which were just tall enough to -out-top a man. They went down a considerable incline, and found two or -three hundred feet of fresh climbing ahead of them when they reached -the base of the south cone. They were scrambling up through the spruces -when suddenly from the summit they heard a report--then a second--a -third--a fourth--then the rapid musketry of a whole bunch of cannon -crackers. It sounded odd far up here in the silence, and not very loud. -The great spaces of air seemed to absorb the sound. - -When they reached the top, Peanut had stripped a spruce of all -branches, and tied the flag to the top. It was whipping out in the -breeze. As the first boy’s head appeared in sight, he touched off -his last bunch of crackers, and, taking off his hat, cried, “Ladies -and gentlemen, salute your flag in honor of the Independence of -these United States of America, and the Boy Scouts of Southmead, -Massachusetts!” - -“Peanut’s making a Fourth of July oration,” Frank called down to the -rest. - -Rob laughed. “From the granite hills of New Hampshire to the sun-kissed -shores of the golden Pacific,” he declaimed, “from the Arctic circle to -the Rio Grande, the dear old stars and stripes shall wave--” - -“Shut up,” said Lou. “This place ain’t the spot to make fun of the flag -in. I say we all just take off our hats and salute it, here on top of -this mountain!” - -Lou spoke seriously. Peanut, who was always quick to take a suggestion, -instantly acquiesced. “Sure,” he said. “Lou’s right. Hats off to the -flag on the Fourth of July!” - -The five Scouts and Mr. Rogers stood on the rock by the improvised -flagstaff, and saluted in silence. Then the Scout Master said quietly, -“We can see from here a good deal of the United States, can’t we? We -can see the granite hills of New Hampshire, all right. We can realize -the job it was for our ancestors to conquer this country from the -wilderness and the Indians, to put roads and railways through these -hills. I guess we ought to be pretty proud of the old flag.” - -The boys put on their hats again, and Frank took a picture of them, -gathered around the flag. Then Peanut let out a pent-up whoop. “Never -celebrated the Fourth like this before!” he cried. “Golly, but -Moosilauke looks big from here!” - -It certainly did look big. It seemed to tower over them. The western -sun was throwing the shadows of its own summit down the eastern slopes, -and the whole great mountain was hazy, mysterious. - -“Are we going to climb that?” asked Frank. - -“Sure,” said Art. - -“Whew!” said Frank. “Makes my legs ache already!” - -“It’s easier than this one,” Mr. Rogers laughed. “Now let’s go back and -make camp.” - -The party retraced their steps to the north peak where, just below -the summit and overlooking the precipitous drop to the Lonesome Lake -plateau, was a small but cold and delicious spring. - -“How does the water get way up here, is what stumps me,” said Frank. - -“I suppose it is rain and snow water, held in the rocks,” the Scout -Master replied. “Perhaps some of it comes along the rock fissures from -the south peak, but that wouldn’t be necessary. There is a little -spring almost at the top of Lafayette over there. We’ll see it in a few -days.” - -“How do we get up Lafayette?” asked Art. - -“We’ll come down from Moosilauke, and tramp up the Notch down there -below our feet now, till we reach Liberty, climb Liberty, and go right -along the ridge to Lafayette, and then down to the Profile House,” was -the answer. - -The boys looked across the valley to the great rock wall on the further -side. The sun was sinking low now, and the shadow of Kinsman was cast -across. Even as they watched, this shadow mounted slowly up the steep, -scarred sides of Liberty and Lincoln, till only their summits were -in sunlight, rosy at first and then amethyst. The far hills to the -southwest began to fade from sight. - -“Gee, it’s time to make camp!” cried Peanut. “Here’s a good, soft -place, on this moss.” - -He pointed to a level spot on the summit. Mr. Rogers shook his head. - -“Nix!” he said. “We’d be chilled through before morning. Which way is -the wind?” - -Art picked up a piece of dry grass and tossed it into the air. It -drifted toward the southeast. - -“Northwest,” he said. - -“All right. We’ll go down into the spruces to leeward, and keep out of -it.” - -The boys soon found a sheltered level space some fifty feet below the -peak, and began to clear out a sort of nest in the tough spruce. - -“Gosh, I never saw anything so tough as these young spruces,” said -Frank. - -Lou had been examining one he had cut down. “They’re not young,” he -answered. “That’s the funny part of it. This one I’ve cut is only four -inches through, but it’s _years_ old. I’ve counted at least forty-five -rings. Guess they are dwarfed by the storms up here, like Japanese -trees, aren’t they, Mr. Rogers?” - -The Scout Master nodded. “I’ve seen ’em only three or four feet -high, when they were so thick together, and so tough, that you could -literally walk on top of ’em without going through to the ground.” - -Peanut dropped his hatchet and slipped down over the rocks to a spot -where the trees were as Mr. Rogers had described. He tried to press -through, and failed. Then he just scrambled out on top of them, and -tried to walk. With every step he half disappeared from sight, while -the rest looked on, laughing. - -After a few steps, he came back. His hands and face were scratched, and -there was a tear in his trousers. - -“Excuse _me_!” he cried. “Gee, the Dismal Swamp has nothing on those -mountain spruces! Golly, I begin to admire the man who made this path -up here!” - -The spruce boughs were so tough, in fact, that only the tips could be -used for bedding, and the boys had to trim the branches with their -knives to make their bunks on the ground. The camp-fire was built of -dead spruce, with some live stumps added, and a kettle of water kept -beside it lest a spark ignite the trees close by. Night had come on -before supper was ready, and with the coming of night it grew cold, -colder than the boys had guessed it could be in July. They put on their -sweaters, which, all day, they had been complaining about as extra -weight, and they kept close to the fire while Art, with the skill of -a juggler, tossed the flapjacks from one side to the other in his fry -pan, catching them neatly as they came down. The wind rose higher, -and began to moan through the spruces. Far below them was the great -black hole of the Notch--just a yawning pit with no bottom. Beyond it -the shadowy bulk of Lafayette, Lincoln, Haystack and Liberty loomed up -against the starry sky. From this side, not a single light was visible -anywhere in the universe. The boys ate their supper almost in silence. - -“Gee, this is lonely!” Peanut suddenly blurted out. “I’m going where I -can see a light.” He got up and climbed to the summit again, followed -by all the others except Lou. They could look westward from the peak, -and see the lamps in the houses down in the valley, and the blazing -lights of the big hotel on Sugar Hill, and even the street lights in -Franconia village. - -“There _is_ somebody else in the world!” cried Peanut. “Glad of that. I -was beginning to think there wasn’t.” - -Just as he spoke, a rocket suddenly went up from Sugar Hill, and burst -in the air. It was followed by another, and another. The boys yelled at -Lou to come and see the fireworks. - -“Oh, dear,” sighed Peanut, “why didn’t I bring a rocket--just _one_ -would be better’n none. Wouldn’t it be some sight for the folks down -there to see it going up from the top of this old mountain, eh?” - -“That _would_ be some celebration, O. K.,” Art cried. “My, let’s come -again next year and do it!” - -Lou slipped back to camp presently, and Mr. Rogers, returning before -the rest, found him sitting on a rock overlooking the black pit of the -Notch, gazing out into space. - -“What is it, Lou?” he said. “A penny for your thoughts.” - -“I was thinking,” Lou answered, “that I was never so near the stars -before. I suppose four thousand feet isn’t much in a billion miles, but -somehow they _look_ bigger, and I can almost feel the earth rolling -over under ’em. It’s the funniest sensation I ever had.” - -“You’re a poet, Lou,” said the Scout Master kindly, as he turned to -call the rest to bed. - -“All hands to bunk!” he shouted. “We’ve had a hard day, with a harder -one ahead.” - -The Scouts got off their boots and rolled up in their blankets, all of -them glad of the chance. Lou blew out the lantern, and turned in, also. -The wind which rushed steadily overhead, with a moaning sound, did not -reach them down here to leeward of the peak, amid the thick spruces. -But it was cold, nonetheless. They lay close together, and drew their -blankets tight. - -“A funny Fourth,” said Peanut sleepily. “Hope we don’t roll off in our -sleep. Good-night, everybody.” - -But there was no reply. Every one else was asleep. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -MOOSILAUKE - - -Everybody was awake early the next morning. “Gosh, I didn’t sleep very -well!” said Peanut, shivering as he built up the fire. “Here it is the -fifth of July, and me wrapped up in an army blanket, with a sweater -on--and cold. Kept waking up, and getting closer to Art. He’s kind o’ -fat and makes a good stove.” - -“Should think you did!” said Art. “You woke me up about forty-’leven -times bumping your back into mine. I wasn’t very cold. Been warmer, -though.” - -“If it’s cold here,” put in Rob, “at four thousand feet, what’ll it be -on Washington at six thousand?” - -“I guess we’ll sleep inside on Washington,” said Mr. Rogers. - -“Oh, no!” cried Art. - -“Well, you can bunk outside, and the rest of us’ll go in,” laughed -Frank. “Look, there’s the sun!” - -Sure enough, in the east, across the white cloud which hung below -them in the Notch, and beyond the wall of the Lafayette range, a -great red ball was rising. It seemed to heave up above the mists as -though somebody was pushing it from underneath, and as it got up and -cast its rays across the Notch to their feet, Lafayette looked like a -huge island of rock above a white sea of vapor. This vapor rolled up -and blew away as they were eating breakfast. The morning was fine and -clear. Mr. Rogers pointed toward Moosilauke. “That’s where we’ll be at -night,” he said. - -“It doesn’t look possible!” said Lou. - -“It won’t be, if we don’t start,” said Art. “Got your flag, Peanut, or -did you leave it on the south peak?” - -“I got it, all right,” Peanut replied. “Are we ready? How far is it, -Mr. Rogers?” - -“Hm--four miles down this mountain,--ten to the base of -Moosilauke--five miles up--nineteen miles.” - -“A pickle,” said Peanut, and pack on back he plunged over the summit, -and down the path into the spruces, the rest trailing behind. - -“Go after him, Rob,” said the Scout Master, “and hold him back. He’ll -tire his front leg muscles all out, if he doesn’t break his neck.” - -Rob went, and held Peanut by main force till the rest came up. - -“You couldn’t have held me,” cried Peanut, “if I hadn’t wanted to say -that we could go down easier with poles. We ought to have brought our -poles. What can we cut for ’em?” - -“Moose wood,” said Art. “I saw moose wood a bit further down, as we -came up.” - -So the party plunged on, finding the steep descent quick work, the -chief difficulty being not to go too fast. At the first sign of moose -wood, Art gave a cry, and soon the whole party had cut staves six feet -long. - -“I’m going to leave this pretty green and white bark on mine, and cut -my initials in it to-night,” Lou announced. - -“A good idea,” the rest agreed. - -Shouldering their packs again, they put out the staves ahead of them, -threw their weight forward, and with this assistance descended with -even greater rapidity and much more safety. They stopped in the Flume -only long enough for a drink, and again plunged down. As they came out -into the level pasture near the base, Peanut slowed down. - -“Wow,” he said, wiping his forehead, “that looks easy, but you really -work awful hard holding in!” - -“You’ll know you’ve worked about to-morrow,” Mr. Rogers laughed. - -They made the four miles to the road in a little over half an hour, -which, as Art said, is “going some.” - -It was less than eight o’clock when they faced the ten miles of road to -Moosilauke. - -The first thing to attract particular attention was the village of -Easton, through which they passed half an hour later. Of the half -dozen houses in the village, two were quite abandoned. There was a tiny -store, and a small sawmill, and that was all. Beyond the village they -passed an abandoned church. Then followed two or three small houses, -also abandoned, and then nothing but the narrow, sandy road, winding -through woods and fields, with Kinsman growing farther behind them on -the left, and Moosilauke nearer straight ahead. They went for more than -an hour without meeting a single wagon or motor, and after they left -Easton they did not see a human being. - -“Pretty lively little road, this,” said Peanut. - -“Makes you think of Broadway, New York,” laughed Rob. - -“Look!” said Lou. “Moosilauke isn’t blue any longer. You can see the -green of the forest.” - -“You can see what _was_ a forest,” said Mr. Rogers. “The paper company -have stripped it.” - -“Why paper?” asked Peanut. - -“Why paper!” Art sniffed. “You poor boob, don’t you know that paper is -made out of wood pulp?” - -“I thought it was made out of old rags,” Peanut answered. - -“It is,” said Rob. - -“Well--what----” - -Everybody laughed. “Newspaper is made of wood pulp--spruce and balsam -almost entirely,” said the Scout Master, taking pity on Peanut. “Linen -paper, such as the kind you write letters on, is made out of linen -rags. The newspapers use up so much paper for their great Sunday -editions, especially, that they are really doing almost more to strip -the forests than the lumbermen, because they don’t even have to wait -till the trees get good sized.” - -“Why can’t they use anything except spruce and balsam?” asked Lou. -“Won’t other kinds of wood make paper?” - -“They’ll make paper,” said Mr. Rogers, “but the fibre isn’t tough -enough to stand the strain of the presses. You know, a newspaper press -has to print many thousands of copies an hour; it runs at high speed. -The paper is on a huge roll, and it unwinds like a ribbon into the -press. It has to be tough enough so that it won’t break as it is being -unwound. There’s a fortune waiting for the man who can invent a tough -paper which can be made out of cornstalks, or something which can be -grown every year, like a crop. Think how it would save our forests! -I’m told that every Sunday edition of a big New York newspaper uses up -about eleven acres of spruce.” - -“Gee, Sunday papers ain’t worth it!” Art exclaimed. - -“They are not, that’s a fact,” Mr. Rogers agreed. - -“I don’t see,” Lou put in, “why a paper mill couldn’t buy up a great -tract of woodland, and then forest it scientifically, taking out the -big trees every year, and planting little ones. I shouldn’t think it -would cost any more than it would to haul lumber to the mills from all -over creation.” - -“It wouldn’t, Lou,” said Mr. Rogers, “but we in America haven’t learned -yet to do things that way. Our big mills and business concerns are all -too careless and selfish and wasteful. And the public is paying the -penalty. Look at that----” - -They had come around a bend in the road, close to the north shoulder -of the mountain now, and could see how all the upper slopes had been -stripped down to bare soil by the lumbermen. - -“That soil will probably dry out, landslides or fires will come, and -it may be a thousand years before the mountain is forested again,” Mr. -Rogers exclaimed. “It’s a perfect outrage!” - -The party presently came into a crossroad, running east and west. It -was a bit more traveled than the one they were on. They turned down it -to the left, and reached a curious settlement, or rather the remains -of a settlement. There were several rough, unpainted board houses, a -timber dam across a small river, and everywhere on the ground lay old -sawdust, beginning to rot down, with bushes growing up through it. - -“This is Wildwood. It’s all that remains of a lumber town,” said Mr. -Rogers. “The mill stood by that dam. They cleared all this end of the -valley many years ago, and sent their lumber on teams down the Wild -Ammonoosuc valley to the railroad.” - -The party now turned south again, crossed the Wild Ammonoosuc at the -dam, and began ascending gradually along a road which seemed to be -making for the notch on the west side of Moosilauke. - -“Only two miles more to the base,” said the Scout Master. - -Art looked at his watch. “It’s only eleven o’clock,” he said. “Couldn’t -we have a swim in that brook down there? I’m awful hot.” - -“Me, too,” said Peanut. “And my bloomin’ old boot is hurting my heel. I -want to fix it.” - -“That’s because you got it so wet yesterday,” said Rob. “For heaven’s -sake, take your clothes off before you go in to-day!” - -Everybody turned from the road to the brook, which was almost a small -river. It came down from the sides of Moosilauke, and evidently joined -the Wild Ammonoosuc near the dam. In a moment five boys and a man were -sticking their toes into it gingerly, and withdrawing them with various -“Ouches!” and “Wows!” - -“Cowards!” cried Art. “Here goes. What’s cold water?” - -He selected a pool between two big stones, and went all under. The rest -followed suit. There was no place deep enough to swim in, however, and -they all very soon came out, and dried themselves on the bank. - -“My, that makes you feel better, though!” Frank exclaimed. “Nothing -like a bath on a hike to set you up!” - -“I got a blister,” said Peanut, who was examining his heel. “Oh, dear, -who’s got the first aid kit?” - -Rob had it, of course, as he was always the doctor. He put some -antiseptic on the blister, which had burst, dressed it, and bound it -firmly across with surgeon’s plaster, so the shoe could not rub it. - -“You wouldn’t have had it if you hadn’t got your feet so wet -yesterday,” he said. “The leather dried stiff. Perhaps you’ll behave -now.” - -“Yes, doctor, what is your fee?” Peanut grinned. - -The other five pairs of feet were all right, and the march was resumed. -At noon they emerged out of the woods into a small clearing on the -west side of Moosilauke. There was a tiny hotel in this clearing, and -nothing else. On the right, a second, but much lower mountain, Mount -Clough, went sharply up. Due south was a deep gap, like a V, between -Clough and Moosilauke--the notch which led to the towns south. - -“Here’s where the path begins,” said the Scout Master. “We’ve done -fourteen miles, at least, this morning. I guess we’ll have lunch.” - -“Let’s get up into the woods first, by a spring,” the boys urged, -so they entered on the path, which immediately began to go up at a -steepish angle through a forest of hard wood--a very ancient forest. - -“Looks as if it had never been lumbered,” said Art. “Wow! look at the -size of those maples and beeches!” - -“The paper men don’t want hard wood, thank goodness,” Mr. Rogers -answered. “We’ll get about a mile of this.” - -They soon found a spring beside the path, and under the shadows of -the great trees they made a fire and cooked lunch. Then, for an hour, -everybody rested, lying on his back and listening to the beautiful -songs of the hermit thrushes. Peanut and Art and Frank went to sleep, -while Lou and Rob and Mr. Rogers talked softly. It was a lazy, peaceful -hour, up there in the great forest. At two o’clock Rob beat a tattoo on -his frying-pan, to wake up the sleepers, and ordered the march to begin. - -For the next two hours it was steady plodding. The Benton Path, by -which they were climbing, was clear and good. They came out of the -hard timber forest in a little over half an hour, into slash land, -now growing up into scraggly woods, full of vines and brambles, and -presently the path wound to the edge of a steep ravine, where they -could look down at the tumbling waterfalls of the brook they had -swum in that morning, and across the ravine to the stripped northern -shoulders. The second hour of climbing was merely monotonous ascent, -toilsome and slow, with no view at all. They had now put four miles -below them, and the signs of lumbering ceased. They were getting close -to timber line, where the stunted spruces were not worth cutting. For -a little way the path grew less steep, and they quickened their pace. -The trees were now no higher than bushes. They saw the summit ahead, -though the house seemed to have disappeared; and the view opened out. -Westward they could see to the Green Mountains, and beyond the Green -Mountains, like a blue haze, the Adirondacks. At their feet they began -to notice tiny mountain cranberry vines. Peanut tasted one of the half -ripe cranberries, puckered up his face, and spit it hastily out. The -path grew steep again. The trees vanished. The way grew rocky, with -cranberries between the rocks everywhere. At last only the final heave -to the summit seemed to confront them. Peanut, forgetting his lame -heel, panted up ahead, and emitted a cry of disappointment. - -“Gee whiz,” he shouted back, “there’s the Summit House a quarter of a -mile away!” - -“You’ll learn yet that you’re never on the top of a mountain till you -get there,” Mr. Rogers laughed. - -But this final quarter mile was nearly level--or seemed so after the -steep climb--and they were soon at the Summit House, with the view -spread out to all four parts of the compass. - -What a view it was! But all the boys concentrated their gaze in one -direction--northeast. There, thirty miles or more away, over the top -of the Lafayette range, they saw Mount Washington again, for the first -time since the first Sugar Hill view, saw even the Summit House on -its cone. That was the final goal of their hike--the high spot--and -beside it all the billowing sea of blue mountain tops between paled to -insignificance. - -“She looks a long way off!” said Art. - -“And me with a blister,” sighed Peanut. “But it’s Pike’s Peak--I mean -Washington--or bust!” - -The party now turned their attention to the Summit House, which was a -two-story structure of fair size, built partly of stone, with great -chains going over it to lash it down. - -“I suppose if it wasn’t chained down it would blow away in winter,” -said Art. “Strikes me we’re going to get some blow, even to-night.” - -The west did, indeed, look windy, with great clouds suddenly piling up. -But the Scout Master said you could never tell much about mountain -weather--at least he couldn’t. They entered the little hotel to see -the inside. Several people were there already. At the back of the room -was a big stove, with a fire in it, too. To the boys, who had but just -arrived after their hot climb, the room seemed uncomfortably warm. - -“Going to spend the night here? Don’t know whether I’ve got room for -you all,” said the proprietor. - -“No, we’re going to sleep out,” Rob answered him. “We never sleep -inside on a hike.” - -“Well, I reckon you’ll need your blankets,” the man said. “The water -froze here last night, in the rain barrel.” - -“What’s that?” put in Peanut, who was examining picture post-cards. -“Say, I move we go back down a way to camp.” - -“I do too, if you’re going to try again to warm yourself between my -shoulder blades,” said Art. - -Everybody laughed, and a man came forward from behind the stove--a -funny looking man, with big, hobnail shoes and big, shell-rimmed -spectacles. - -“Which way are you going down the mountain in the morning?” he asked. - -“By the Beaver Brook Trail,” Mr. Rogers answered. - -“Oh, that’s all right, then,” said their new acquaintance. “You stay up -here long enough to see the sunset, and then I’ll take you down the -trail into the woods beyond the head of Jobildunk Ravine. You’ll keep -warm in there, all right.” - -“Can you find your way back, sir?” asked Lou. - -The man’s eyes twinkled. “If I can’t, I deserve to be lost,” he -answered. “I’ve lived a month on top of this mountain every summer for -more years than I care to confess.” - -“Gee, it must be slow up here all that time!” said Peanut. - -“What do you mean, slow, young man?” the other asked. - -Peanut fumbled a moment for words. “Why, nothing doing--no excitement,” -he finally replied. - -“Ah, youth, youth! Happy, happy youth!” the stranger exclaimed. “You -love excitement, eh? Well, you’ll get some going down the Beaver Brook -Trail to-morrow. By George, I’ve a great mind to give you some now! How -far have you walked to-day?” - -“Nineteen miles,” said Peanut, shifting uneasily on his sore heel, and -beginning to repent what he had said. Somehow, as Art whispered to -Frank, the man looked as if he could “deliver the goods.” - -“No, that’s far enough,” the stranger replied, after a long pause, as -if for reflection. “I won’t dare a man who’s hiked nineteen miles--or a -boy either.” - -“Oh, if it’s a dare----” Peanut began. - -“No, sir, won’t do it; you can’t bluff me into it!” the man laughed. -“But if you think there’s no excitement on Moosilauke, you stay here a -few days, and let me take you botanizing a bit, say into Jobildunk.” - -“What’s that name again, sir?” asked Rob. - -“Jobildunk,” the man answered. “It is a big ravine discovered by -three men, named Joe, Bill and Duncan. So they made a portmanteau -word, and named it Jo-bil-dunc after all three. The ‘k’ got put on -later, I suppose. Come on out of this hot room, you chaps, and see my -playground.” - -“I like him,” whispered Rob as they followed him through the door. - -He was a small man, but they soon found he was tremendously active. In -front of the hotel was a road. The summit of Moosilauke is about a mile -long, nearly level, but highest on the north end, where the hotel is. -This road ran all the way along the summit, to the southern end, where -it vanished around the little south peak. It was a crushed stone road, -all right, for there was nothing but stones to make it of. It was just -a white ribbon, winding amid the gray boulders and mountain cranberry -plants. The man led the way rapidly down it, and the tired boys had -all they could do to keep up. Half a mile from the Summit House he -stopped, leaped on a boulder beside the road, and pointed back. - -“Here’s my favorite view,” he said. “The little gray Summit House away -up there at the end of the white road, against the sky, the white road -running the other way down toward the valley world, and all off there -to the west, just space and sunset!” - -It was pretty fine. The sun was now descending into the western cloud -bank, and turning the clouds to rose and gold. It looked hundreds of -miles away. - -“Do those clouds mean rain?” asked Art. - -“Nary a drop,” said the man. “Hello!--here’s an _Argynnis atlantis_!” - -He made a mad dive with his hat, put it quickly over a low plant, and -drew from under a beautiful butterfly, all gold and silver, with a -black border around the wings. - -“The small mountain fritillary,” he said. “Often comes up here, but -shouldn’t be here with the wind so strong. What I’m looking for really -is an _Oeneis semidea_, an arctic butterfly which they say is found -only on Mount Washington. He’s gray, like the rocks. Looks like a two -inch piece of lichen. Haven’t found one yet, though. You watch this -fritillary follow the road down the mountain, now.” - -He let the butterfly go, and sure enough, it started down the road, -flying not more than three feet above the ground, and as long as the -boys could watch it, it was keeping to every turn and twist. - -“He knows the way down!” laughed the man. “And he knows he has no -business up here when it’s so cold, with night coming on. He’ll get -down, though, at that rate. - -“And now, boys,” continued this odd man, “you be as wise as the -butterfly! Back to the hotel, shoulder packs, and to your camp!” - -He led the way again up the road. He walked so fast that the five boys -and Mr. Rogers were all panting. But he himself was not out of breath -in the least. He laughed at Peanut. - -“Anyhow, I get my wind good in a month up here,” he said, “even if it -is ‘slow’ and I’m old enough to be your grandfather!” - -“You’ve not walked nineteen miles to-day,” said Peanut. - -“No, but I’ve walked sixteen,” the man replied. “I’ve been down nearly -to North Woodstock and back, by the Beaver Brook Trail. You’ll know -what I mean when you see that trail.” - -Peanut was silent. - -At the Summit House the boys bought some post-cards showing the view -from the top, Frank took a picture of the sunset, to label “Moonlight -from Moosilauke,” and they all picked up their packs and followed their -new leader. He took them back over the path they had come up for a few -hundred feet, and suddenly plunged sharp to the east. They began at -once to go down. Soon the path skirted the edge of a great gorge, which -was like a gigantic piece of pie cut out of the mountainside, with the -point toward them. The sides were almost precipitous, and covered with -dense spruce. - -“That’s Jobildunk Ravine. Want to go down it with me, my young friend?” -the man asked Peanut. - -“Thanks--not till after supper,” Peanut grinned. - -As they were on the east side of the summit, it quickly grew dark. The -man led the way unerringly, however, along a level stretch of path -beside the ravine, and presently plunged into the woods. They were now -below timber line. In a few moments he halted. - -“Got a lantern?” he said. - -Lou lighted the camp lantern, and the man showed them a spring, close -to the path. “Plenty of dead wood on the trees--lower branches of those -spruce,” he added. “Good-night, all!” - -“Oh, stay and have supper with us!” cried all the Scouts together. - -“Well, since you urge, I will,” said he. “Don’t make me cook, though. -I’m a bad cook.” - -“You sit down, and be company,” Peanut laughed. - -The boys rather showed off in getting supper ready. Art made the fire -pit and the fire, Peanut and Frank gathered wood, Rob brought water and -fixed up the props and cross-bar to swing the kettle from, and then -cleared out a space for sleeping, cutting spruce boughs for the bed. -Lou, meanwhile, got out enough food for the meal, and began to mix the -flapjack dough. Mr. Rogers, like the stranger, was not allowed to do -any work. - -“Well, you’ve got five of the Gold Dust twins here, for sure!” the man -laughed. - -“They’re Boy Scouts, and used to making camp,” Mr. Rogers answered. - -“They surely are used to it,” the man said. “I tell you, it’s a great -movement that trains boys for the open like that!” - -The Scouts, hearing this, redoubled their efforts, and bacon was -sizzling, coffee boiling, flapjacks turning, in a very few moments more. - -Supper was a merry meal. The fire was restocked with fresh wood after -the cooking had been done, and blazed up, throwing reflections into -the trees overhead and quite paling the light of Lou’s lantern, which -swung from a branch. Their new friend joked and laughed, and enjoyed -every mouthful. When supper was over, he pulled several cakes of sweet -chocolate out of his pocket, and divided them for dessert. “Always -carry it,” he said. “Raisins and sweet chocolate--that makes a meal -for me any time. Don’t have to cook it, either.” - -He sat with his back against a tree after the meal, and told stories of -the mountain. “I used to tramp over all these hills every vacation,” -he said, “and many a good time I’ve had, and many a hard time, too, on -Washington, especially. I was caught in a snow-storm one June on the -Crawford Bridle Path and nearly froze before I got to the Mt. Pleasant -Path down. The wind was blowing a hundred miles an hour, at least, -and went right through me. I couldn’t see twenty feet ahead, either. -Luckily, I had a compass, and by keeping the top of the ridge, I found -the path without having to take a chance on descending through the -woods. But nowadays, I’m getting old, and this fellow Moosilauke is -more to my liking. A big, roomy, comfortable mountain, Moosilauke, with -a bed waiting for you at the top, and plenty to see. Why, he’s just -like a brother to me! I keep a picture of him in my room in New York -to look at winters, just as you” (he turned to Rob) “keep a picture of -your best girl on your bureau.” - -Rob turned red, while the rest laughed at him. To turn the subject, Rob -said hastily: - -“Why is the mountain called Moosilauke?” - -“It used to be spelled Moose-hillock on all the maps when I was a boy,” -the man replied. “People thought it meant just that--a hill where the -Indians used to shoot moose. But finally somebody with some sense came -along and reasoned that the Indians would hardly name a mountain with -English words, when they had known it for generations before they ever -heard any English. He began to investigate, and discovered, I’m told, -that the Pemigewassett Indians--the tribe which lived in the valley -just to the south--really called it Moosilauke, which means, as far as -I can make out, ‘The great bald (or bare) mountain,’ because the top -has no trees on it. The Indians never climbed it. They never climbed -mountains at all, because they believed that the Great Spirit dwelt on -the tops. I fancy they held Moosilauke in particular veneration--and -right they were; it’s the finest old hill of ’em all!” - -“You like the mountains, don’t you, sir?” said Lou. - -“You bet,” the other answered. “They are about the biggest and solidest -things we have, and the only folks who get to the top of ’em are folks -with good legs, like you boys. I like people with good legs, but I -don’t like lazy people. So on the mountains I’m sure of good company. -It’s the only place I am sure of it--except, of course, in my own room, -with the door locked!” - -Peanut led the laugh at this. - -Before their new friend rose to go, he told them something of the trail -down the mountain. “It’s an Appalachian Club trail,” he said, “but it’s -not so well kept up as those on the Presidentials, and it’s almighty -steep in places. You’ll find it good fun. When you get to the bottom, -turn to the left and have a look at Beaver Meadow. It’s an acre or more -across, and was really cleared by beavers. You can still see the ruins -of their old dam. Then go through Lost River, and you’ve seen the best -of that region. Good-night, boys, and good hiking!” - -“Will you be all right in the dark, around the head of the ravine?” -asked Mr. Rogers. - -“The soles of my feet are as good a guide as my eyes on this path,” the -man laughed. - -But Peanut jumped up, took the lantern, and insisted on escorting him -along the path till it had passed the head of the ravine. Fifteen -or twenty minutes later, when Peanut reappeared, he found the rest -ready for bed. Rob gave Peanut’s sore heel a fresh dressing, and then -everybody turned in, lying close together for warmth. As they were -dozing off, Peanut suddenly exclaimed, “Hang it!” in a loud tone. - -“What’s the matter with you?” asked Art crossly. “Go to sleep!” - -“I forgot to carve on my stick how far we’ve walked to-day,” said -Peanut. - -“Well, you can do it to-morrow, can’t you? Shut up now!” - -“Oh, very well,” said Peanut, relapsing into silence, and then into -sleep--the sleep of the utterly weary. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -LOST RIVER AND THE LADIES - - -Once again the camp was astir at sunrise, shortly after four. Everybody -was cold, and, truth to tell, a little cross. - -“We’re not hardened to this high air yet, I guess,” said Art, as he -built up the fire. But breakfast restored their good nature, and -they all went back up the path to have a look at Jobildunk Ravine by -daylight, while Mr. Rogers was shaving. - -“Got to shave, boys,” he said, “because we strike a town--North -Woodstock--this afternoon.” - -It was after six before the descent of the mountain began. At first the -way led through thick woods, and, while it was steep, seemed no steeper -than Kinsman. They came upon the embers of two or three camp-fires -beside springs, and presently upon a small lean-to, built of bark and -hemlock boughs, which would hold two people. - -“Somebody got tired half-way up,” laughed Art. “Gee, they could have -got to the top while they were building this.” - -“Maybe they liked to build,” Lou suggested, which seemed unanswerable. - -The path below this point swung over to the side of a rushing brook, -and they began to enter a region where the lumbermen had been, -stripping the forest down to bare soil and leaving behind dry, ugly -slash. The path grew steeper every moment. The brook went down the -mountain in a series of cascades, one after the other, and at almost -every waterfall the path beside it dropped almost as steeply. In some -places there were rough ladders to descend by. At other places you -simply had to swing over a root and drop, often landing in soft, wet -leaf-mould, and sinking up to the ankles. - -“Steep? Well, I should smile!” said Peanut. “Say, fellers, don’t you -wish we were going up instead of down?” - -“Can’t say I do,” Frank answered. “I don’t see how anybody does get up -here, ’specially with a heavy pack. Wasn’t this path ever better than -this?” - -“It must have been once. The water has washed it,” the Scout Master -replied. - -Just then they came to a six foot drop, and Frank took it first. He -unslung his camera at the bottom, and snapped the rest as they came -tumbling after him. - -“That’ll prove we had some steep work, all right,” he said. - -“I believe if my pants were stronger, I’d just sit down and slide the -rest of the way,” Peanut laughed. - -But such steep descents have one great advantage--they get you down -quickly. Almost before the boys realized that they were at the bottom, -they found themselves walking along a level wood road, and it seemed -suddenly very still. - -“It’s the brook--we don’t hear the water falling any more,” said Art. - -They came out quickly upon the highway--or so much of a highway as ran -through this tiny notch. It was hardly more than a wood road. They -turned to the left, as their friend on Moosilauke had advised, and in -a moment came into a grassy clearing, with the ruins of an old logging -camp at one side. This was Beaver Meadow. To the left, the steep wall -of Moosilauke leapt up, and they could see the course of Beaver Brook, -beside which they had descended, the white of its waterfalls flashing -here and there in the sun. To the right was Wildcat Mountain, really a -foot-hill of Kinsman. The meadow itself was very green, and the road -went through the middle of it. At the western end, it narrowed to -perhaps a hundred feet in width, and here a little brook flowed out, -beside the road, and on either side they saw the remains of a dam, -perhaps three or four feet high, quite grown over with grass and bushes. - -“The beaver dam!” cried Art. “They just cut down the trees on each -side, and let them fall over the brook, and then plastered ’em up with -mud, eh? My, but they are smart!” - -“Did they clear all the trees out of this meadow, too?” asked Frank. - -“They didn’t have to do that,” the Scout Master replied. “Once they -had the brook dammed back the water killed the trees--killed ’em so -thoroughly that this meadow has remained open long after the beavers -have vanished, and their dam has been broken open by the road.” - -“But why do they go to all that trouble?” said Frank again. - -“How many ponds have you seen in these parts?” said Art, scornfully. -“They wouldn’t make a dam if they could find a natural pond shallow -enough so their houses could come up above water, like a muskrat’s, -would they, Mr. Rogers? But I suppose they couldn’t find one around -here, so they just made it themselves. I think they’re about the -smartest animal there is.” - -“You mean was,” said Peanut. “I never saw one. Did you?” - -“No,” said Art, sadly. “I’d like to, though. Gee, it’s a shame the way -women have to wear furs, and kill off all the animals! Sometimes I wish -there _weren’t_ any girls.” - -“Well, they’re not troubling us much this week,” Mr. Rogers laughed. -“Now for Lost River!” - -The party turned east, and proceeded down the road for about half a -mile, by an easy grade, till they came quite unexpectedly upon a -souvenir post-card and “tonic” store, built of birch logs, beside -the path. Here they stopped, and after buying a bottle of ginger ale -apiece, a young French-Canadian lumberman, who ran the store and acted -as guide during the summer season, agreed to pilot them through Lost -River. He advised them to put on overalls before starting, but they -scorned the suggestion. While they were debating the point with him, -there was a sudden sound of voices outside, and in the doorway of the -little log store appeared a party of women and girls--and one lone man. - -“Poor Art!” said Peanut, giving him a poke in the ribs. - -This party wanted to go through Lost River, too. - -“We can’t keep the guide all to ourselves and make him lose this other -job,” said Mr. Rogers. “Besides, we’re Scouts, and we ought to do a -good turn and help those women folks through.” - -“Aw, no! Let’s cut out the guide, then, and go through alone!” said Art. - -“No,” Mr. Rogers said, “I don’t remember the way. I was never through -but once, years ago; besides, we’d miss half the sights.” - -“Say,” whispered Peanut, “will those _girls_ put on overalls?” - -“I guess they’ll have to,” said Mr. Rogers. - -“Me for that!” cried Peanut, with a whoop. “Go on, Art, by yourself, -if you want. I’m going to be a gay little Sir Launcelot to a dame in -overalls!” - -All the boys laughed, except Art, who was still scowling. - -“Cheer up, Art,” whispered Rob. “It sounds like fun to me. Look at that -nice girl in the door; she’s looking at you.” - -Art turned instinctively, and his eyes met those of a very pretty girl -in pink, who was in the doorway. He blushed. So did the girl. Peanut -winked at Rob, who winked back. - -“He’ll come,” they each whispered to the other. - -Mr. Rogers was talking to the guide, and to the lone man who had -accompanied this party. The man took him over to the women (there were -two women and five girls), and the boys saw their Scout Master bow, and -talk with them. A moment later he came across the room. - -“That poor man has brought his wife and two daughters and three of -their friends and another woman up from North Woodstock, boys,” he -said. “I can see they are all greenhorns at this sort of work. It’s -really up to us to help ’em. They are going to get into overalls now.” - -The women and girls went up-stairs to the second story of the log -house, and the boys could hear them tittering and giggling, and -emitting little cries of “Ah!” and “Oh, my gracious!” and “I can never -go down in these!” The man came over to talk to the Scouts. He was in -old clothes, he said, which he didn’t mind getting dirty. He was a -timid looking man, and seemed grateful that the Scouts were going to -help him out. - -A few minutes later, a pair of feet--very small feet--appeared, very -slowly, on the stairs, and the first girl--the one in pink--came down. -Her cheeks were as pink as her dress--or what could be seen of her -dress. She had on a pair of long overalls, turned up at the bottom, -with her skirts wobbed up somehow inside of them, and the apron buckled -up to her neck. She looked very much like a fat boy in his father’s -trousers. Peanut laughed--he couldn’t help it. - -“I think you are horrid!” she said, darting an angry look at him. - -“He--he didn’t mean anything,” Art stammered. “You look all right -for--for such rough work.” - -“Thank you,” said the girl, and she came over and stood between her -father and Art. - -Peanut again winked at Rob. - -All the rest of the feet now began to come down the stairs, and soon -five fat boys in their daddies’ trousers, and two women looking like -Tweedledum and Tweedledee (it was Peanut who suggested that!) stood in -the room, blushing and laughing. - -“Now come on, we can’t think of our clothes any more. Let’s get to -Lost River,” exclaimed the girl in pink. - -She seemed to pick Art as her natural escort, and the pair of them led -the way through the door, beside the guide. - -“I don’t see any river, though,” said Peanut, to the girl he was with, -as they went through the woods behind the cabin. - -“Of course you don’t; it’s a lost river,” she said. - -“Oh!” said Peanut. “I forgot that. Well, here’s where it was lost, I -guess.” - -The guide just ahead of them had suddenly disappeared into a hole in -the ground, helping Art and the pink girl down after him. - -“My goodness!” exclaimed the girl at Peanut’s side. She was a small -girl, with very black eyes, which twinkled. The other girls had called -her Alice. - -“Oh, it’s nothing,” Peanut reassured her. “_We’ve_ been falling down -places since six o’clock.” - -“I wasn’t thinking of myself,” Alice answered, “but of poor Mamma. -Mamma isn’t so _slender_ as--as _you_ are.” - -“Mr. Rogers will look after Mamma,” said Peanut. “Come on!” - -He dropped ahead of her into the hole, and clasping his hands in front -of him, made a stirrup for her to put her foot in, like a step, as she -followed. - -They found themselves on a rocky ledge, with another drop ahead -of them. At the bottom of this drop stood the guide, Art, and the -pink girl, in daylight. The place was really the bottom of a little -cañon, concealed in the woods, and a small river (not much more than -a brook) flowed along it. On their right, to the east, however, the -river vanished completely out of sight, into a great piled up mass -of boulders. The leaders waited till all the party had arrived at -the bottom, and then the guide led the way directly in among these -boulders, the girls and women screaming and laughing as they followed. - -It became damp and cold and dark immediately. They entered a sort of -cave, made by two rocks meeting overhead, and dropped down several -feet to what felt like a sandy beach, though they could, at first, see -nothing. But they could hear the water running beside them. - -“Look out here,” said the guide, “or you’ll step into the water. Follow -me.” - -Alice, however, didn’t follow him. She was a frisky girl, and she -wanted to see all there was to see, so she stepped to the left, and -suddenly screamed. - -Peanut grabbed her hand and pulled her back. - -“Sh,” she whispered. “Up to the knees! But Mamma’d make me go back if -she knew!” - -“What’s the matter, Alice?” called her mother. - -“She stubbed her toe,” Peanut answered, quickly. - -“Oh, you nice little liar!” chuckled Alice. - -Peanut was beginning to like her! - -The strange, underground path grew stranger and stranger. Sometimes -they came out into daylight, and saw the sky and the walls of the -cañon far above them, sometimes they stood in caves fifteen feet high, -sometimes they had to cross the stream on planks, sometimes go up or -down ladders. Finally they came to a place where the way was completely -blocked, save for a small hole, which didn’t look more than two feet -across. - -Somebody had painted above it, “Fat Man’s Agony.” - -“Don’t worry me a bit,” said Peanut. - -“Quick, let’s get through, and watch Mamma come out,” cried Alice. - -Art and the pink girl had disappeared into the hole already, Art going -first. Alice lay down on her stomach and began to wriggle through after -them, Peanut following. The guide remained behind to help the rest. The -passage was on an incline, leading upward, and it seemed very long. It -was certainly very dark. But they emerged presently (the tunnel coming -out four feet above the ground, so one had to do quite an acrobatic -stunt to gain his feet, if he was coming head foremost), and found Art -and the pink girl waiting for them at the mouth of a cave. - -Behind them they could hear the screams and laughter of the rest, and -Mamma’s voice exclaiming, “I _never_ can get through there, I tell you!” - -Alice put her face to the hole and shouted back, “Come on, Mamma, we’ll -pull you through if you stick!” - -Then she looked at her feet. “Gee, Grace,” she called to the pink girl, -“I’m soaked up to my knees!” - -“I was soaked up to my neck two days ago,” Peanut laughed. “You’ll dry. -Anyhow, we can build a fire when we get out, and you can take off your -wet things, and sit with your little pink tootsies to the blaze.” - -Alice, with a laugh, gave him a slap on the cheek. - -“Why, Alice!” exclaimed the pink girl, shocked. - -“Oh, he’s a fresh one, he needs it,” said Alice, and turned with a -shriek of delight to see the first face of the following party emerge -through the hole. It was “Mamma”! Her face was flushed with exertion, -and wore a look of agonized fright. Her hair was disarranged, and -hanging into her eyes. From behind her issued voices, “Hurry up, Ma, -you’re blocking the passage!” - -“Come here, you laughing monkey, and help your mother down!” she cried -to Alice. “How do you suppose I can get out of this hole head first?” - -But Alice was too doubled up with mirth to move. Art and Peanut sprang -to her relief. They took her by the shoulders, one on each side, and -pulled her out, supporting her till she could get her feet down on the -ground. Then they hid on either side of the tunnel mouth, and as fast -as a head appeared, they grabbed the shoulders behind it, without a -word of warning, and pulled the surprised person forth. The only one -who fooled them was the guide. He came feet foremost! - -There was nearly a mile of this curious, underground path, amid caves -and tumbled boulders, now close beside the sunken river, now above it. -Some of the caves were very cold. But suddenly they saw full daylight -ahead, and they stepped out of the last cave upon a ledge of rock, -over which the river dashed in a pretty waterfall, and went flowing -away down the hill through the woods, on a perfectly sane and normal -above-ground bed. - -“Well, that is quite an experience!” said Papa, wiping his forehead. - -Mamma looked at her soiled overalls, tried to fix up her hair, and then -fanned herself with the palm of her hand. - -“Well, I guess the young folks enjoyed it more than I did!” she panted. -Then she spied Alice’s feet. “Alice!” she cried. “Your feet!” - -“What’s the matter with my feet?” said Alice. - -“You’ll get your death of cold!” - -“Nonsense, my dear,” said Papa. - -“Nonsense or not, she’s got to dry them,” the mother said. “We must go -right back to that store.” - -“I have a better idea, if you’ll excuse me, Mrs. Green,” said Rob (he -and the oldest of the girls had evidently been exchanging names). -“We’ll build a fire here by the river, and all have lunch together. -While she’s drying her stockings, we Scouts will take back the -overalls, and bring down all your grub and our packs, and then we can -all walk back to North Woodstock together after lunch.” - -“A very good idea, too,” exclaimed Papa Green. - -“Well, I’m willing,” said the mother. “I don’t much want to take that -walk back, that’s a fact.” - -“Fire, boys!” cried Peanut, starting to scramble down beside the falls. - -“Hold on!” Frank cried. “Nobody stirs from this spot till I get a -picture.” - -“Oh,” squealed the girls. “You shan’t take our picture in these!” - -“Yes, I shall! Peanut, you guard the path!” - -“Right-o,” said Peanut. “No lady shall pass save over my dead body!” - -Frank unslung his camera from the case, and made everybody get in a -group, with the girls in front. They all tried to sit down, to hide the -overalls, but Rob and Lou and Art kept pulling them up. Every time -they were up, Frank snapped a picture. - -“Now I’ve got you all!” he laughed. - -“What? You were taking us all the time? Oh, you mean thing!” cried -Alice. “Let’s break the camera, girls!” - -She started for Frank, but he disappeared over the ledge, with a hoot. - -The Scouts had left their hatchets behind, but they made a fire pit, -and kindled a good fire with dead stuff, broken by hand. Peanut rigged -up a stick rack beside it for Alice to hang her stockings over. -Meanwhile, off in the bushes, they could hear the girls and women -laughing, as they got out of the overalls. They came back looking like -normal girls again, only their skirts were rather crumpled. - -The Scouts took the overalls, and, with the guide and Mr. Rogers, -turned toward the road, which led back to the store. Peanut lingered a -bit in the rear. - -“Toast your tootsies nice and warm,” he whispered to Alice, and ducked -quickly away from the swing she aimed at him. - -“Alice!” he heard Art’s girl saying, “I wish you wouldn’t be such a -tomboy.” - -Peanut grinned to himself, and caught up with the rest. - -“Some skirts, those, eh, Art?” he said, giving Art a dig in the ribs. - -Art turned red, and punched back for answer. - -“What was it Art was saying back in Beaver Meadow about wishing there -weren’t any girls in the world?” asked Rob. - -“Oh, they’re all right, if they wear _pink_,” said Peanut. - -“You all make me sick,” Art retorted. “Gee, Peanut, you got your face -slapped, all right!” - -“Sure I did,” said Peanut. “That’s a mark of affection. I made a hit -with her, you see.” - -“That’s a rotten joke,” said Art. - -“All right. Here’s another. You go off and eat _your_ lunch by -yourself, if you don’t like girls. The rest of us’ll have ours with the -crowd. We’ll let him, won’t we, fellers?” - -Art only grunted, and made no answer to the laughter of the rest. - -“All of which goes to show, Art,” remarked Mr. Rogers, who had been -listening, “that it’s not safe to generalize about women. A man’s -always bound to meet one who’ll upset all his ideas.” - -“Or slap his face,” said Art, with a poke at Peanut. - -At the little store, the boys paid the guide for their share in the -expedition, and shouldered both their own loads and the lunch baskets -the other party had brought with them, and left in the store. Then they -hurried back down the road. - -Peanut ran on ahead before they got to the camp site, and slipping as -quietly as he could through the trees and bushes, came suddenly out -into the open space where the fire was. The girls were all sitting in -the shade, except Alice. She was wading barefoot in the brook, while -her stockings and shoes hung by the fire. - -Peanut stood there grinning a second before anybody saw him, and then -Alice spied him and squealed. - -“Oh, you little beast!” she said, jumping out of the water, and -grabbing up a tin folding cup, which her father had evidently carried -in his pocket. She filled this with water, and ran at Peanut, barefoot, -appearing not to mind the rough ground at all. Peanut was so loaded -down with his blanket and pack and two lunch baskets that he was in no -condition to escape. He tried to run, but his blanket roll caught in -a bush, and before he could yank it free he felt the whole cupful of -water hit his face, and go running down his neck. - -“Alice!” called Mrs. Green. “_Alice!_ Come right back here! Aren’t you -ashamed!” - -“Not a bit,” said Alice. “He’s perfectly horrid, coming sneaking up -that way on purpose!” - -“Go put on your shoes and stockings and then apologize!” said her -mother, sternly. - -“Ho, that’s all right,” said Peanut. “I was awful hot. The water feels -good. I’d like some more.” - -“You would, would you?” said Alice, making as if she were going to the -stream again. - -“Only give me time to get my mouth open and catch it,” Peanut laughed. - -“Alice!” said her mother, again, “I told you to put your shoes and -stockings on.” - -“They’re not dry yet,” said the girl, feeling of them. - -“Oh, dear, what can you do? The rest will be here in a moment!” -exclaimed her sister, the girl in pink. - -“I have it!” Peanut said. He slung off his pack, and produced his pair -of extra socks. They were heavy and long, being made to wear with -high boots. Alice snatched them from him with a laugh, and, turning -her back, sat down to put them on. Then she got up and turned around. -Everybody laughed. The toes were too long, and flapped a bit when she -walked. Her feet looked huge, for a girl. - -“I hope I wear a big hole in ’em,” she was saying, as the rest of the -Scouts came up. - -But she wasn’t half so mad at Peanut as she had pretended, evidently, -for while Art and Lou were taking all the responsibility of cooking the -lunch and making the coffee, the two of them walked off together up the -stream to the falls, Alice giving little “Ouches!” every minute or two -as her shoeless feet stepped on a root or a hard pebble, and they had -to be called back by the rest when lunch was ready. - -It was certainly a merry meal. The girls made birch bark plates, and -they had paper napkins in their baskets, and plenty of doughnuts to -go with the coffee. Art used the last of the flour and condensed milk -for flapjacks, cooking busily while the rest ate, and looking very -happy when the girl in pink said, “It’s too bad. _You_ aren’t getting -anything at all.” - -“He don’t mind,” said Peanut. “He’d rather cook than eat anything, -especially for girls.” - -“Does he like girls?” asked Alice, who was seated on the ground, -with her feet sticking out, so she could wiggle the dangling toes of -Peanut’s socks, which made everybody laugh. - -“Does he like girls! You should have heard what he said about ’em this -morning!” Peanut replied. - -“Shut up--or when I get you to-night----” Art half whispered this at -Peanut. - -“Oh, tell me, tell me!” cried Alice. - -“I’ll whisper it,” said Peanut. - -He whispered in her ear, and she burst out laughing. Her sister, in -pink, was trying hard to hear, but she couldn’t. - -“No, I’ll _never_ tell _Grace_,” said Alice, wriggling her toes with -delight. “Oh, it’s a lovely story, Grace!” - -Grace moved away to the other side of the circle, with a pout, and she -and Art sat together and finished their lunch. - -After lunch the girls insisted on clearing the dishes. “It is a -woman’s place to do the dishes!” they said, and when the dishes were -done everybody sat down under the trees, and the Scouts, at Lou’s -suggestion, got out their knives, and carved their staffs. - -First, they cut their initials, and then in Roman numerals, the -mileage for the day before. “Let’s see--nineteen miles to the top -of Moosilauke, one mile down the road and back, a mile maybe to -camp--twenty-one miles,” said Peanut, “that’s two XX’s and a I.” - -When he had finished, Alice took the staff out of his hand. - -“You’ve forgotten something,” she said. - -“What?” asked Peanut. - -“_My_ initials, silly,” she answered. “If you don’t put them on, how -will you remember me?” - -“By a sore face and a wet shirt,” Peanut replied. - -“Now, don’t be a goose. Put my initials on,” the girl laughed--“A. G.” - -“It’s not N. G. anyhow,” said Peanut. He carefully cut her initials -beside his own, at the top of the staff, and of course Alice showed it -to her sister and the other girls, and the rest of the Scouts had to -do the same thing. By the time it was done, Mr. Green was fast asleep, -Mrs. Green was nodding, and Mr. Rogers was looking at his watch. - -“I’m afraid it’s time this little midsummer day’s dream was ended,” he -smiled. “We’ve got some way to go yet.” - -“Wake up Papa, then,” said Alice. “Here are your old socks. Oh, dear, -there’s no hole in ’em, either. I _tried_, though.” - -She pulled off the socks, tossed them to Peanut, and went gingerly on -her bare feet to the fire, where her own shoes and stockings had quite -dried. In a moment, they were on. She did everything quickly. She -grabbed a blade of grass, then, and tickled her father’s nose. He put -up his hand and brushed his face, still sleeping. It was the laughter -and his wife’s voice crying, “Alice! Behave yourself!” which really -woke him up. - -The five miles to North Woodstock were quickly made--rather too -quickly, perhaps, to please the Scouts. They were having a good time. -They stopped for a few minutes only to look at Agassiz Basin, where -Lost River makes some lovely bathing pools on the rocky ledges. The -Greens, of course, invited them into their hotel for supper, but Mr. -Rogers shook his head. - -“No,” said he, “we’ve got to get along up the Notch yet, and be ready -for the climb over Liberty and Lafayette to-morrow. I’m afraid we’ve -got to be on our way.” - -The girls gathered around Frank. One of them wrote an address on a -card, and gave it to him. “Now, promise,” they said, “you’ve got to -send us all one of those horrid pictures.” - -“If they’re so horrid, I shouldn’t think you’d want ’em,” said Frank. - -“Well, you send ’em just the same,” they answered. - -Everybody shook hands all around, and Alice, as she released Peanut’s -hand, managed to slap his face lightly, and ran laughing up the steps. -The Scouts tramped away into the village, while the girls waved their -handkerchiefs from the porch. - -“Yes, Art,” Peanut said, “girls _are_ a pesky nuisance. They look so -ugly in pink dresses.” - -“Oh, shut up on that!” Art cried. “You’ve got a ducking coming to you -in the next brook. Anyhow, _mine_ wasn’t a face-slapping tomboy!” - -“No, she was just _too_ sweet,” laughed Peanut, as he dodged Art’s -swing at his head. - -At the village they stocked up on provisions--bacon, condensed milk, -tea and coffee, flour and sweet chocolate--for their provisions were -well used up, and soon they were plodding up the road, northward, and -entering the Franconia Notch. - -The road was quite unlike that down which they had tramped two days -before, on the west side of Kinsman. It was macadamized and full of -motors. - -“This is one of the through highways from the south to the northern -side of the mountains,” said the Scout Master. “I fear we’ve hit it at -about the worst time of day, too, because we’re only twelve miles from -the Profile House, which is the end of the day’s run for many cars. -Most of ’em seem to be going in that direction.” - -“I should think they were,” said Rob. “My blanket is covered with dust -already.” - -“Gosh, my _lungs_ are covered with dust,” said Peanut. “How far have we -got to go, dodging these things?” - -“Only six miles,” the Scout Master answered. “I guess we can stand it -that long.” - -It was getting on toward dark in the Notch (where the sun seems to set -much earlier than outside, because of the high western wall) when they -reached the Flume House. - -“It’s too dark to go up into the Flume to camp to-night,” Mr. Rogers -declared. “Besides, I don’t know just where the path up Liberty starts, -and we’d better wait for daylight to ask. We’ll go up the road a few -rods, and camp by some brook close to the road. Then in the morning we -can see the Flume and the Basin and all the sights.” - -The motors had ceased going by now, and the road was empty. They very -soon came to a good brook, and a few paces off the road put them into -the seclusion of the woods. Here they camped, and had their supper. The -day had been a comparatively light one--four miles down Moosilauke, six -through Lost River and to North Woodstock, and six to camp--sixteen in -all, mostly down-hill. - -“And don’t forget the two miles at lunch to the store and back for our -packs,” said Frank. - -“An even eighteen, then,” said Rob. “Gee, that’s not very good.” - -“Women--they’re to blame for everything, ain’t they, Art?” said Peanut. - -Art got up and made for his tormentor, but Peanut was too quick for -him. He was away into the rough, dark woods, and Art gave up the chase. -It wasn’t long after, however, in spite of the fact that they had -walked only eighteen miles, when the camp was asleep. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -A STRANGE ADVENTURE IN THE NIGHT - - -It seemed to Peanut that he had hardly been asleep at all, when he was -awakened by the sound of a motor. He listened, cross at being roused, -for the noise to die away up or down the road, but it didn’t. Instead -of that, he plainly heard the power shut off and the engine come to -rest, close to the camp--right in the road opposite the camp, in fact. -He sat up, rather startled. Then he heard voices, men’s voices. They -were talking in low tones, which struck him as strange, because out -here in the woods there was no reason why they should be afraid of -waking people up. He wondered for a second if they could have designs -on the camp, but glancing at the camp-fire, he saw that it had gone -entirely out, so that nobody could have seen the camp from the road. As -he sat there in the dark, straining his ears, Art woke up, as you often -will when you are sleeping close to somebody else who has waked. - -“What is it?” Art said. - -“Sh!” cautioned Peanut. He whispered softly what had roused him. - -“Let’s do some scouting,” said Art. - -They put on their shoes quietly, without waking any of the others. Art -tried to see his watch, but couldn’t. “Never mind,” he whispered, and -the two boys crawled softly out of camp. It was easy to get across the -brook, because the brook itself made so much babbling over its stones -that the sound of footsteps could not be heard. Once across, they were -close to the road, in some bushes about three feet lower than the road -level. They could see little, in the starlight, but they could make out -the shadowy form of a motor, and two men sitting in it. The head lights -and the red tail light were all shut off! - -“That’s funny,” Art whispered. “Gee, it’s against the law, too.” - -The boys listened. The men were talking in low tones. Their voices were -rough, and they swore about every second word. - -“We’ll start in fifteen minutes,” one of them was saying. “Those swells -’round the Profile House hit the hay late. Won’t do to get there too -soon. It’s almost the last house down this way--lucky for us. We can -turn the car at the wide place in the road where guys stop to see the -Stone Face, and be all ready for a quick getaway.” - -“How do you know they ain’t got a strong arm guy guardin’ the sparkle?” -asked the other man. - -“They ain’t, I tell yer,” said the first. “Ain’t me friend Jim got a -stable job at the Profile just to tip us off? Ain’t we got to split -with him? Guess they didn’t reckon there’d be any need to watch the -weddin’ swag, way up here in these God forsaken hills. Ha! They forgot -that automobiles has changed things!” - -“They are going to rob somebody’s house--at the Profile,” Art -whispered, pulling Peanut back toward the brook. “Gee, how can we stop -’em?” - -“Let’s rouse the camp, and pinch ’em right now,” said Peanut. - -“And get shot full of holes in the dark, and they get away in their -car? Not much!” - -“They’d have to crank it, and we could chop up the tires with our -hatchets.” - -“Probably got a self starter, and what would they do to us while we -were chopping? They’d have time to get away from us and do the job -before we could hike six miles to the Profile and give the alarm. No, -sir, we’ve got to get there somehow as soon as they do!” - -“We could sneak a ride on the trunk rack behind the machine!” whispered -Peanut. - -“If it’s got one--quick--hatchets!” - -The two Scouts slipped back into camp. Art grabbed up his hatchet, -which he always kept beside his pillow, and slipped it in his belt. -Peanut put on his. Then Art leaned down beside Rob, shook him gently, -with one hand over his mouth, and whispered in his ear. - -“Don’t speak!” he said. “Peanut and I are going up the road to the -Profile House. Follow us in the morning. Cut out the climb. We’ll -explain later. We’ve _got_ to go.” - -“Why--what----” said the astonished Rob. - -“Sh! Don’t ask now. Robbers. We’ve got to give warning.” - -“Let me go, too,” Rob whispered, trying to rise. - -Art pushed him down. “We’ve got to hook on behind an auto. There’d not -be room. You stay here, and keep the camp quiet.” - -Rob lay back, a little too sleepy quite to realize what he was letting -the two younger Scouts in for, and they slipped out of camp again. This -time they went down the brook, walking in the water so they would make -no sound of breaking bushes, and came out into the road two rods below -the motor. Then they stole on tiptoe, hardly daring to breathe, close -up behind. As the rear lamp was not lighted, they felt softly with -their hands to see if there was anything to ride on. Luckily, there was -a trunk rack--empty! Straps across it made a rough kind of seat, just -large enough to hold them. - -“We can’t get on yet--not till they start,” whispered Art. “It would -shake the springs.” - -The men were still talking, and the boys crouched behind the car, in -silence, waiting for them to start. It seemed to Peanut as if his heart -beats must be heard, they were so loud in his breast. - -Suddenly they heard a rustle and crack in the bushes almost beside them. - -“What’s that?” said one of the men, sharply. - -“Oh, a rabbit, or something,” the other replied. “There ain’t a house -anywhere ’round here. Don’t be a goat.” - -“It’s Rob. He’ll spoil everything,” whispered Art, dropping on his -hands and knees, and literally crawling out from behind the motor to -the roadside bushes where the noise came from. - -The noise, of course, had ceased when the men spoke. Peanut could no -longer see Art, in the shadow of the bushes, but his excited ear could -hear the faint sound of a whisper. He wondered why the burglars didn’t -hear it, also, but they were talking again, oblivious. - -A minute later Art returned, and before he could whisper, they heard -one of the robbers strike a match. Evidently he looked at the time, for -he said, “One o’clock. Let her go.” - -There was the click of a self starter, and the engine began to purr. A -loud cough came from the exhaust at Peanut’s feet, and made him jump. -The car began to throb. As it started, both boys swung as lightly as -they could up on the trunk rack, their legs dangling out behind, and -the motor moved up the road slowly. Having no lights on, the burglars -couldn’t drive rapidly. Once they ran off the side into some bushes, -and had to reverse. - -They swore, and evidently turned on the minor head lights, for after -that the car went faster and kept the road. The dust sucked up into the -boys’ faces. - -“I gotter sneeze,” whispered Peanut. - -“Quick, tie your handkerchief over your nose and mouth,” Art whispered -back. - -It was a ticklish job letting go both hands to tie on the -handkerchiefs, but they managed to do it without falling off, and the -sneezes were averted. The sharp edge of the rack hurt their legs. The -dust almost choked them, even through their handkerchiefs. But they -clung fast, and for fifteen or twenty minutes--it seemed hours--they -rode in this uncomfortable position rapidly through the dark. It was -very dark indeed, for most of the way was through woods, and they could -scarcely see the stars. - -Presently the machine stopped. Art yanked off his handkerchief. “They -are going to turn it here. Quick, into the bushes when they back up!” - -The driver ran the car to the right, on what appeared like a very wide -place in the road, and then reversed. As she slowly backed toward the -edge, the boys waited till their feet were almost in the bushes, and -then they dropped. While the car moved forward again, they wriggled -hastily on their stomachs in among the dusty bushes, and lay there, not -daring even to whisper, while the driver again reversed, and brought -his car around facing back down the road up which they had just come. -The two men were now close to the Scouts. They stopped the engine, and -got out. One of them got out on the side toward the boys. Peanut could -almost have stretched forth his hand and touched the burglar’s foot. - -But he stepped away, unconscious, and took something out of the tonneau -of the car. - -“Got the sacks?” the other asked. - -“O. K.,” said the first. - -The two men moved up the road on foot, leaving the car behind, beside -the road. Art held Peanut down till they were so far away that their -footsteps were not audible. Then he sprang up. - -“Quick!” he whispered, “take your hatchet and cut the tires. Don’t chop -and make a noise--draw the edge over.” - -“They’ll explode,” said Peanut. - -“That’s so. Wait--find the valves, and let the air out!” - -The two boys worked rapidly, with matches. They let the air out of each -tire, and then cut the rubber through, to make doubly sure. - -“Wish I knew more about cars,” Art said. “There must be some way to put -the engine on the blink.” - -Peanut lifted the hood. “Hold a match--not too close!” he said. -“Here--here’s a wire. That’ll disconnect the battery, or something.” - -He yanked the wire out of its connection. - -“Good,” Art exclaimed. “Now, up the road after ’em!” - -The two boys stood directly under the Great Stone Face, one of the -sights of the White Mountains which they had come three hundred miles -to see--but they never knew it, nor thought about it. They began to run -up the road, in the dark, as fast as they could go. - -Before long, however, they pulled down to a walk. - -“Those burglars will reconnoitre first, before they try to break in,” -Art whispered. “Go easy, now. They said it was almost the last house -this way.” - -A moment later, the Scouts came out into an open space. At the farther -end, they could see the night lamps in the windows of what looked like -a hotel. - -“Must be the Profile House,” said Peanut. - -To the left they could see other houses, a row of them, close together, -and in the trees, directly at their left, they could distinguish the -outline of what seemed to be the last house of all. They stole toward -it, on tiptoe, along a path in front. It was quiet. There was not -a sound in the world. The whole settlement seemed asleep. But Art -suddenly put his hand on Peanut’s shoulder, and they dropped down -together on the ground. The two men were sneaking from behind this -house toward the next one. Art had seen their figures, as they passed a -dimly lighted window of the second house. A second later, and the boys -heard a faint, curious sound. - -“I know it!” Peanut whispered. “It’s a glass cutter. Heard it at the -painter’s shop.” - -They waited breathlessly, and heard a window catch sprung, and a window -opened. - -“They’re climbing in!” said Art. “Quick, now, to rouse the house!” - -He sprang up, Peanut after him, and emitted a Comanche yell, and then -began shouting at the top of his lungs, “Robbers! Robbers!” - -“Robbers! Robbers!” yelled Peanut. - -The two of them sprang up the steps of the house and began to pound the -door with their fists, crying, “Robbers, robbers!” all the while, as -loud as they could. - -The response was startlingly sudden, and came from all directions at -once. The first thing was a switching on of lights in the house itself, -in the upper rooms. Then the hall light came on. A second later, the -boys saw the two burglars come rushing around the corner to the path, -and make hot footed by the nearest way, which was the path, for the -road and their auto. Art, so excited he hardly knew what he was doing, -jumped off the veranda and started to follow, yelling “Stop!” But -they kept on running. Across the clearing from the Profile House came -the sounds of running feet, as two watchmen raced to the scene. In the -other houses lights came on, heads appeared in windows, the front door -of the house where the boys were pounding was thrown open, and two men -appeared there in pajamas and dressing gowns. Behind them the boys had -a glimpse of frightened women in nightgowns, and servants in night -clothes, also. - -“What’s the matter, what’s the matter?” the men exclaimed. - -“Two burglars--got in your house--side window--they’ve run down the -road to their auto--we punctured the tires----” Peanut gasped out. - -“We can catch ’em if we hurry,” cried Art. - -The watchmen were now on the scene. - -“After ’em, then, boys!” they shouted. “Show us the way!” - -Two or three other men, half dressed, had now appeared on the scene, -the boys never knew from where. They were too excited. Peanut and Art -dashed down the path, the rest following, and led the way toward the -stalled motor. - -“They can’t use the car,” Peanut panted back over his shoulder. -“They’ll have to beat it on foot!” - -The pursuing party was going rapidly, but Peanut was running faster -than the rest. He was now fifty yards ahead. He suddenly heard the -engine of the motor start. - -“They’ve got that wire back!” he thought. “But they can’t go far on -flat tires.” - -He yelled back at the rest to hurry, and at the sound of the yell, he -heard the car start down the road. It was gone when the rest came into -the open space! - -“We hacked the tires to ribbons,” Art panted. “They’re on bare rims.” - -“Go back to the house, Tom, quick,” said one of the watchmen. “Get the -Flume House by ’phone, and have ’em put a guard across the road there, -to stop every car and every person that comes down. We’ll get a car -out, and follow ’em.” - -Everybody now ran up the road again, meeting more half-dressed men on -the way. - -“Where on earth did you kids come from, anyway?” asked somebody for the -first time. - -“We were camping down near the road by the Flume,” said Art, “and we -heard ’em stop their car--woke us up----” - -“And I heard ’em planning this job,” said Peanut, while Art got his -breath. - -“He crawled out and heard ’em,” Art went on, “and woke me, and we -sneaked onto the trunk rack behind, and rode up here to give the alarm.” - -“Say, you’re some kids,” the watchman commented. “Cut their -tires--that’s a good one! They were after the Goodwin wedding presents. -Told Mr. Goodwin he ought to have a detective.” - -“Here he is now,” said somebody. - -Another man had appeared. “No, they didn’t have time to take a thing,” -he was saying, “so far as we can see. Have you got ’em? Who was it -warned us?” - -The boys were pointed out to him. “Thank you both,” he said. “I’ll -thank you more in the morning. You want a motor to chase ’em in? Get -mine out, quick!” - -Three minutes later, four motors were brought from the garages, and -more than a dozen of the men who were gathered in the road piled into -them. Peanut and Art rode in the first car, with two of the watchmen. -Art had his hatchet in his hand, and the watchmen had their revolvers -ready, too. They went down the road at high speed, the search-lights -throwing the road and the bordering trees into brilliant white relief -ahead, amid the surrounding gloom. The occupants of the car sat with -their eyes glued on the end of the white shaft of light. - -“Some rims on that car!” said the driver. He slowed down. “See, there -are the tracks. They must have been traveling, too. How many of ’em -were there, did you say?” - -“Two,” said Art. - -“Light load. Maybe they got to the Flume House before a rim broke.” - -He put on speed again, and they flashed into a level stretch. Art and -Peanut both exclaimed at once, “Look--there’s Rob!” - -Sure enough, standing beside the road, was Rob, plainly to be seen in -the glare of the powerful search lamps. The driver put on brakes, and -stopped. Rob jumped into the car. - -“A car just went by--two minutes ago--no, less--a minute. I couldn’t -sleep again, worrying about you kids. It was those same men, Art. Heard -’em swear.” - -The pursuing car once more leaped forward. Looking back, Peanut saw the -lamps of the motor next behind them. The driver put on speed now with a -vengeance. It seemed hardly a second before ahead of them they heard a -shout, and they emerged from the woods into the clearing by the Flume -House, and their lamps struck full upon a dramatic picture. - -There, in front, was the car they were chasing. Across the road was -strung a heavy rope with a red lantern swung from it, and close to the -car, on either side, stood two men, with gleaming revolvers pointed -at the two burglars on the seat. The revolver barrels flashed in the -glare of the search-light. Art and Peanut and the rest in the pursuing -car sprang to the ground and ran forward. The two burglars offered -no resistance. What was the use? They were looking into four pistol -barrels now! Ropes were quickly brought, and their hands tied. The -other three pursuing cars came up, the excitement roused a number of -guests in the hotel, and Art and Peanut found themselves in the midst -of a throng as the captives were being led to the concrete garage to be -locked up. Everybody wanted to know all about it, and the boys had to -repeat their story a dozen times. - -Finally Mr. Goodwin and a young man who seemed to be his son, and who -had been one of those to open the door, got hold of them. - -“You boys have saved us many thousands of dollars,” the father said. -“We don’t quite know how to thank you. Of course, I know something -about Scouts, and I won’t offer you money, because you wouldn’t take -it.” - -“Oh, no, sir,” said Art. - -“Of course not. But I’ve got a motor you can have to go where you -please in to-morrow, or next day, or any time, and I own a whole fish -pond in the woods back here, with a cabin on it where you can camp, -and my wife and daughter will want to thank you. You must give me your -names, so my other daughter, who was married this morning, and whose -presents you saved, can write to you.” - -Art and Peanut both stammered, rather uncomfortable. - -“Why, that’s all right, sir,” Art finally said. “We just did what -seemed right--had to do something quick. We’re camped just up the road, -with a party. We’re going over Liberty and Lafayette to-morrow, and -then on to Washington. We’re much obliged, but I guess there’s nothing -we could use. You see, we’re on a schedule.” - -“Take me back to your camp,” said Mr. Goodwin, with a smile toward his -son. - -“Gosh, I don’t know whether we can ever find it in the dark!” cried -Peanut. - -They got into Mr. Goodwin’s car, with Rob. - -“Let me ride in front,” said Rob, “and go slow. There will be wheel -tracks where the car turned in to pick me up just now.” - -“Well, that’s an idea!” said Mr. Goodwin. “You boys seem to be ready -for anything.” - -“Be prepared--that’s our motto,” Peanut replied, proudly. - -The car moved slowly back up the road, and Rob and the driver kept -their eyes open. Soon Rob signaled to stop. The driver took a pocket -electric flash lamp from under the seat, and handed it to Rob, who led -the way through the bushes, and across the brook. He flashed it up and -down the wall of bushes and trees, and suddenly, out of the darkness, -came a sleepy grunt, and a startled, “Hi, what’s that? Who’s there?” - -“Wake up, Frank, and hear the birdies sing,” cried Peanut. - -Frank, Lou and Mr. Rogers sat up, rubbing their eyes, as the others -came into camp. Art lit the camp lantern, and by its light the story of -the night’s adventure was hastily told. - -“Well, well!” exclaimed Mr. Rogers. “I _am_ a bad Scout Master! To -think I slept right through everything!” - -“I think you are a pretty good one, to develop such Scouts as these,” -said Mr. Goodwin. - -“Oh, rats!” exclaimed Frank, “to think I missed it all!” - -“Me, too,” said Lou. - -“They didn’t let me in on much,” Rob laughed. - -“Why didn’t you wake the rest of us?” Lou demanded of Peanut. - -“The more awake, the more noise,” said Peanut. “Rob almost gummed the -game. Would have if the burglars hadn’t thought he was a rabbit.” - -“Well, boys,” Mr. Goodwin put in, “you want to be going back to sleep.” -He looked at his watch, and added, “My, my! it’s three o’clock. The sun -will be up in less than two hours! Now, I want you all to come to my -house to dinner to-morrow night. We’ve got to celebrate, and talk this -adventure over. You can get down Lafayette by seven, can’t you? I’m -sure you can. Seven o’clock, then!” - -“But we haven’t got any joy rags,” Peanut protested. - -Mr. Goodwin laughed. “You’ll have appetites--that’s all I ask!” - -He spoke a few words quietly to the Scout Master and then went back to -his car. Peanut and Art kicked off their shoes again, and lay down with -the rest, to sleep. But they were too excited to sleep. They lay side -by side and conversed in whispers of the night’s excitement, while the -Scout Master and Rob were also whispering. Once they heard Rob say, -“But it was the only way to save the property, and if I’d waked you all -up, what good would it have done? We couldn’t get to the Profile on -foot till long after the trouble was over. I just had to trust ’em. It -seemed to me a job Scouts ought to tackle, even if it was dangerous.” - -“I guess you’re right,” they heard Mr. Rogers answer. “But I hope the -next time we can all be in on the adventure. I don’t like to have my -party split up when there’s danger.” - -“Good old Mr. Rogers!” whispered Peanut. “Guess we gave him a scare.” - -“There’s one thing we forgot,” said Art, suddenly. “They said they had -a pal--Jim, wasn’t it?--employed in the Profile stables. We ought to -tip off the Profile House first thing in the morning.” - -“Well, you can’t remember everything, when you’re chasing burglars,” -said Peanut, as he rubbed his dust-filled eyes. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -OVER THE LAFAYETTE RIDGE, WITH A DINNER PARTY AT THE END - - -The two adventurers must have dropped off to sleep toward daylight, for -they were both conscious of being shaken and told to get up. - -Peanut rubbed his eyes. “Gee, I dreamed one of those burglars had -grabbed me and was dragging me into Lost River,” he said. - -“I suppose if I’d slapped your face you’d have dreamed of Alice Green,” -Lou laughed. “Come on, get up and wash yourself. Golly, but you’re -dirty!” - -Peanut and Art were certainly dirty. They had gone on their expedition -the night before without hats, and their hair was full of dust, their -faces smeared with it, and their hands almost black from clinging to -the dusty trunk rack behind the motor. They both got up, and took off -their clothes, shaking clouds of dust out of them. Then they went down -to the brook, shivering in the chill morning air (it was full daylight, -but the sun was still hidden behind the high eastern wall of Liberty) -and washed themselves. When they returned to camp, they found breakfast -waiting. - -“Well, well, it pays to be a hero,” said Peanut. “Somebody else does -the work for you, then.” - -“Don’t worry, it won’t happen often, Mr. Modesty,” said Frank. “We were -too hungry to wait, that’s all.” - -After breakfast they doused their fire, packed up, and went down the -road to the Flume House. It was still so early that none of the guests -in the old hotel were astir, though servants were about, sweeping the -verandas. - -Peanut, Art and Rob showed where the rope had been stretched across -the road, with a red lantern on it, to stop the escaping motor, and -then led the way to the garage. The two watchmen, pistols in hand, were -sitting before the door. - -“Hello, boys!” the head watchman said. “We still got ’em in there, -in the corner room. Sheriff’s coming over from Littleton for ’em as -soon as he can get here. You’d better not look at ’em--might make ’em -unhappy,” he added to Peanut, who was trying to look in the high window. - -Peanut laughed. “We did rather gum their game, didn’t we?” - -“You sure did. Here, stand on this chair.” - -The boys all took a turn looking in the window. What they saw was two -men evidently asleep on a blanket on the floor. - -“Don’t seem to trouble ’em much,” said Peanut. “Where’s their car?” - -One of the watchmen led the way into the garage, and showed them the -car, which had come six miles on the rims. - -“Stolen, of course,” he said. “It’s a five thousand dollar car, too. -Somebody else will thank you, beside Mr. Goodwin. Oh, say, I nearly -forgot. The sheriff says to hold you boys till he comes, because you’ve -got to give evidence.” - -“Oh, no!” they all exclaimed. “We’ve got to get up Lafayette!” - -“Tell the sheriff we’ll be at Mr. Goodwin’s at seven this evening, and -he can take the boys’ affidavits then,” said Mr. Rogers. - -“Well, I dunno. He told me particular to keep ’em.” - -“You can’t keep ’em if they want to go, you know, without a warrant,” -Mr. Rogers smiled. “Here, keep their names and addresses for him, and -tell him, Mr. Goodwin’s this evening.” - -“Well, you got a fine day for the mountain,” the watchman said. “Go see -the Pool and the Flume first, and then just keep right up the head of -the Flume. You’ll hit the path.” - -“How long will it take us to make Lafayette?” asked Rob. - -“Six hours, I guess,” he answered. - -“Easy,” said they. “Goodbye.” - -They had turned away before Art and Peanut remembered to tip off the -watchman about the third thief, Jim, at the Profile stables. Then they -started once more. - -The party now crossed the road, and entered a path through the woods, -marked “The Pool.” After a short walk through dense woods, they -descended rapidly through a break in a cliff wall, for nearly a hundred -and fifty feet, and stood beside the strangest little lake they had -ever beheld. It was about a hundred and fifty feet across, more or -less circular in shape, and surrounded by high cliffs which made it -seem like a pond at the bottom of a crater. The water, which was -astonishingly clear, came into it at the upper end in the form of a -cascade, and escaped not far from the boys through a fissure, or tiny -cañon, in the rocks. - -“My, I’d like to swim in that! What a place to dive in!” cried Art. -“How deep is it?” - -“About fifty feet, I believe,” said the Scout Master. - -“Looks a thousand,” said Peanut. “Come on, let’s all have one dive.” - -Rob felt of the water. “One would be about all you’d want,” he said. -“Besides, we haven’t time.” - -The Scouts left the Pool reluctantly, climbed back up the cliff, -and found the path to the Flume. This Flume, they soon discovered, -resembled almost exactly the flume on Kinsman, save that the walls -were higher and stood farther apart, and it was also longer. But the -path to it was much more traveled, and there was a board walk built -up through it beside the brook, so that it did not seem so wild nor -impressive as the smaller flume on Kinsman. They soon passed through -it, found the path up Liberty, and began to climb. - -As on all the White Mountains, the first part of the climb led through -woods, and no views were to be had, neither of the summit ahead nor the -valley behind. It was a steep path, too, much steeper than the Benton -Trail up Moosilauke, though not so steep as the Beaver Brook Trail -down which they had tumbled the day before. At first everybody was -chattering gaily, and Peanut and Art were telling over again all their -experiences of the night before. But gradually, as the sun mounted, as -the trail grew still steeper and rockier, as their packs and blankets -got heavier and hotter, conversation died out. Everybody was panting. -Rob, who was pacemaker for the morning, would plod away, and then set -his pack down to rest. The others rested when he did, and no oftener. -Climbing began to be mechanical. Art consulted his watch and his -pedometer. - -“That Appalachian guide book isn’t far from right,” he admitted to Mr. -Rogers. “We aren’t making much over a mile an hour.” - -“That’s enough, in this heat,” the Scout Master replied. “Better fill -canteens at the next spring, Rob,” he called ahead. “I don’t know -whether we’ll get any more water to Lafayette. I’ve forgotten this -trail.” - -At the next spring they all took a long drink and a long rest. Shortly -after, they emerged above timber, and found themselves to the northwest -of the peak of Liberty, and almost at its base, while ahead of them the -path pointed up the rocky ledges toward Haystack. With full canteens to -add to their load, they plodded on. - -Now they could see below them, far down into the Notch, and across the -Notch they could see the steep side of Kinsman going up, and the peak -where they had unfurled the flag on the Fourth of July. They began -to realize for the first time, too, how difficult it could become in -a cloud to keep the path, for where the trail led over bare rocks it -was almost indistinguishable under foot, and you had to look ahead to -find a pile of stones, or a place where it wound through the mountain -cranberries or other Alpine plants, to find it. The sun was very hot on -their backs, and all of them, under the blankets and knapsacks, were -perspiring freely. - -“I’m wringing wet,” said Peanut. “Wish we had the Pool right here. -Would I go in? Hm----” - -[Illustration: Echo Lake, Franconia Notch, and Mount Lafayette from -Bald Mountain] - -But this lofty, bare space was also swept by a breeze, which curiously -enough dried the perspiration on their faces, and when they paused to -rest, taking off their packs, dried out their shirts so rapidly that -the evaporation made them cold. - -Once on top of Haystack, their way over the summit of the ridge lay -plain before them, the view opened out on both sides, and they dropped -their burdens to have a long look. - -Straight ahead, the path dropped down to the col between Haystack and -Lincoln--a col being the connecting spine, ridge, or saddle between -two peaks. This col was certainly a spine, bare, wind-swept, narrow, -nothing but an edge of gray tumbled rock. The mountain dropped down -sharply on both sides, and the boys exclaimed, almost in a breath: - -“Gee, I’d hate to cross that with the winter storms sweeping it!” - -“I’d hate to be anywhere above timber line, in a winter storm,” said -Mr. Rogers, “unless I was dressed like Peary on his dash to the Pole, -and the path was plain.” - -It was perhaps a mile across the col to Lincoln. “And beyond that -another mile or more--up all the way--to Lafayette!” the Scout Master -cried. “Shall we make Lafayette before we lunch, or not?” - -The Scouts all voted for it, and moved on again, across the col to -Lincoln. The path lay entirely over stones, not great levels of ledge, -but small, broken stones, making walking with anything but very stout -boots on extremely trying to the feet. All the way, on their left, -they could see down into the forests of the Notch, and they could look, -too, down upon the Lonesome Lake plateau, and even upon the top of -Kinsman, for they were higher than Kinsman already. On the other side, -toward the east, they looked down into a spectacle of indescribable -desolation--a wild region of deep ravines and valleys separated by -steep mountains, and the entire region stripped to the bare earth by -the lumbermen. On some of the steep hillsides, slides had followed, to -complete the destruction. This desolation extended as far eastward as -they could see, and was evidently still going on, for off to the south -they could see a logging railroad emerging from the former forest, -and once they heard, very faint and far off, the toot of a locomotive -whistle. - -“When I was a boy your age, Rob,” said Mr. Rogers, “all that country -in there, which is known as the East Branch region, because the East -Branch of the Pemigewassett rises in it, was primeval wilderness. There -was a trail through from North Woodstock over Twin Mountain to the -Twin Mountain House, with branches to Thoreau Lake and Carrigain. It -was wonderful timber--hemlocks a hundred and fifty feet tall, great, -straight, dark spruces like cathedral pillars! I tramped through it -once--took three days as I remember. And look at it now!” - -“Oh, why do they allow it!” cried Rob. “Why, they haven’t planted a -single new tree, or let a single old one stand. They’ve just _stripped_ -it.” - -“Yes, and spoiled the soil by letting the sun bake it out, too,” said -Lou. - -“We aren’t such a progressive people, we Americans, as we sometimes -think we are,” the Scout Master replied. “In Germany they’d have taken -out only the big trees, and planted little ones, and when the next size -was bigger, they’d have taken them out, and planted more little ones, -and so on forever. And we Scouts could be hiking down there, beside a -rushing little river, in the depths of a glorious forest.” - -“I’m never going to read a Sunday paper again--’cept the sporting -page!” Peanut answered. - -“Do you read any more of it now?” Art asked. - -“It wasn’t the Sunday papers which stripped that region,” said Mr. -Rogers. “It was a lumberman, who made boards and beams of the timber. -What did he care about the future, so long as _he_ got rich? Still, I -blame the state and the nation more than I blame him. He should never -have been allowed to lumber that wasteful way--nobody should. Look, -boys, there’s a cloud on Washington again.” - -The boys had almost forgotten Washington in their interest in the -stripped forest below them. They looked now far off to the northeast, -twenty-five miles away as the crow flies, and saw just the blue bases -of the Presidentials, wearing a white hood. - -“Say, will that cloud come over here?” asked Peanut. “Kind o’ lonesome -up here, as it is.” - -“Ho, we’ve got a compass. We could always just go west, down to the -Notch road,” said Art. - -Peanut looked down into the Notch. “Thanks,” he said, “but if you don’t -mind I’d rather go by a path.” - -“I guess we’ve nothing to fear from those clouds,” said the Scout -Master. “The wind is west. They’re nothing but local.” - -By this time they had reached the top of Lincoln, after a steady -upward toil. Another col lay ahead of them--just a huge knife blade -of jagged stone, with the path faintly discernible winding across it -and stretching up the rocky slope of the final stone sugar loaf of -Lafayette. - -“There’s journey’s end!” cried Mr. Rogers. “All aboard for the final -dash to the Pole!” - -They descended rapidly from Lincoln, and soon began the ascent again, -across the rising slope of the col, and then up the cone of Lafayette -itself. - -“I’m getting sort of empty,” said Frank. “What time is it, Art?” - -Art looked at his watch. “No wonder!” he said. “It’s one o’clock, and -after--twenty minutes after. What interests me is, how are we going to -cook any lunch up here on top?” - -“We can’t,” Mr. Rogers said. “Of course, there’s no wood. We’ll just -have to eat something cold, or else wait till we can get down to timber -line.” - -“Oh, dear! How long will that be?” said Frank. - -“I should fancy we could make timber in half an hour from the top.” - -“That would be two, even if we didn’t stay on top any time, wouldn’t -it?” - -“I _gotter_ stay on top long enough to dry my shirt,” Peanut answered. -“It’s sticking to me.” - -“Then you’ll have to eat emergency rations and sweet chocolate,” said -Art. “There’s nothing else which doesn’t have to be cooked.” - -“We ought to bake some bread and have a bit of potted ham, or something -like that, for noon lunches,” said Rob. “I move we do it to-night.” - -“To-night?” sniffed Peanut. “To-night, I guess you forget, we dine on -roast beef and plum pudding, because Art and I are heroes!” - -“I _did_ forget, _both_ facts,” Rob laughed. - -“Well, which is it, emergency rations, or wait till we get down to -timber?” asked the Scout Master. - -“Emergency rations!” said Lou and Frank. - -“Wait!” said Art and Peanut (who had eaten emergency rations before). - -“It’s up to you to cast the deciding vote,” said Mr. Rogers to Rob. - -Rob winked at the Scout Master and said, “Well, if Art and Peanut are -such heroes, a bit of nice, chewy pemmican won’t hurt ’em. I vote to -stay on top.” - -“For two cents,” said Peanut, “I’d punch you in the eye.” - -As they neared the top of the peak, they suddenly heard voices, which -sounded strange way up there, far above the world, where for hours they -had heard nothing but the rushing of the wind. - -“Hello!” exclaimed Mr. Rogers, “there’s a party here ahead of us.” - -“I’ll bet there are women in it, too,” cried Peanut. “And I wanted to -dry my shirt!” - -“Hm,” said Art. “Seem to be times when even _you_ don’t want women -around.” - -There were, however, no women in the party. As the Scouts crested the -final broken fragment of rock, they found themselves on a summit no -larger than a city back yard, and on that summit an old foundation -hole, where once a small summit house had stood. Down in this hole, -sheltered from the wind, were three men. Like the Scouts, they wore -khaki. They, too, had packs and blankets, and they all needed shaves. -They were eating their lunch as the boys suddenly appeared just above -them. - -“Hello!” they called up. “Where did you come from?” - -“Up from the Flume,” said the boys. - -“Took the wrong way,” said the men. “That’s the way to go down. You got -the long trail up.” - -“We like hard work,” Peanut retorted. “Excuse me while I dry my shirt.” - -He took off his pack and blanket, and then peeled himself of his outer -and undershirt, spread them on a rock in the wind and sun--and began to -shiver. - -“Wow! How this wind evaporates you!” he cried. - -“Get down out of it,” commanded the Scout Master, “and keep moving. -You’ll get cold if you don’t.” - -Peanut jumped into the foundation hole, out of the wind, and swung his -arms like a coachman in winter. Art took off his shirts, too, and did -the same thing. The rest decided to wait till they made camp at the -base. - -“And now for the emergency rations,” cried Rob, undoing his pack. - -(“Look at those guys--sandwiches! Oh, dear, wish you had a gun to hold -’em up, Art!” whispered Peanut.) - -(“I’d like to,” the other whispered back. “‘Your sandwiches or your -life!’ eh?”) - -Rob, meanwhile, had produced a small blue tin, and was opening it. The -three strangers looked on with an amused curiosity. Rob sniffed the -contents, assured himself that it was fresh, and with his knife blade -dug out a chunk for each member of the party. - -“Gee, is that all I get for lunch?” said Frank, contemplating the piece -in his hand, no bigger than an English walnut. - -“It’ll be all you’ll want, believe me,” said Peanut. - -“And all you need to stop your hunger and nourish you till night,” Rob -added. “That’s condensed food.” - -Peanut took his piece over to the three men. “I’ll swap this excellent -and nourishing morsel for a ham sandwich,” he said. - -The men laughed. “You will not!” one of them answered, hastily stuffing -the last of his sandwich into his mouth. “I’ve tried that before, -myself. If you’ve got a little water to soften it up in, and a bit of -bread to put it on, it’s not so bad, at that.” - -One of the other men passed over a sandwich--but not to Peanut. He gave -it to Rob. “Divide the bread,” he said. “It’ll make your rations go -better.” - -Each boy, then, got a third of a slice of bread, and a tiny morsel -of ham. On this they put their chunk of emergency rations, softened -with the last of the water from the canteens, and began to eat. Nobody -seemed to be enjoying the food very much, but their expressions grew -less pained the longer they chewed. - -“Beats all how long you can chew this before it disappears,” said Lou. -“Gets sweeter, too.” - -“Maybe that’s the bread. Bread almost turns to sugar if you chew -and chew it without swallowing,” said Rob. “But this pemmican stuff -certainly is filling.” - -“What’s it made of?” Lou asked. - -“Rats and rubber boots,” said Peanut. - -Mr. Rogers laughed. “Not exactly--put on your shirt, Peanut,” he said. -“Pemmican was originally made of dried venison, pounded up with fat and -berries. Now it’s made of dried beef pounded up with dried fruits and -fats, and packed into a jelly cake to harden. That’s about what this -is, I fancy. It’s very nourishing.” - -“All right, but where’s the sweet chocolate?” Peanut demanded. - -Rob passed out the chocolate for dessert, and after it was eaten, -everybody began to complain of being thirsty. The canteens were empty. - -“There’s a spring just below the summit,” said one of the three -strangers. - -“You mean there _was_,” laughed a second. “You drank it all dry on the -way up.” - -“Let’s get there on the way down before he does,” cried Peanut. - -“No fear,” the first speaker laughed, “we are going down over the -ridge, the way you just came up. We’re doing Moosilauke to-morrow.” - -“By the Beaver Brook Trail?” the boys asked. - -“Yes. Have you been over it? How is it?” - -“It ain’t,” said Peanut. “It was, but it ain’t.” - -“What do you mean?” - -“He means it’s eroded into pretty steep drops in places,” Rob put in. -“We thought when we came down that it would be an awful pull up.” - -“There’s a good logging road across the brook, though,” one of the -men said. “If you’d taken that instead of the trail you’d have had no -trouble. I was over it last year.” - -“I’m glad we didn’t,” Art said--“at least as long as we were coming -down.” - -Both parties now packed up their loads, took a last good look at the -view, with Washington still under the clouds, and said good-bye, the -three strangers going off down the ridge, the Scouts turning northwest, -and winding down the summit cone, over the rough, broken stones of -the path. At the base of the cone, they found the spring, a small, -shallow basin in the stones, so shallow that the water had to be dipped -gingerly to keep from stirring up the bottom. By the time the last boy -had drunk his fill, in fact, there wasn’t enough water left to dip. -Then the path turned due west, and descended at a more gradual angle, -still over small, flat, sharp fragments of stone, toward a little pond -in a hollow of the mountain’s shoulder, just below the line where the -dwarf trees stopped entirely. - -They were soon on a level with this lake, which is called Eagle Lake, -but the path was two or three hundred feet south of it, and to get in -to it meant fighting through tough dwarf spruce and other verdure, only -waist high, but as good as a wire fence. They stuck to the trail, which -led through this dwarf vegetation almost on a level for some distance, -then actually began to go up-hill again, on to the west shoulder of the -mountain. - -“Oh, rats!” cried Peanut. “I’ve gone up enough to-day!” - -“Heroes shouldn’t be tired,” said Frank. - -“Heroes need sleep, just the same,” Peanut retorted. - -The ascent, however, was not for long. Soon they swung northwest again, -entered timber at last, and began to descend rapidly. After a mile -or so on this tack, the timber growing ever taller, they brought up -against the end of Eagle Cliff, which rose straight up in front of -them. Here the path swung west again, and began its final plunge to the -Profile House. It was a good, generous path through the woods. In years -gone by it used to be a bridle path, for people ascended Lafayette on -horseback. - -“I’d hate to be the horse, though,” Peanut said, as he put his pole -ahead of him, and cleared six feet at a jump. - -It was, indeed, a steep path, and they came down it at a high rate of -speed. - -“Gee, we go up about a mile an hour, and we come down about six!” Art -exclaimed, catching a tree beside the path to stop himself. - -They began to have glimpses of the Profile House between the trees. -The trail suddenly slid out nearly level in front of them; other paths -appeared, crossing theirs; and before they realized where they were, -they stood in the clearing, by the railroad station, and just beyond -them was the huge Profile House and the colony of cottages. - -Peanut and Art sprang ahead. “Whoa!” cried Mr. Rogers. “Suppose we -leave our packs and stuff in the depot, and prospect light-footed, eh?” - -The baggage master at the depot recognized Art and Peanut. He had been -one of the pursuing party the night before. He stowed their things -in his baggage room. “Guess you can have the freedom of the city!” -he said. “Wouldn’t wonder, if you went to the hotel, they’d give ye -something cold.” - -“Come on!” cried Peanut. - -“No,” said Art, “I ain’t so thirsty I have to be treated. I don’t think -we want to do that, do you, Mr. Rogers?” - -“What do you think--on second thought, Peanut?” asked the Scout Master. - -“Well, we’re taking a dinner from Mr. Goodwin, ain’t we?” - -“Yes,” said Art, “but that’s different. We helped save his silver and -stuff. And it’s just in his family. Up there at the hotel, there’d be a -crowd around--women, and things. Looks kind of as if we were trying to -get into the lime-light.” - -“Guess you’re right,” Peanut replied. “Come on, then, and show us the -Old Man of the Mountain, Mr. Rogers. But ain’t there a place where we -can _buy_ a drink?” - -“We’ll find one--after we’ve seen the face,” the Scout Master laughed. -He looked at his watch. “After four, boys,” he added. “We’ve got to get -a camp ready, and spruce up before dinner, and I’ve got to go to the -hotel and get a shave.” - -They stepped up from the railroad station to the road. Directly before -them was the Profile House, a large wooden hotel, facing south. Behind -it rose the steep wall of Cannon Mountain, and south of it, on the -lowest terrace of the slope, was a double row of cottages, ending, on -a bend, with a group including Mr. Goodwin’s. Behind the boys, back -where they had come, they could see the first steep, wooded slope of -Lafayette, and to the north the great rocky precipice of Eagle Cliff. -Looking south again, the road disappeared between the landslides of -Lafayette on the one hand, and the wall of Cannon on the other, a -narrow notch, not much wider than the road itself. The opening where -the boys stood was only large enough to hold the hotel and cottages, -and three or four tennis courts, on which a crowd was playing. - -The party went south down the road, Peanut and Art pointing out Mr. -Goodwin’s house, and the track taken by the burglars, and quickly left -the houses behind. After a quarter of a mile or so, the woods opened -out ahead, and presently the boys stood in a place where the road was -enlarged to the left into a semicircle, and in that semicircle a team -or a motor could stop for the view. - -“It’s the place!” cried Peanut. “Here’s where they left the car! And -those are the bushes we crawled into, Art!” - -“And there’s the Old Man of the Mountain,” said Mr. Rogers. - -The Scouts followed his finger. Looking through an opening in the trees -across the road, toward the southwest, they saw first a beautiful -little lake, so still that it mirrored every reflection, and then, -rising directly out of the woods beyond this lake a huge cliff, curved -at first, but gradually attaining the perpendicular till it shot up -like the side of a house, fifteen hundred feet into the air. At the -very top of it, looking southward down the valley, was, indeed, the -Old Man of the Mountain--a huge knob of rock thrust forth from the -pinnacle of the precipice, and shaped precisely like a human profile, -with sunken eye under a brow like Daniel Webster’s, sharp nose, firm -mouth, and, as Mr. Rogers said, “quite literally a granite chin.” - -The boys looked at it in silence for a moment, and then Peanut said, -“But it looks so much bigger in all the pictures in the geographies. -Why, it really looks as small up there as--as the moon.” - -“That’s because the photographs of it are taken with a telescope lens, -I guess,” said Frank. “My camera would make it look about six miles -off.” - -“How big is it?” asked Lou. - -“They say about eighty feet from forehead to chin,” the Scout Master -replied. “And it’s about fifteen hundred feet up the cliff.” - -“I’d like to see it in full face,” Lou added. “Could we walk down the -road and see it that way?” - -“We’ve not time, I’m afraid,” Mr. Rogers replied. “We’d have to walk a -mile or more. It isn’t so impressive full face. In fact, this is the -only spot where the human likeness is perfect. At many points along the -road the full face view shows only a mass of rocks.” - -Lou was still looking at the great stone face gazing solemnly down over -the valley. - -“It’s like the Sphinx, somehow,” he said. “I’ve always thought of the -Sphinx looking forever out over the desert, and this old man of the -mountain looks just the same way forever down the Notch. It gives me a -funny feeling--I can’t explain it. But somehow it seems as if he ought -to be very wise.” - -Peanut laughed, but Mr. Rogers didn’t laugh. - -“Lou has just the right feeling about it,” he said. “Lou has just the -feeling they say the Indians had. To the Indians, the Great Stone Face -was an object of veneration. Did any of you ever read Hawthorne’s -story, ‘The Great Stone Face’?” - -None of the boys ever had. - -“Well, you ought to be ashamed of yourselves,” said the Scout Master. -“I’m going to see if Mr. Goodwin has the book, and read it to you. How -would you like to take to-morrow off, and climb up to his forehead, and -read the story there, and then go over to the Crawford House by train, -instead of hiking the twenty-five miles over, on a motor road full of -dust?” - -“Hooray! Me for that!” cried Peanut. - -“Me, too!” cried the rest of the Scouts. - -“Well, we’ll do it, if I can borrow the book,” said Mr. Rogers. “Now, -back to make a camp!” - -At the depot the boys shouldered their packs again, and Mr. Rogers -directed them to go north up the road till they came to Echo Lake. - -“Leave your packs at the little store,” he said, “and go down to the -boat house and get the man to take you out in a launch. I’ll get a -shave and meet you there.” - -The Scouts set off up the road, and the Scout Master went into the -hotel. When he had been shaved, he followed up the road, and as he drew -near Echo Lake, a beautiful little pond at the foot of a great cliff -just north of Eagle Cliff, he heard the long-drawn note of a bugle -floating out over the water, and echoing back from the cliff. He called -the boys in from the landing. - -“Oh, that’s lovely!” Lou exclaimed. “The sound just seems to float -back, as if somebody was up on top of the cliff with another bugle, -answering you!” - -They paid the boatman and went back to the little store, where the boys -had already consumed two sodas apiece, and Peanut had bought two pounds -of candy. From there they went still farther north up the road, and -suddenly plunged down a path to the left, into a ravine, with a brook -at the bottom, and in among a grove of gigantic hemlocks. - -“There are real trees!” said Mr. Rogers. “They are relics of the forest -primeval. ‘This is the forest primeval, the murmuring pines and the -hemlocks’--and so forth.” - -“Only there’s no ‘deep-mouthed neighboring ocean,’” Rob laughed. - -“There’s a brook,” said Lou. - -The hemlocks were indeed giants. They were three or four feet thick, -and rose sixty or eighty feet without a limb, their tops going on up -fifty feet more. - -In among these superb trees, the boys made camp, selecting a spot some -way from the path, and hidden by underbrush. They all took a bath in -the cold brook, put on their one change of clean clothes, washing out -their socks and underclothes and hanging them on twigs around the camp -to dry. Then they carefully combed their hair, dusted their boots, and -tied each others’ neckties neatly. (Peanut’s tie was badly crumpled, -for it had been in his pocket all day.) - -It was dark in the woods before they were ready, and it suddenly -occurred to them that they’d have trouble finding the camp again, later -in the evening. - -“We might leave the lantern burning--if it would last,” said Lou. - -“No, some one would see it, going by on the path,” Art replied. “We -don’t want to risk having our stuff pinched.” - -“I know--tie a white handkerchief to a bush by the path where we turn -off to camp, and then count the number of steps back to the road,” said -Frank. - -“Almost human intelligence,” Rob laughed, “And take the lantern with -us, to find the handkerchief with.” - -“Right-o!” said Peanut. - -It was time now to start for the dinner party. They tied the -handkerchief to the bushes by the path, and everybody counted his own -steps out to the road, in case the mark should be lost, or taken down -by some passer-by. Then they moved up the road, past the gaily lighted -Profile House, where they could see the guests eating in the big -dining-room with its large plate glass windows, and again rang the bell -of Mr. Goodwin’s house--but more quietly this time. - -A servant ushered them in, and Mr. Goodwin and his wife and son and -daughter at once came forward to greet them. The house was elaborately -furnished for a summer “cottage,” and the boys were rather conscious of -their scout clothes and especially of their hobnail boots. - -“Gee,” whispered Art, “keep on the rugs all you can, or we’ll dig holes -in these hardwood floors.” - -“So these are Peanut and Art,” said Mr. Goodwin, after introductions -all around, turning to the pair who had given the alarm the night -before. “I’m sorry to say, we can’t have dinner till the sheriff has -disposed of you two chaps. He’s waiting in the library now with a -stenographer.” - -Mr. Goodwin led the way into his library, where, sure enough, the -sheriff was sitting. - -“Here are your men,” said the host. “Don’t keep ’em too long. We’re all -hungry.” - -The rest of the party sat near by and listened, while the sheriff -swore in Art and Peanut. First they had to hold up their right hands -and swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the -truth. Then they gave their names, ages and residence, while the -stenographer’s pencil was busy making shorthand marks which Peanut, -regarding out of the corner of his eye, thought looked more like hen -tracks than anything else. - -“Now, tell me exactly what happened last night, from the beginning,” -said the sheriff. “I don’t want to ask you to come way up here from -Massachusetts for the trial, so I’m taking this sworn testimony now. I -think we have evidence enough to make your actual presence unnecessary.” - -Peanut started in on the story, told of his being awakened by the sound -of the motor stopping in the road, of waking Art, of their sneaking out -through the bushes, and hearing the two burglars talk. - -“What did they say, as exactly as you can remember it?” asked the -sheriff. - -Peanut turned red, and glanced toward Mrs. Goodwin and her daughter. -“Have I got to tell exactly?” he stammered. “We ain’t allowed to talk -that way in the Scouts, even without ladies present.” - -Everybody laughed, and the officer with them. - -“You can put in blanks,” he answered. - -Peanut, with Art’s help, and also Rob’s, who came upon the scene at -this point, as the reader will remember, and also with the aid of many -“blanks,” reconstructed the conversation as well as he could. Then -Art took up the narrative, and described the ride up the valley, the -cutting of the tires, the pulling out of the wire in the engine (which -the burglars had put back again), and the subsequent arousing of the -neighborhood. - -“Well, that’s some story!” said the sheriff, with admiration. “That’s -what I call quick action, and brave action. One thing you didn’t do -you might have--you might have cut out a piece of that wire so they -couldn’t have put it back. But if you had, they wouldn’t have tried to -get away in the car, but would have taken to the mountain, and perhaps -escaped, so it’s just as well.” - -He shook hands heartily with Art and Peanut, and then with the rest of -the boys, and departed. - -“Now for dinner!” cried Mr. Goodwin. - -Mrs. Goodwin led the way to the dining-room, while her husband -explained to the boys as they went along that all the wedding presents -had been shipped back to a New York vault, under guard that day, to -avoid the chance of another scare. - -They took their places at the big table, which was gay with candles, -Art and Peanut having places of honor beside Mrs. Goodwin and her -daughter. There were great, snowy napkins to spread on their laps, and -there was iced grape fruit to begin on, and soup, and roast beef, and -all sorts of good things, ending up with ice-cream. As it was after -seven thirty before they sat down, and the boys had eaten nothing but -emergency rations at noon, you may be sure that nobody refused a second -helping of anything, just to be polite. In fact, Mrs. Goodwin saw to it -that everything came around twice. - -“My, nobody has eaten like this in my house for a long time!” she said, -“and a housekeeper does like to see her food enjoyed. John”--this to -her husband--“why don’t you climb Lafayette every day, so you can get -up a real appetite?” - -“I wouldn’t, alas!” he laughed. “I’d just get lame legs and a headache. -Lafayette’s for the young folks. Have some more ice-cream, Peanut?” - -“Gee, I’d like to--but I’m full,” said Peanut, so honestly that -everybody roared. - -“I don’t suppose you carry an ice-cream freezer in your packs, do you?” -Mrs. Goodwin laughed. - -“We don’t,” said Rob, “nor grape fruit nor napkins, either. I’m afraid -this luxury will spoil us for camp to-morrow!” - -“Do you know,” Mr. Goodwin said, “I’m tired of luxury, myself. If I was -twenty years younger, I’d get a blanket out and go with you boys for -the next few days, and eat bacon and flapjacks out of tin plates, and -have the time of my life.” - -“Come on!” the Scouts cried. - -And Peanut added, “You ain’t old. Why, Edward Payson Weston’s lots -older than you are!” - -“And he walked from San Francisco to New York didn’t he?” Mr. Goodwin -laughed. “Well, I guess his legs are younger than mine. Where do you go -to-morrow, by the way?” - -This reminded Mr. Rogers of the book, so he asked if he could lend him -a copy of Hawthorne’s “Twice Told Tales.” - -“If you can,” he said, “we are going up Cannon to-morrow morning and -read ‘The Great Stone Face,’ and then go over to the Crawford House on -the train, to be ready for the Bridle Path the next day.” - -“Have we got it--the book?” Mr. Goodwin asked his wife. - -She shook her head, but the daughter spoke--“The Andersons have a copy, -I know. I’ll run over and get it after dinner.” - -“Fine--and as to that train--nothing doing,” said Mr. Goodwin. “You’ll -all get in my touring car after lunch, and the driver’ll take you over -to Crawford’s, and show you some sights on the way. I’ll tell him to -take you through Bethlehem first. Now, don’t say no! I want to do that -much for you.” - -The Scouts thanked him, and agreed to be ready at two o’clock, on -the next day, for the start. They rose from dinner now, and strolled -out-of-doors. There was music at the Profile House. - -The entire party loitered along the board walk in front of the -cottages, with the great, dark wall of Lafayette going up against the -stars directly across the road, and sat on the Profile House veranda -a while, listening to the music within. Dancers came out and walked -back and forth in front of them between dances--men in evening clothes, -girls in low-necked white dresses. It was very gay. But how sleepy -the Scouts were becoming! Mr. Rogers saw it, and whispered to their -hostess. They walked back to the house, got the book, said good-night, -and once more tramped down the road. - -“Gee, it’s ten o’clock,” said Art. “Awful dissipated, we are.” - -Peanut yawned. “Bet I’ll hate to get up to-morrow. Wow, some class to -that dinner, though! Ain’t you glad we were heroes, boys?” - -Lou was lighting his lantern. “I’m glad you picked out Mr. Goodwin to -warn,” he laughed. - -They were alongside of Echo Lake now. “If I wasn’t so sleepy, I’d like -to go down there and make an echo now, in the night,” said Lou. “It -would be kind of wild and unearthly.” - -“Yes, and easy to do, seeing’s we have no bugle and no boat,” said -Frank. “Me for bed.” - -They now turned in from the road, and followed the path, each one -counting his steps. But, as the path was down-hill, and they had -counted first when going up-hill, everybody was still many paces -shy when Lou, who was leading with the lantern, suddenly spied the -handkerchief, still tied to a bush. They turned into the underbrush, -and after considerable stumbling in the dark, amid the undergrowth and -the gigantic hemlock trunks, the lantern light fell on a shimmer of -white--one of the shirts hung up to dry--and they found their camp. It -wasn’t five minutes later when the camp was once more dark and silent. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -ON THE FOREHEAD OF THE OLD MAN OF THE MOUNTAIN - - -The camp next morning was still asleep at daybreak, and for the first -time, almost, in the history of the Southmead Scouts Art was not the -first to wake. He and Peanut were both asleep when the rest sat up and -rubbed their eyes, and it was not till Rob rattled a pan and Lou began -to chop wood that the two boys aroused. - -“Because you’re heroes is no reason you should be lazy,” Rob laughed. - -Peanut propped himself up on his elbow, and regarded the scene. The sun -had not yet risen high enough to look in over the northern shoulders of -Lafayette, and it was still dim among the great hemlocks. Some forest -birds were singing sweetly, a hermit thrush far off sounding like a -fairy clarion. The brook could be heard running close by. The woods -smelled fresh and fragrant. - -“I don’t believe I’ll get up at all,” Peanut announced. “Rather like -it here. Gee, but I slept hard last night! Bet I made a dent in the -ground.” - -“Won’t get up at all, eh?” Rob remarked, setting down the coffee-pot. -“We need more wood. Out with you!” - -He took hold of Peanut’s blanket, and rolled the occupant out upon the -bare ground. - -Peanut picked himself up sleepily, and hunted his tooth-brush out of -his pack. “Oh, very well!” he said, starting down to the brook for his -morning wash. “Only it would be nice one day just to lie around in -camp, and do nothing.” - -“We’ll do just that, when we get to the Great Gulf, or Tuckerman’s -Ravine, perhaps,” said Mr. Rogers. “But not to-day. Besides, we’re -going to get a motor ride this afternoon.” - -It was after seven o’clock before camp was struck. They left -everything packed and ready to put aboard the motor after lunch, and -armed only with a small package of raisins apiece, which Mr. Rogers -had mysteriously produced from his pack, and the last of the sweet -chocolate, and with their staffs and canteens, and the book, they set -off. - -“Seems good to be going light,” somebody remarked. - -“It does that,” said Art. “Let’s whoop it up this morning. By the way, -we haven’t cut our mileage for two days.” - -“We can do it at lunch,” said Peanut. “Won’t take us long to eat what -we’ve got. That’s a lead pipe. Say, Mr. Rogers, did you have those -raisins yesterday?” - -“You’ll never know!” the Scout Master laughed. - -The path up Cannon Mountain (which, by the way, is called Cannon -Mountain because a rock on what looks like the summit from the Profile -House resembles a cannon) started in near the hotel, and lost no time -about ascending. It began to go up with the first step, in fact, -through an evergreen forest, and it never stopped going up till it -emerged from the evergreens upon bare rock, two miles away, directly -across the Notch from the point on Lafayette where the path reaches the -end of Eagle Cliff. - -“Looks as if you could almost throw a stone across,” said Peanut. - -The boys now saw that the real summit of Cannon was a mile away to -the west, and instead of looking down, as they had expected to do, -upon the top of Bridal Veil falls on the west side, where their real -mountain trip had begun, they were a long distance from the falls. -The Old Man lay to the south of them, and it was toward him they made -their way, standing presently on top of the precipice above his massive -forehead, and looking southward through the Notch. What a view it was! -The ground below their feet fell sheer away out of sight, fifteen -hundred feet to the valley below. To the right was the great wall of -Kinsman, to the left the bare scarred ridges of Lafayette, Lincoln, -Haystack and Liberty, along which they had plodded the day before. In -the green Notch between they could see the white road and the little -Pemigewassett River flashing through the trees, on their way to the -Flume House, and far off, where the Notch opened out into the sunny -distances, the town of North Woodstock. Beyond the opening, the boys -could see the far blue mountains to the south. - -“That’s what the Old Man of the Mountain is forever looking at, boys,” -said Mr. Rogers. “Not a bad view, eh?” - -“It’s wonderful!” said Lou. - -The Scouts now lay down on the rocks, and Mr. Rogers opened the book to -the story of “The Great Stone Face.” - -“This story,” he began, “was written in Berkshire County, pretty close -to our home--in Lenox, in a little red house at the head of Stockbridge -Bowl, in the summer of 1851, when Hawthorne was living there. It isn’t -exactly about this particular Old Man of the Mountain, as you will see -from the description. It’s really about a sort of ideal great stone -face. But of course it was suggested to Hawthorne by this one.” - -Then he read the story aloud. I wish all my readers, before they go any -further in this book, would get Hawthorne’s “Twice Told Tales,” and -read it, too, right now. If you’ve read it before, read it again. And -try to imagine, as you read it, that Rob and Lou and Frank and Art and -Peanut were listening to it, not in school, not in a house, but sitting -fifteen hundred feet above the Notch, almost on the forehead of the -Great Stone Face itself, and looking off at exactly the same view he -looks at, fifty miles into the blue distance. - -When Mr. Rogers had finished the story, none of the boys spoke for a -minute. Then Peanut said, his brows contracted, “I’m not sure I quite -get it.” - -Lou was gazing off thoughtfully down the valley. - -“I think it means that Ernest was the man who fulfilled the prophecy -and grew to look like the Great Stone Face because he didn’t try to -become rich, or a great fighter, or a politician, or even a poet -looking for fame, but just tried to live as good a life as he could. He -was a kind of _still_ man, and it makes you want to be still and just -sit and _think_, to look out over the world the way the Great Stone -Face does.” - -Mr. Rogers nodded his head in approval. “You’ve got the idea, Lou,” he -said. “I want all of you to get something of it, too. There is a lot -to be learned from mountains as well as fun to be had climbing them. I -don’t believe any of you realized that to-day is Sunday, did you?” - -“Gee, I hadn’t!” cried Peanut “Tramping this way, you lose track of -time.” - -“Neither had I,” said the rest. - -“Well, it is,” Mr. Rogers laughed. “And this is our way of going to -church. You remember what the Bible says about the mountains? ‘I will -lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help -cometh even from the Lord.’ You see, long, long ago, men felt about the -mountains as we do now--that there was something big and eternal about -them; and just as the Pemigewassett Indians thought that the Great -Spirit lived on Moosilauke, and perhaps worshipped the Great Stone Face -here, so the men in Bible days thought of the hills as the symbol of -God’s dwelling place. Then later, in our own time, we find Ernest in -the story refusing to judge men by worldly standards, but judging them -by whether they resemble the Great Stone Face--that is, judging them by -whether they were calm, and sweet, and good, like the mountains, and -the forests, and the still places. - -“As Lou says, Ernest was a _still_ man--that is, he wasn’t bustling -around making war or making money. When you come to think about it, -the still men are the greatest. The greatest man who ever lived was -Jesus Christ and He changed all history by the Sermon on the Mount; not -by making wars like Napoleon, but by new ideas which He had thought -out, and by teaching love of your fellow men. Darwin, experimenting -with plants and fishes and animals and bugs, reached the theory of -evolution, which made the nineteenth century so wonderful. He was a -still man. He didn’t fight nor make money nor shout at the crowds, -yet he altered the whole conception of science and religion and human -thought. Ernest in the story just stayed down there in his own valley, -under the shadow of the mountain, and did his daily work quietly, and -loved his neighbors, and preached wise words to them, and made his -corner of the world a little better and happier--and suddenly it was -_he_ who resembled the Great Stone Face. - -“Look out, boys, over the Notch, and see what the Old Man sees. Doesn’t -it make all our little human rows and rights and ambitions seem small -and petty? The Old Man will still be looking when you and I are dead -and forgotten. While we are here, however, let’s try to be a bit -like him, worthy of this view, and not talk too much unless we have -something to say, and be charitable with all our neighbors, and just -try to remember that no matter if lessons in school don’t go right, -or we are licked in baseball, Lafayette and Cannon and Kinsman are -still here, the Old Man is still looking down the valley. Let’s lift -up our eyes unto the hills, and get strength. Next winter, if you feel -like being cross to your mother some morning, or doing a mean thing -to somebody who’s done a mean thing to you, just remember this view, -just say to yourself, ‘The Great Stone Face is looking calmly down the -valley, and expects me to be calm, too, and generous, and kind, because -those things are what really make men great.’ Will you try to remember, -boys?” - -“Sure!” cried Peanut. - -“I can never forget this view,” said Lou. - -“Whenever I get sore or cross, I always go out in the woods,” said Art. - -“Say,” Peanut added, “I _like_ to go to church this way!” - -The rest laughed; and “church” was over for the morning. The boys now -munched their raisins, and cut their last two days’ mileage on their -staffs. From the camp on Moosilauke to Lost River was four miles, -through the river one, back to the store for the packs, two more, to -North Woodstock five, and up to the camp by the Flume House six. That -made eighteen miles, and Art and Peanut added another mile on their -staffs for their walking during the pursuit of the burglars. The -mileage for the next day, according to Art’s pedometer, showed nine -miles from camp to the Pool and then to the top of Lafayette, and five -miles down the mountain and to the base camp. Then there were two more -miles of walking about to Mr. Goodwin’s house, Echo Lake, the Profile, -and so on--a total of sixteen. - -The boys washed down their frugal meal of raisins and chocolate with -all the water from the canteens (“Gee,” said Frank, “it beats all -how much you drink on mountains. I suppose it’s due to the rapid -evaporation.”) and shortly before one began the descent. It was made -in quick time. With no packs to bother them, the Scouts could vault on -their poles, and they came down the two miles in seventeen minutes. -They were hot and panting at the base, and surprised at their own -record. - -“Takes you in the front of your legs, and in behind your knees,” said -Frank. “I suppose that’s because we don’t develop those holding-in -muscles on the level.” - -“Well, we’ll develop ’em before we get home, I guess,” said Peanut, -rubbing his shins. - -They now went to the Goodwins’ house to pay their party call, and say -good-bye, and then returned to camp to wait for the motor. They had all -their stuff out beside the road when the car, a big, seven passenger -touring car, came along, and in they piled. They drew lots for the -front seat, and Peanut won. The other five got into the tonneau, and -with a shout, the car started up--or rather down the road, for they -were on the top of a hill. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -THE CRAWFORD NOTCH - - -The road kept on going down, too, through the woods. The driver told -them that this was Three Mile Hill, and nobody disputed him. It was -certainly three miles. All the cars they met coming up were on the -lowest speed, and chugging hard. At the bottom, they came into the -little village of Franconia, and behind them they could see the -mountains they had been climbing, piled up against the sky. - -“How about grub?” Art suddenly exclaimed. “We’ve got to stock up before -we start to-morrow. In fact, we haven’t enough for supper to-night--and -it’s Sunday.” - -Nobody had thought of that, but Mr. Goodwin’s chauffeur was equal to -the emergency. He drove to the storekeeper’s house, who opened the -store, and sold them what they needed. - -“Suppose I’m breaking the law,” he said, “but _I _shouldn’t want to see -you fellers go hungry!” - -Then they got in the car again, turned eastward, climbed a hill past -the Forest Hill Hotel, and spun along the Gale River road toward -Bethlehem, a pretty road through the woods, beside the rushing Gale -River. After a few miles, the road climbed a long hill, away from the -river, and suddenly, at the top of the hill, they looked out across the -valley to the whole panorama of the White Mountains. To the right, a -little behind them, rose Cannon and Lafayette. Directly south was the -sharp cone of Garfield, then the two tall Twins, then, still far to the -east, but nearer than they had yet seen them, the blue Presidentials, -with Washington clear of cloud, and the Summit House showing. - -“Some sight!” exclaimed Peanut. - -They now came speedily into Bethlehem, a town high upon a hill, with -many hotels and many stores and summer houses, along a single street, a -street a mile long, with golf links at one side of the road, and many -people in gay summer clothes walking up and down. The chauffeur drove -the length of the street and back (stopping, at Peanut’s demand, to -get sodas at a drug store) and then turned the car eastward once more, -toward Mount Washington. - -The going was good, and the driver “let in the juice,” as Peanut -expressed it. They rushed along at thirty miles an hour, with Mount -Washington getting closer every moment. - -The Scouts took off their hats, and the warm wind blew through their -hair. - -“Pretty fast walking we’re doing to-day!” cried Peanut. - -In less than an hour, in fact, they had swung with the bend of the -rushing Ammonoosuc River into a considerable level plain, and found -themselves in the midst of a settlement. There were two or three -railroad tracks, cottages, a small hotel, then a big hotel--the Fabyan -House, and a junction railroad station, and then, still closer to the -great wall of the Presidential range, which now loomed up directly -in front of them, the Mount Pleasant House, and half a mile to the -left, across a beautiful green golf course, the huge bulk of the Mount -Washington Hotel. - -“Golly, that hotel is as big as Mount Washington itself,” said Art. - -The chauffeur laughed. “Yes, and the prices are as high,” he said. - -They now passed along the road, between the two hotels, headed south, -and then began to go up-hill, leaving the Presidential range more -and more on their left. Soon they lost sight of Washington, with the -curving line of the railroad up its flank. After two miles, they lost -sight of all the range. On their left was only a high, wooded slope. On -their right was the same. In front of them a white hotel and railroad -station suddenly appeared, and in front of that was only a narrow -defile between the two hills, just big enough to let the road and -railway through. - -“The Crawford House!” said Mr. Rogers. “And ahead is the gateway to the -Crawford Notch. All out!” - -They got out of the motor beside the hotel, and thanked the chauffeur -for their trip. They had come twenty-seven miles farther on their way -since two o’clock, and it was not yet four! - -“Now,” said Mr. Rogers, when the car had turned back home, “the -Crawford Bridle Path starts right here in these woods across from the -hotel. That’s it, there. I move we tote our stuff up it far enough to -make camp, and then take a walk down into the Notch.” - -“Second the motion,” said Frank. - -Picking up their burdens, the boys walked a quarter of a mile eastward, -by a beaten path that ascended at a comfortable angle, not far from a -brook. Presently they found a pool in the brook, hid their stuff in the -bushes fifty feet from the path, and hurried back to the Crawford House. - -Just below the hotel and the railroad station was a small pond. - -“That pond,” the Scout Master said, “is the head waters of the Saco -River. We are on a divide. Behind the hotel, the springs flow north -into the Ammonoosuc, and thence into the Connecticut. They empty, -finally, you see, into Long Island Sound. The water of this lake -empties into the Atlantic north of Portland, Maine. Yet they start -within two hundred yards of each other.” - -Just south of the little pond, the boys noticed a bare, rocky cliff, -perhaps a hundred feet high, rising sharp from the left side of the -road. The top was rounded off. - -“Look!” said Lou. “That cliff is just like an elephant’s head, with his -trunk coming down to the road!” - -Mr. Rogers laughed. “They call it the Elephant’s Head,” he said. -“You’re not the first to discover the resemblance.” - -When they had passed the Elephant’s Head, they saw that the gate of the -Notch was, in reality, not wide enough to admit both the carriage road -and the railroad. The railroad, on their right, entered through a gap -blasted in the solid rock. A few steps more, and they were in the gate -themselves, and the wonderful panorama burst upon them. - -They saw that the railroad kept along the west bank of the Notch, -high above the bottom, but the carriage road plunged directly down, -beside the Saco River (at this point but a tiny brook). On the west -side of the Notch Mount Willard rose beside them, and south of that -Mount Willey shot up almost precipitously, the latter being over four -thousand feet high. On the east side was the huge rampart of Mount -Webster, also four thousand feet high, and nearly as steep, with the -long white scars of landslides down its face. - -“Well!” said Peanut, “the Franconia Notch was some place, but this one -has got it skun a mile. Gee! Looks as if the mountains were going to -tumble over on top of you!” - -“They did once, on top of the Willey family,” said Mr. Rogers. “Come -on, we’ll walk down till we can see how it happened.” - -The road plunged rapidly down-hill, into the forest at the bottom of -the Notch. They met one or two motors chugging up, and having a hard -time of it. In one case, everybody but the driver was walking, to -lighten the load. - -“I came down this hill on a bicycle once--only once,” said the Scout -Master. “It was back in 1896, when everybody was riding bicycles. I was -trying to coast through the Notch. Somewhere on this hill I ran into a -big loose stone, head on, and the bicycle stopped. I didn’t, though. -The man with me couldn’t stop his wheel for nearly a quarter of a mile. -Finally he came back and picked me up, and took me back to the Crawford -House, where they bandaged up my head and knee. Somebody brought the -wheel back on a cart.” - -“Say, it would make some coast on a bob-sled, though!” cried Peanut. -“Wouldn’t be any rocks to dodge then.” - -“And there’d only be about ten feet of snow in here to break out, I -reckon,” Art answered. - -“Nearer thirty,” said Mr. Rogers. - -Over two miles below the Crawford House they came to the site of the -old Willey House, and saw through the trees to the west the towering -wall of Mount Willey, scarred still by the great landslide, seeming to -hang over them. - -“There’s where she started,” said Mr. Rogers, pointing to the top of -the mountain. “It was back in late August, in 1826, that the slide -came. There had been a drought, making the thin soil on the mountain -very dry. Then came a terrific storm, a regular cloudburst, and the -water went through the soil and began running down on the rocks -underneath. That started the soil and the trees on it sliding, and they -gathered headway and more soil and debris and rocks as they came, the -way a snowball gathers more snow, and presently a whole strip of the -wall was thundering down. - -“There had been a smaller slide in June, which had terrified the -family, and Willey had built a sort of slide-proof shelter down the -road, in case another came. It wasn’t so far away that the family -didn’t have time to get to it, if they started when they heard the -slide first coming, and nobody has ever been able to explain why none -of them got there. James Willey, a brother of the dead man, however, -always said that his brother’s spirit came to him in a dream, and told -him that the terrible rain, which had caused a rise of twenty-four -feet in the Saco, made them fearful of being drowned, and when the -water reached their door-sill, they fled not to the shelter hut, but -higher up the slope. Then, when the slide came, they were too far away -from the hut to escape. They had evidently been reading the Bible just -before they fled, for it was found open in the house.” - -“In the house?” cried Peanut. “Didn’t the house get swept away?” - -“No, that’s the oddest and saddest part of the story. The slide split -on a great boulder or ledge behind the house, and if they’d stayed in -it, not a soul would have perished. As it was, Mr. and Mrs. Willey, -five children, and two hired men were all killed. Three bodies were -never found. Only the dog escaped. He appeared at a house far down -the road, the next day, moaning and howling. He was seen running back -and forth for a few hours, and then he disappeared and was never seen -again. It was two or three days before the floods went down enough to -allow rescue parties to get up the Notch, however.” - -“Let’s go see the rock that split the slide,” said Lou. - -Mr. Rogers led the way behind the site of the old house, and showed -them the top of the rock, above the ground. - -“This boulder was thirty feet high in 1826,” he said. “The landslide, -as you see, nearly buried it; but it split the stream, and the debris -all rushed in two currents on either side of the house, uniting again -in the meadow in front. The house stood for many years after that. I -think it was destroyed finally by fire.” - -“But what gets me is, why should anybody want to live in such a -lonesome spot, anyhow?” said Peanut. “Gee, it’s getting dark down here -already.” - -“Well, there was no railroad in those days,” Mr. Rogers answered, -“and the road through the Notch was the main artery of travel to the -northern side of the mountains. I suppose the Willey House made a good -stopping place for the night. Let’s go up to the railroad now, and get -a look at the engineering job, which was a big thing in its day--and is -still, for that matter.” - -They climbed some distance through birch trees up the steep western -wall of the Notch before reaching the railroad. Once upon it, they saw -the great gap in the hills to far better advantage, however, than from -the road below. Willey shot up directly over their heads, as steep a -long climb, probably, as there is anywhere east of the Rocky Mountains. -The Scouts came very near deciding to give up a day from Washington, -and tackle it. Directly across the Notch they could see the whole -long, beetling brow of Webster. - -“It kind of looks like the pictures of Daniel,” said Peanut. “Stern and -frowning.” - -“And the slides are the furrows in his forehead,” laughed Rob. - -But it was looking north that the view was most impressive. The -railroad hung dizzily on the side wall, with the rocks apparently -tumbling upon it from the left, and it about to tumble down the rocks -to the right. It curved eastward a mile or two ahead, and at the bend, -facing down the Notch, was the precipitous southern wall of Mount -Willard, almost a sheer rock cliff a thousand feet high. As the party -walked up the track, the cliff grew nearer and nearer, and as the -daylight faded in this deep ravine, it seemed more and more not to be -straight up, but to be hanging forward, as if ready to fall on top of -them. - -“I’d hate to be in here during a thunder-storm,” said Lou. “It’s--it’s -kind of terrible!” - -They came through the gate of the Notch at six o’clock, and there was -the Crawford House in daylight, and above it, on the slope of Clinton, -were the rays of the sun! - -“Good little old sun,” said Peanut. “Wow! I’d hate to live where it set -every day at four o’clock.” - -They now hurried up the Bridle Path to their camp, and Peanut tied the -flag to a tree, in honor of the first camp on the Washington trail, -while the others began preparations for supper or cut boughs for the -night. - -When the supper dishes were cleared away, they heard a faint sound of -music coming up to them from below. Peanut pricked up his ears. - -“Concert at the Crawford House!” he said. “Let’s go down and hear it.” - -“It sounds pretty nice right here,” said Mr. Rogers. - -“Aw, come on!” Peanut urged. “We can get post-cards there, too, I -guess. Art wants to send one to his Pinkie.” - -“Shut up!” said Art. “What you really mean is that you want to get some -candy.” - -“No, I don’t. I got some left from this afternoon.” - -“You have!” said Frank. “You old tightwad! Why don’t you pass it -around?” - -“’Cause I sat on it by mistake,” Peanut answered. “Come on down to the -hotel.” - -“Maybe we’d better,” Rob put in. “We can all send a card home to our -folks.” - -“Not forgetting Pinkie,” said Peanut to Art, as he ducked down the -path, stumbling in the dark. - -Lou took the lantern, and tied his handkerchief to a bough over the -entrance to the camp. The rest waited till this was done, and followed -behind him. They didn’t catch Peanut till the very bottom. - -“That was easy,” he said. “I’m like the old geezer on Moosilauke--got a -sixth sense in the soles of my feet. Besides, if you get off the path, -you bump into a tree, which knocks you back in.” - -The brightly lighted windows of the Crawford House were open, and the -sound of the orchestra was floating out. Many people were walking up -and down on the veranda. They were all dressed elaborately, many of the -men in evening clothes. The little party of five boys and a man, in -flannel shirts and khaki, attracted much attention as they entered the -lobby of the hotel. - -“Gee,” Art whispered, “think of coming to the mountains for a vacation, -and having to doll all up in your best rags! That’s not my idea of fun.” - -“It’s my idea of the ultimate zero in sport,” laughed Rob. - -Peanut had at once found the post-card stand, and was offering Art a -“pretty picture for Pinkie” as the latter came up. - -“All right!” Art laughed. “I’ll send it!” - -But he wouldn’t let anybody else see what he wrote. - -The others all sent cards home, and, not to be outdone by Art, they -sent cards also to the girls they had met in Lost River. Peanut found -a picture of the top of Mount Washington to send to Alice, and he -carefully drew a picture of himself upon the topmost rock, like this: - -[Illustration] - -On the other side he wrote, “The persevering Peanut on the Peak.” - -“Guess that’s some alliteration!” he said. “Mr. Rogers, what painter’s -name began with P?” - -“Perugino,” said the Scout Master. - -“Do you mind spelling it--slowly?” - -Mr. Rogers spelled it, and Peanut added on the card--“Painted by -Perugino.” - -“Guess that’ll hold her royal highness for a while!” he laughed. - -Then he bought a stamp, and triumphantly dropped the post-card in the -letter box. - -The boys sat on the veranda for a while, listening to the music, until -Rob and Mr. Rogers noticed that Art’s eyes were closed, and Peanut’s -head bobbed down upon his chest every few minutes, and Frank and Lou -were yawning. - -“Bunk!” said Rob. - -Lou relit the lantern, and they climbed back up the path to camp. - -“We are on the way up Washington at last,” said the Scout Master as -they were rolling up in their blankets. “At this time to-morrow, we’ll -be asleep on the highest point east of the Rockies, and north of -Virginia.” - -“Hooray,” said Peanut. “Let Per--Per--Perugino know, please.” - - - - -CHAPTER X - -A FIGHT WITH THE STORM ON THE CRAWFORD BRIDLE PATH - - -The morning dawned cold, with a north wind, and the Scouts woke up -shivering. As they were in the woods on the west slope of a mountain, -it would be some time before they could see the sun, but so far as they -could get a glimpse through the trees to the west and north, the day -promised well for the ascent of Washington. - -“Looks clear,” said Art. “I wonder if old Washington has got a cloud -cap on?” - -“We’ll know before very long,” said the Scout Master. “Even if it has, -I don’t think we’ve got much kick coming. Here we’ve been out in the -open since the night before the Fourth, and not a bad day yet.” - -“Right-o!” said Peanut. “Weather man must have known we were up here.” - -The party ate a good breakfast, chiefly of fresh eggs, which Lou -ran down to the Crawford House and bought while the fire was being -made. Then the packs were carefully packed, the blanket rolls firmly -strapped, compasses examined and stowed in the pockets, and the party -was ready for the ascent. They moved rather slowly into the path, and -turned upward, for the loads were heavy. They were carrying enough -provisions for four days, the evaporated vegetables and powdered milk -and eggs having been largely saved for this final trip over the bare -Presidentials, where they would be far from any sources of fresh -supply, and their weight increased by flour, a little butter, some -coffee, bacon, potted ham and sweet chocolate purchased the day before -in Franconia. - -“I feel like a packhorse,” said Peanut. - -“Don’t you mean a donkey?” Art laughed. - -“Speaking of horses,” said Mr. Rogers, as they plodded up the trail -through the woods, “this Crawford Bridle Path was made originally for -horses, little burros I suppose they were, and folks even when I was a -boy used to go up on their backs. I suppose the cog railroad put that -form of transportation gradually out of business. Now nobody goes up -this way except on Shanks’ mare.” - -“When was this path made?” asked Frank. - -“It was the first path cut on the Presidential range,” Mr. Rogers -replied. “Abel Crawford opened it in 1819, as far as the summit of -Clinton--three miles from the Crawford House. It’s another five and -a half or six to the top of Washington, however, and it wasn’t till -about 1840, I believe, that one of Abel’s sons converted it into a -bridle path and carried it on to Washington. You see, by that time, -people had begun to visit the mountains for their vacations in large -numbers.” - -“So the part we are on is nearly a hundred years old!” Lou exclaimed. - -They plodded steadily upward, by a fairly steep grade, though not a -difficult one. The rising sun was now striking down into the spruce and -hemlock woods about them, but they noted that it was rather a hazy sun. - -“I bet there’s a cloud on Washington,” Art muttered. - -“What’ll we do if there is? Can we climb in it?” Frank asked. - -“That all depends,” the Scout Master replied, “upon how bad a cloud it -is. If we get into a storm up there, a real storm, we’ll beat it back, -you bet! I haven’t told you, I guess, that as late as 1900 two men lost -their lives on this path in a snow-storm on the 30th of June--that’s -hardly more than a week earlier than to-day. Down here it’s midsummer, -but up there on the five thousand or six thousand foot level it’s still -early spring.” - -“Golly!” said Peanut, in such a heartfelt manner that the rest -laughed--though they laughed rather soberly. - -“I ought to add,” the Scout Master went on, “that W. B. Curtis and his -companion, Allen Ormsby, the two men who died, would not have perished, -probably, if they had turned back when they first saw threats of bad -weather, as they were warned to do, instead of trying to keep on, or -even if there had been a shelter hut, as there is now, on the long, -bare, wind-swept col between Monroe and the summit cone of Washington. -They tried to build a shelter under Monroe, and then left that to -press on to the summit. Curtis didn’t quite get to the site of the -present hut, but doubtless he would have if the hope of it had been -there to spur him on. As it was, he evidently fell and injured himself, -and Ormsby died some distance up the final cone, struggling in a mad -attempt to get to the top and find aid for Curtis. He had fifty bruises -on his body where the wind had blown him against the rocks. Curtis was -thinly clad, and he was sixty years old. Two guides, descending, who -met them on Pleasant, had warned them not to go on--that there was snow -and terrible wind above; but they evidently didn’t realize at all what -they were in for.” - -“Oh, well, we’ve got blankets, and you know the way,” cried Peanut. -“What do we care? Guess we’ll ride out anything that can hit us in -July!” - -The conversation was suddenly interrupted by a sharp “S-sh!” from Art, -who was leading. The rest stopped short, and looked up the path in the -direction of his pointing finger. - -There, right in the path fifty feet ahead, pecking away at the mould -exactly like a hen in the barnyard, was a big brown partridge! The -Scouts stole softly toward it, expecting every moment to see it rise -and go whirring off through the woods. It did stop feeding, raised its -head to look at them, and then hopped up the bank beside the path and -began scratching again. - -“Good gracious, is it a tame partridge?” Art whispered in astonishment. - -But his astonishment was still greater when, a moment later, the whole -party stood in the path not six feet from the bird, and saw that it -was one of a small covey of six. Four of them were feeding on the -ground, and making soft, pretty _coots_, like hens on a hot summer day. -Two were perched lazily on the low branch of a hemlock. They paid no -attention to the Scouts. - -“Gee!” said Frank, “you could knock ’em over with a stick! Let’s have -partridge for dinner.” - -“Nix!” said Art. “It’s out of season. Besides, I wouldn’t kill anything -so tame. I guess they’re not hunted much here. I never saw ’em tame -like this before in my life. Down home they’d have been a mile away by -now.” - -The birds looked up at the sound of his voice, and moved a few feet -farther off. Then they began feeding again, the hens following the cock -in a sort of procession. - -“They certainly are pretty,” Rob said. “I didn’t know a partridge was -so pretty. Take a picture of ’em, Frank.” - -“Not sun enough in under those trees,” Frank sighed. “I wish I could.” - -The boys were reluctant to leave the partridges, but the day was -mounting, and they pressed on. - -The trees were growing more and more stunted, and rocks began to -appear in the trail. Now and then there was a break to the north, -and they could see far below to the broad green intervale of Bretton -Woods. In another half hour, the forest had shrunk to dwarf shrubs, -and they emerged above timber line almost upon the top of Clinton. -The summit, however, lay a few hundred feet to the south of them, and -shut out the view in that direction. Northward, they could see for a -long distance. Westward, too, they looked back at the first mountains -toward Franconia. Ahead of them, they saw only a great, bare, rocky -ridge rising gradually to the dome of Mount Pleasant, and to the -left of this, northeastward, the sloping shoulders of the mountains -beyond, falling away to the valley far beneath. Washington was hidden -somewhere beyond Pleasant--still six miles away. It was nine o’clock. -The dome of Pleasant was free from clouds. The northern sky was blue. -Yet the sun was hazy, and southeastward there seemed to be a haze over -everything. The wind was cold. Mr. Rogers shook his head, but said -nothing. - -Sitting down to rest, and ease shoulders from the pull of the pack -straps, he pulled the little green Appalachian guide book out of his -pocket, and read the “Caution” therein about the Crawford Path: - - “This path is one of the most dangerous in the White Mountains, on it - no less than four persons having lost their lives. For a long five - miles it is above tree line and exposed to the full force of all - storms and there is but one side-trail leading to the shelter of the - woods. The following precautions are suggested:--Persons unfamiliar - with the range should not ascend the Crawford Path except in fine - weather and beginners should not attempt it alone. If trouble arises - south of Pleasant go back over Clinton. If on Pleasant go down the - Mount Pleasant Path. If between Pleasant and Franklin remember that - by returning via the south loop there is protection from north and - northwest winds in the lee of the mountain. Between Franklin and the - cone of Washington the Club’s Refuge Hut should be used. This is the - most dangerous part of the path. Never, under any circumstances, - attempt the cone if a storm has caused serious trouble before its - base is reached. Should the path be lost in cloudy weather go north, - descending into the woods and following water. On the south nearly all - the slopes are much more precipitous and the distance to civilization - is much greater.” - -“Say, what are you trying to do, scare us to death?” Peanut said. - -“No, I’m not trying to scare you,” Mr. Rogers answered. “But I do want -to impress on you, before we begin our two or three days on these -summits, that they are dangerous mountains, and that here, if anywhere, -our scout motto, ‘Be prepared,’ is the one to live by. As you say, -we have blankets, plenty of food, and compasses, and we can go down -anywhere we want, if need be, into the timber, and get through. But we -might get scattered, or after to-day we might split for a time into -groups, and I want you all to know what to do. Now, let’s on again.” - -Packs were resumed, and the party started ahead along the rocky path -toward the domed summit of Mount Pleasant, which from this high col was -hardly more than a hill of rocks, rising a few hundred feet above the -path. They plodded on for a mile or more, and began to see over into -the great wilderness to the south. To the north, at their very feet, -lay the Bretton Woods intervale, with the hotels and golf links, but -to the south the pitch was much steeper, and dropped into a region of -forest and tumbled mountains without a house or road of any sort as far -as the eye could see. - -Now the path divided, the trail to the left leading directly over the -summit of Pleasant. They took the right hand trail, and dropped down -a little, going along through some low scrub which had climbed up from -the gulf below, protected from the north winds. It was warmer here in -the shelter of Pleasant, and they stopped for a long drink by a spring. -But, two miles from Clinton, they rose again beyond Pleasant upon the -bare col between Pleasant and Franklin, and got the full force of the -north wind, which seemed to be blowing harder than before. The sun, -too, was getting more misty. Mr. Rogers was watching the south and -southeast, but while it was very hazy in that direction, the direction -of the wind didn’t seem to indicate that the mist bank could come their -way. They rested a moment, and then began the toilsome ascent up over -the waste of strewn boulders toward the summit of Franklin. The path -was no longer distinct. Here and there it was plain enough, but in -other places it could be detected only by the piles of rock, or cairns, -every hundred feet along the way. - -As they drew near the summit of Franklin, Frank, who happened to look -back down the trail, shouted to the rest. - -“Look,” he said, “somebody’s coming up behind us!” - -The others turned. Sure enough, half a mile back down the trail, were -two people, a man and a woman, evidently hurrying rapidly. - -“They haven’t any packs or blankets,” said Art. - -“Nor anything at all, but sweaters tied around their waists, as far as -I can see,” Lou added. - -“Probably going up for the day only, and expecting to get down again -before night,” said the Scout Master. “They’ll have to hurry. They seem -to be hurrying. They’ll catch us all right, at the rate they are coming -now, before we get beyond Monroe.” - -A few moments later, the Scouts were on top of Franklin, 5,029 feet, -the first time they had been above the five thousand foot level except -on the summit of Lafayette. Directly ahead, a little over a mile away, -was the summit of Monroe, two jagged twin shoulders of rock, with the -south wall plunging down almost precipitously into the great pit of -Oakes Gulf. Beyond Monroe, rising a thousand feet higher into the air, -at last the great summit cone of Washington was fully revealed, and -even as they gazed upon it, a thin streamer of grayish white cloud blew -against it out of nothingness, and then shredded out to the southward. - -“I don’t like that,” said Rob. - -“Hm,” said Mr. Rogers, “if it’s no worse than that we needn’t worry. -It’s those two behind I’m thinking about.” - -The Scouts moved on, across the col between Franklin and Monroe, with -the north wind blowing an increasing gale, and always now on their -right the yawning pit of Oakes Gulf. They were not more than half-way -across when the couple behind them came over Franklin, following them. -They were under the southern side of Monroe, some little distance below -the summit, and very close to the head wall of the gulf, when the -couple caught them. - -Meanwhile the cone of Washington had gone out of sight in a white mass. -Southward, the view was shut out, for the haze had moved up against the -wind. Down at their very feet, in Oakes Gulf, a cloud suddenly appeared -from nowhere, coming to the last scrub evergreens. - -The couple hailed the boys with panting breath. - -“How much farther is it up Washington?” the man asked. - -Mr. Rogers and the Scouts turned and looked at them. They were young, -evidently city bred, and they had on very light shoes. The girl had -on a silk waist, the man a stiff collar! They had no food with them, -having eaten some sandwiches they brought, so they said, as they -walked. They had put on their sweaters, and had no other protection. - -“You are two miles from the summit yet,” said Mr. Rogers, “with the -hardest part of the climb ahead.” - -“Oh, John, I can never do it!” said the girl. - -“We’ve _got_ to do it,” the man answered. “You see,” he added to Mr. -Rogers, “we’ve got to catch the train down. Some people are waiting for -us at the Mount Pleasant House.” - -“The train down!” said Mr. Rogers. “Why, man alive, it’s nearly noon -now, and the train goes down shortly after one. It will take you two -hours to make the summit cone, with your--your wife in her present -condition, even if you don’t lose the path.” - -“I--I’m not his wife,” the girl said, turning very pale. “We are -engaged only. You see, we’ve got to get down again to-day. Oh, John, we -_must_ catch that train!” - -“Come on, then, we’ll do it! Why, we can make two miles in less than an -hour! Two hours, indeed!” - -He started ahead, but Mr. Rogers grabbed his arm. - -“Hold on!” he said, “have you ever been on this mountain before?” - -“No,” they both answered. - -“Well, I have,” the Scout Master continued. “Ahead of you lies the most -dangerous stretch of path east of the Rocky Mountains. There’s a cloud -coming down from Washington, and we may have a storm at any minute. -You’ve got no compass, no provisions, no proper clothes. You’d lose -that path in five minutes in a cloud. In 1900, the thirtieth day of -June, two men, good strong walkers, too, died of exposure between here -and the summit. You stay with us.” - -The girl went whiter still, and the man, also, grew pale. - -“But can’t we go back the way we’ve come?” he said. - -Mr. Rogers pointed back over the ridge. A cloud was rolling up and over -it from the pit of Oakes Gulf. - -“You’d lose that path, too,” he said. “You stick with us, and if we -can’t make the summit before the storm breaks, we’ll ride her out in -the Shelter Hut. Come, I’m captain, now. Forward, march!” - -As the party emerged from the slight shelter of Monroe, upon the great, -bare stretch of rising plateau which forms the col between Monroe and -the summit cone, they could with difficulty stand up at first against -the gale which hit them. The clouds were apparently doing a kind of -devil’s dance around Washington. Behind them other clouds had sucked up -the Notch, and then up Oakes Gulf, and were pouring over the southern -peaks behind like a gigantic wave, beaten back into breakers by the -wind. Here on this plateau they were for the time being in a kind of -vortex between two cloud masses. They hurried as fast as they could, -Mr. Rogers and Art leading. - -All the party were rather pale, especially the girl. Rob was walking -beside her, and helping her fight the great wind. Their breath was -short, in this altitude, and hurrying was hard work. Moreover, the wind -came in mighty, sudden gusts, which almost knocked the breath out of -them and frequently made them stop and brace. - -They had not gone a quarter of a mile when the clouds that came down -Washington and those which streamed in from Oakes Gulf closed together, -and the last of the party, who chanced to be Lou, suddenly found that -he couldn’t see anything, nor anybody. - -His heart gave a great jump in his breast, and he let out a terrified -cry, which was almost lost in the howl of the wind. - -“Come on up!” he heard faintly. A second later, and he saw the forms -of Peanut and Frank emerge from the mist ahead of him. The whole party -now gathered close in behind Mr. Rogers, keeping only two feet apart, -almost treading on each other’s heels. The Scout Master stopped a -second. - -“Everybody watch for the cairns,” he shouted, “and keep close together. -Art and I have our compasses. Now, keep cool. We are only a short way -from the hut. We’ll go in there till the worst is over.” - -Then he moved on, slowly, making sure of the path. The wind was -rising. The cloud that packed them close as cotton batting condensed on -their clothes in fine drops. Suddenly Peanut, who was blowing on his -chilled hands, noticed that the drops were beginning to freeze! The -rocks of the path were getting slippery, too. The girl had stumbled -once, and strained her ankle. She was paler than ever. - -“Oh, why did I wear these high heeled shoes!” she half sobbed. - -The words were no sooner out of her mouth (and probably nobody heard -them for the shrieking of the wind along the stony ground), when a -terrific gust hit the party in the faces, its force knocking their -breath out, the hail-like, freezing cloud stinging their faces, -the damp cold of it numbing them. The girl fell again, Rob holding -her enough to break the fall. Mr. Rogers ahead also fell, but -intentionally. He made a trumpet with his hands. - -“Lie down and get your breaths!” he shouted. “Then go on in the next -lull as far as you can!” - -They all got up again when the hurricane blast was over, and, heads -down into the teeth of the icy wind, they pushed on, till the next gust -made them fall down for shelter. - -“Two miles in an hour!” Peanut was thinking. “We aren’t going a quarter -of a mile an hour at this rate. Will we ever get there?” - -But the rest were struggling on, and he struggled, too, though his -instinct was to turn back to the wind, and beat it for the Crawford -House, not realizing that over four miles of bare summit lay between -him and the sheltering woods. - -Suddenly Art and Mr. Rogers ahead gave a cry. The rest, looking, saw -dimly in the swirling vapor only a pile of stones and a cross. - -“It’s the spot where Curtis died,” Mr. Rogers shouted. “We have only a -quarter of a mile to go.” - -“Gee, I don’t think it’s very cheerful,” said Peanut. “I’m near frozen -now.” - -At the sight of the cross the girl gave way. She began to sob, and Rob -felt her weight suddenly sag heavily on his arm. - -“Here, quick!” he yelled at her companion. “Take her other arm.” - -The two of them got Rob’s blanket unrolled and wrapped about her, as -best they could for the whipping of the gale, and then half carried her -along, while she tried bravely to stop her hysterical sobbing. - -The gale was now a perfect fury. It must have been blowing seventy -miles an hour, and the contact of this north wind with the warmer -cloud bank from the south was making a perfect hurricane vortex of -half frozen vapor around these high summits. Everybody was exhausted -with fighting against it, and chilled with cold. Mr. Rogers and Art, -however, kept shouting back encouragement as each fresh cairn was -picked up, and as Mr. Rogers knew the trail, and they had a map and -compass, there were only a few delays while he or Art prospected -ahead at blind spots. Alternately lying on their faces on the frozen, -wet rocks to get their breaths, and pushing on into the gale, they -struggled ahead for what seemed hours. Actually it was only half an -hour. Half an hour to go 440 yards! - -Suddenly, out of the vapor, not twenty-five feet ahead of them, loomed -a small, gray shanty. - -“Hoorah!” cried Art and Mr. Rogers. “The hut!” - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -TO THE SUMMIT, SAFE AT LAST - - -They dashed to it, and opened the door. The hut was a tiny affair, with -a lean-to roof. It faced to the south, with a door so narrow a stout -person could barely squeeze in, and one tiny window. It would hold -about six people without undue crowding--and here were eight! - -“Peanut’s only half a one,” said Art, cracking the first joke since the -storm began. - -Into the hut, however, all eight of them crowded. Inside, they found -two or three blankets hung on a string, and nothing else except a sign -forbidding its use in any save cases of emergency. - -“I guess this is emergency, all right,” said Rob, as he helped to wrap -the girl in a pair of dry blankets, and put the third blanket about -her companion. The boys all wrapped up in their own. Rob then got out -his first aid kit, and gave the girl some aromatic spirits of ammonia, -which revived her so that her hysterical sobbing stopped. - -“Here, take my pack,” said Lou, “and use it for a pillow.” - -The young man, who was nearly as pale as the girl, and almost as -exhausted, took the pack and placed it in a corner. Then they laid the -girl on the floor, with her head upon it. Her fiancé bent over her. In -cases like this you don’t think of other people being around. He kissed -her, and all the boys turned their faces away, and Peanut rubbed the -back of his hand suspiciously across his eyes. - -“Guess he’s glad we’ve got her safe in here,” Peanut whispered--or -rather he spoke in what was merely a loud tone, which amounted to a -whisper with the gale howling so outside. - -“I guess we’re all glad we’re in here,” Frank replied. “Look out there!” - -They looked through the window into what at first appeared to be the -thick cotton batting of the cloud, but closer inspection showed them -that it was snow. The cloud was condensing into snow! - -“Whew!” Peanut whistled, while the tiny cabin gave a shiver as if it -were going to be lifted from its foundations. - -“Lord, what a gale!” said somebody else. - -There was silence in the hut. Everybody was listening to the wind. -It was howling outside, seeming to sing over the loose stones of the -mountain top, and wail through the chinks of the tiny cabin. It blew -incessantly, but every few seconds a stronger gust would come, and as -if a giant hand had suddenly hit it, the cabin would shiver to its -foundations. And outside was only a great white opacity of snow and -cloud! - -“Well, well!” cried Mr. Rogers, suddenly, in a cheerful voice, “here we -are safe and snug--almost too snug. It’s lunch time. It’s past lunch -time. Why shouldn’t we eat? We’ll all feel better if we eat.” - -“How are we going to cook anything?” asked Art. “There’s no stove, and -no chimney.” - -“And no wood,” said Rob. - -“There’s a little bit of wood outside the door. I saw it when we came -in,” said Frank. - -“And a lot of good it would do,” Art answered. “You couldn’t even light -it out there in that tornado.” - -“We’ve got some cold things,” said the Scout Master. “Come on, out with -that can of potted ham, and the crackers we bought in Franconia to eat -bacon on, and some sweet chocolate. We’ll do very nicely.” - -The Scouts soon had sandwiches made with the crackers and ham, and -offered them first to the couple, who, wrapped in blankets, were -shivering in the corner. The girl sat up, and she and the man each ate -two sandwiches hungrily, and sweet chocolate beside. The girl’s color -began to come back. - -“Do you feel better now, dear?” the man asked her. - -She nodded her head. - -“Of course she does,” said Mr. Rogers. “I’ll tell you something now -that we are safe in the shelter. There was no time nor chance to tell -you out there. I was too busy keeping the trail. It’s this:--about -half the trouble on mountains like this comes from funk, just as half -the drownings occur from the same cause. Not only do you lose your way -much more easily when you get terrified, but your vitality is lowered, -and the cold and exhaustion get you quicker. If you keep cool, and -your heart is beating steadily, normally, your eye finds the trail -better and your body resists the elements. That is why nobody ought to -tackle this Bridle Path who isn’t familiar with the mountain, unless -he is accompanied by some one who _is_ familiar with it. And, unless -the weather is good, nobody should tackle it without a food supply. In -fact, I’d go so far as to say they never should, for you can’t depend -on the weather here for half a day at a time, or even an hour.” - -“I realize that now,” the man said, soberly, as he shivered in his -blanket. “They told us down at the Crawford House that it was going to -be a gale up here to-day, but I’m afraid we didn’t realize what a gale -on Washington meant. I don’t know what would have become of us if we -hadn’t met you!” - -“Oh, John, don’t!” cried the girl, as if she was going to weep again. - -“Well, I call it some adventure!” Peanut cried. “Gee, I’ll bet we’ll -all talk about it when we get home! Mr. Rogers had me scared, all -right, way back on Clinton, talking about storms and----” (here Peanut, -who was about to say “people killed in ’em,” caught Rob’s eye in -warning, and added instead) “----and things. When the clouds hit us, -my heart came up into my mouth, and then went down into my boots like -a busted elevator, and I got kind of cold all over. I can see how, if -I’d been alone, that would have knocked the legs out from under me, all -right. But there was Mr. Rogers keeping the trail, so I just plugged -along--and here we are! Say, I’m going out in the snow! Snow in July! -Hooray! Come on, Art!” - -Peanut and Art opened the narrow slit of a door wrapping their blankets -close about them while Mr. Rogers shouted to them not to go out of -sight of the cabin, and stood outside in the icy cloud. Rob, watching -them through the window, saw them scooping the thin layer of snow off a -rock, and moulding it into a snowball apiece, which they threw at each -other. He could see their mouths opening, as if they were shouting, but -the howling of the gale drowned all sound. A few minutes later they -came in again, their faces and hands red. - -“Say, it’s cold out there!” cried Art, “but the wind is going down a -bit, I think, and it looks lighter in the north.” - -“It wouldn’t surprise me if it cleared up in an hour,” said Mr. Rogers, -“and it wouldn’t surprise me if we had to stay here all night.” - -“All night!” cried the girl. “Oh, John, we’ve _got_ to get down -to-night. Oh, where will mother think we are! They’ll know we were in -the storm, too, and worry. Oh, dear!” - -She began to sob again, and the man endeavored to comfort her. - -“Come, come!” said Mr. Rogers, rather sternly, “you’ve got to make the -best of a bad bargain. If we can get to the Summit House later in the -day, you can telephone down to the base. Where are your family?” - -“They were at Fabyans,” the man answered. “We were all going to -Bethlehem this afternoon, after the train got down the mountain. You -see, Miss Brown and I wanted to walk up the Crawford Bridle Path, and -catch the train down. We started very early. A friend of ours walked it -last summer in three hours and a half.” - -“Some walking!” said Peanut. - -“Well, it’s been done in two hours and thirty minutes,” the Scout -Master replied. “But it was done in that time by two men, college -athletes, in running drawers, and they were trained for mountain -climbing, into the bargain. And they had clear weather to the top. -Whoever told you that you could make it ought to have a licking. Of -course your family will worry, but you--and they--will have to stand -it, as the price of your foolhardiness. We are not going out of this -hut while the storm lasts, that’s sure!” - -Something in Mr. Rogers’ stern tone seemed to brace the girl suddenly -up. She stopped sobbing, and said, “Very well, I suppose there’s -nothing to do but wait.” - -Then she rose to her feet, and stamped around a bit on her lame ankle, -to keep it from getting stiffened up too much, and to warm her blood, -besides. - -“I’d like to know what the thermometer is,” said Frank. “Must be below -freezing, that’s sure.” - -Rob was looking out of the window. “I’m not so sure,” he answered. “It -has stopped snowing now. Say! I believe it’s getting lighter!” - -He opened the door and slipped out of the hut into the cloud. A moment -later he came back. - -“The north is surely breaking!” he cried. “This cloud bank hasn’t got -far over the range. The north wind has fought it back. While I was -watching, the wind seemed to tear a kind of hole in the cloud, and I -saw a bit of the valley for a second. Come on out and watch!” - -All the Scouts went outside, leaving the couple alone within. As soon -as they got free of the lee side of the shelter, the gale hit them full -force, the cloud condensing on their blankets, which they had hard -work to keep wrapped about them. But the sight well repaid the effort. -The wind was playing a mad game with the vapors on the whole north -side of the range. The great cloud mass below them was thinner than -it had been. They could see for several hundred feet along the bare -or snow-and-ice capped rocks, which looked wild and desolate beyond -description. Farther away, where the rocks were swallowed up in the -mists, was a seething caldron of clouds, driven in wreaths and spirals -by the wind. Suddenly a lane would open between them, and the rocks -would be exposed far down the mountain. As suddenly the lane would -close up again. Then it would once more open, perhaps so wide and far -that a glimpse of green valley far below would come for a second into -view. Once the top of Mount Dartmouth was visible for a full minute. -Still later, looking northeast, the great northern shoulder of Mount -Clay appeared. - -“The clouds are not far down on the north side of the range, that’s a -fact,” said Mr. Rogers. “With this north wind still blowing we may get -it clear enough to tackle the peak yet. But we don’t want to stand out -here in the cold too long.” - -Everybody went back to the shelter and waited another half hour, -which seemed more like two hours, as Peanut said. Then somebody went -out again to reconnoitre, and returned with the information that the -cloud was lifting still more, and the northern valley was visible. In -another half hour even from within the cabin they could see it was -very perceptibly lighter. The hurricane had subsided to a steady gale, -which Rob estimated at forty miles an hour, by tossing a bit of paper -into the air and watching the speed of its flight. It was warmer, too, -though still very chilling in the fireless cabin. In another half hour -you could walk some distance from the cabin without losing sight of it, -and Peanut and Art went down to the spring behind for water. Then Mr. -Rogers took the Scouts back on the trail a short distance and showed -them a peep of the two Lakes of the Clouds back on the col toward -Monroe. - -“We were going to have lunch by those lakes,” he said. “I wanted to -show you several interesting things about them. But they’ll have to -wait. It’s a regular Alpine garden down there, and it’s coming into -flower now. If we get a good day to-morrow, we can take it in, though.” - -“Look,” cried Lou, suddenly, “there’s Monroe coming out of the cloud!” - -“And there’s Franklin behind it!” cried Frank. - -“And there’s a misty bright spot where the sun is!” cried Peanut. - -They hastened back toward the shelter to carry the news to the couple -within, and even as they walked the clouds seemed to be rolled up by -the wind from the northern slopes, and blown off toward the south. -Before long, the whole Crawford Trail behind them was practically free -from cloud, and the sun, very faint and hazy, was making a soft dazzle -on the powder of frost upon the rocks, for the snow was little more -than a heavy frost. To the north, they could again see the valley, and -the Dartmouth range beyond it, and peaks still farther away, with the -sunlight on them. - -But the entire summit cone of Washington was still invisible. Standing -in front of the shelter, they looked along a plateau of granite and saw -it end in a solid mass of cloud. - -“Oh, does that mean we can’t go on?” cried the girl. - -Mr. Rogers looked at her. “How do you feel?” he said. - -“Lame and cold,” she answered, “but I can do it!” - -“Well, I feel pretty sure that this storm is over for the day,” the -Scout Master replied. “But those clouds will probably take all night -to blow off Washington. I can keep the path, I feel pretty sure. It -is plain after you reach the actual cone. And, anyhow, we’ve got time -enough to circle the cone till we reach the railroad trestle, if worst -comes to worst. I guess you’d be better off at the top. Shoulder packs, -boys!” - -He looked at his watch. It was half-past three. “Now, less than two -miles! Keep moving briskly. There’s nothing to fear now. This storm is -over, I’m sure. A fire waits on top!” - -They started out at a good pace over the plateau of Bigelow Lawn, Lou -looking eagerly at the numerous wild flowers in the rock crannies. The -snow was already melting, but it only made the trail the more slippery, -and this, coupled with the high wind, made walking difficult. The girl -and her companion had no poles, so Rob and Art lent them theirs, and -Rob walked beside the girl to help her over bad places. - -A third of a mile above the refuge they came upon the Boott Spur Trail, -leading off to the right, down the long ridge of the spur, southward. - -“Tuckerman’s Ravine is in there, to the east of Boott Spur,” said the -Scout Master. “It seems to be filled with clouds now.” - -The clouds, however, were off the spur, and though now, as the summit -path swung rather sharply toward the north and began to go up steeply, -they were entering into the vapor about the cone of Washington, it was -much less dense than during the morning, and they could see the path -ahead without much difficulty. This path was something like a trench -in the rocks, apparently made by picking up loose stones and piling -them on either side till the bottom was smooth enough to walk on--or, -rather, not too rough to walk on. - -“This path’s a cinch now,” said Peanut, going into the lead. - -Every one, however, as the trail grew steeper and steeper, began to -pant, and pause often for breath. - -“What’s the matter with my wind?” asked Art. “Is it the fog in my -lungs?” - -“It’s the altitude,” Mr. Rogers laughed. “It oughtn’t to bother you -boys much, though. You are young. I’m the one who should be short -breathed. The older you get, the less ready your heart is to respond to -high altitudes.” - -“I don’t mind it,” sang back Peanut. “Art feels it because he’s so fat!” - -They toiled on a few moments more in silence, and then Lou suddenly -exclaimed, “Look! a junco!” - -Sure enough, out from under a rock was hopping a junco. Art went toward -it, and looking under the rock found the nest. - -“Well!” he said. “What do you think of that! A junco nesting on the -ground!” - -“Where else would he nest here?” Lou laughed. “But juncos are winter -birds, I thought.” - -“Well, ain’t this winter weather enough for you to-day?” said Art. - -“The top of Washington is said to be about the climate of Labrador,” -Mr. Rogers put in. “That’s why some juncos always spend the summer here -instead of going farther north.” - -Lou was watching the pretty gray and white bird, as it hopped excitedly -over the rocks, almost invisible sometimes against the bare gray -granite, and in the whitish mist. “That junco is protectively colored -on these rocks, all right,” he said. “But gee, he looks kind of lonely -way up here!” - -“Lonely!” exclaimed Frank. “I must say, this whole place is the most -desolate looking thing I ever saw--nothing but big hunks of granite -piled every which way, and no sun and no sky and no earth below you. I -feel kind of as if we were the only people in the whole world.” - -“So do I,” said Peanut. “I like it, though! Way up in the clouds above -everybody--not a sound but the win----” - -Just at that moment, seemingly from the gray cloud over their heads, -rang out the call of a bugle! - -Everybody stopped short, and exclaimed, “What’s that?” - -“We aren’t up to the top yet,” said Mr. Rogers. “Somebody must be -coming down.” - -“Hello, yourself!” yelled Peanut, at the top of his lungs. - -There was a sharp toot on the bugle, and as the Scouts moved forward -up the trail, they presently saw dim figures above them, moving down. -A moment later and the parties met. The newcomers were five men, with -packs and poles. One of them had a bugle slung from his shoulder. - -“Is Miss Alice Brown in your party?” they called as soon as they came -in sight. - -“Here I am,” the girl said. “What is it?” - -She had gone white again, and hung on Rob’s arm. - -“We’re looking for you, that’s all,” said the five men, as the parties -met. “Is your companion here?” - -“I’m here--we’re both here, thanks to these boys and their leader,” the -man replied. “How did you know we were coming up?” - -“How did we know?” said the man with the bugle. “Miss Brown’s parents -have been spending $7,333,641.45 telephoning to the summit to find out -if you had arrived. As soon as we got word that the lower ridges had -cleared, we started down to look for you.” - -“Oh, poor mamma!” cried the girl. - -“Well, she’ll be waiting for you with her ear glued to the other end of -the wire when you get up--never fear,” the bugler said. Then he turned -to Mr. Rogers. “Where did you ride her out? The shelter?” he asked. - -“Yes,” the Scout Master replied. “That shelter certainly justified -itself to-day.” - -“Good!” said the other. “Score one more for the Appalachian Club. It -was the worst July storm I ever saw on the mountain. A hundred miles an -hour on top, and the thermometer down to twenty-two.” - -He moved on up the trail beside Mr. Rogers and one or two of the Scouts. - -“Greenhorns, of course?” he queried, in a low tone, nodding back toward -the man and girl. “Tried it without any food, or enough clothes, or -even a compass, I’ll bet?” - -“Exactly,” the Scout Master answered. “They were following us--expected -to make the top in time to catch the train down. Thought it was a -pleasant morning stroll, I suppose. They caught us under Monroe, when -the weather was first thickening up nasty. The girl had wrenched her -ankle, and it seemed wiser to make the shelter than to try to get back -to the Mount Pleasant trail, and then way down Pleasant to Bretton -Woods, in the teeth of the gale.” - -“Quite right,” said the other. “Did you have any trouble with the -path?” - -“A good deal,” Mr. Rogers answered. “Art, here, and I were picking it -up, and we didn’t let on, but it was hard work, especially with that -icy gale in your face. It ought to have at least double the number of -cairns between Monroe and the summit cone. I really thought I’d lost it -once, but we picked up the next cairn before we got nervous.” - -“You’re right,” said the bugler. “You’re quite right. They’ve neglected -this fine old path for the paths on the north peaks. And it’s more -dangerous than any of the north peaks, too. It ought to be remarked.” - -As he spoke, they came suddenly into what looked like an old cellar -hole in the rocks. - -“The corral where the horses used to be hitched after they’d come up -the Bridle Path,” said the man. “We’re almost there, now.” - -The path became more nearly level, and very soon, through the cloud, -they could make out what looked like the end of a wooden bridge. A -moment later, and they saw it was the end of a railroad trestle. -Another minute, and through the vapors they saw emerge a house, a -curious, long, low house, built of stone, with a wooden roof. The house -was shaped just like a Noah’s ark. - -“The summit!” cried Mr. Rogers. “There’s the old Tip Top House!” - -The Scouts gave a yell, and jumped upon the platform at the top of the -railroad. From this platform a board walk led up to the door of the -Tip Top House. Across the track, steps led down to a barn and a second -house, the coach house at the top of the carriage road, which ascends -the eastern slope of the mountain. - -The girl, as Rob and her fiancé helped her up on the platform, gave a -weary sigh, almost a sob, and then, hobbling on her lame ankle, she -tried to run up the walk to the Tip Top House. The boys followed a -little more slowly, looking first at the cellar hole where the old -Summit Hotel used to stand (it was burned down in 1908) and where a new -hotel will have been built before this story is published. - -It was nearly half-past five when they entered the long, low room of -the Tip Top House, and felt the sudden warmth of a wood-fire roaring in -a great iron stove. - -Dumping their packs in a corner, the boys made for this stove, and held -out their hands toward the warmth. - -“Gee, it feels good,” said Peanut. - -“Feels good on my legs, all right,” said Frank. “I’m kind o’ stiff and -tired, I don’t mind saying.” - -The girl had disappeared. She had already talked to her mother at the -foot of the mountain by the telephone which runs down the railroad -trestle, and the wife of the proprietor of the Tip Top House had taken -her up-stairs to put her to bed. - -[Illustration: “It all depends on what winds Father Aeolus keeps -chained, perhaps in the deep caverns of the Great Gulf, or which ones -he lets loose to rattle the chains of the Tip Top House”] - -“I guess she’ll sleep all right to-night,” said the man with the bugle, -who had entered with the boys. - -“And she won’t tackle the Crawford Bridle Path with high heeled shoes -on very soon again, either!” said Rob. “Are we going to sleep here, -too, Mr. Rogers? I don’t believe we’ll want to sleep outside. The -thermometer by that window is still down almost to freezing.” - -The man with the bugle whispered to them, so the proprietor wouldn’t -hear, “Don’t stay here. They’ll stick you for supper and put you in -rooms where you can’t get any air. The windows are made into the roof, -and don’t open. I got a horrible cold from sleeping here last year. -Guess they never air the bedding. We are all down at the coach house. -You may have to sleep on the floor, but the window will be open, and -you can cook your own grub on the stove.” - -“That’s us!” said Peanut. “Say, we want to get some sweet chocolate -first, though, and some post-cards, don’t we?” - -The Scouts all piled over to the long counter at one side of the -room, and stocked up with sweet chocolate, and also wrote and mailed -post-cards, to be sent down on the train the next day. The summit of -Washington in summer is a regular United States post-office, and you -can have mail delivered there, if you want. - -“Be sure you don’t scare your families with lurid accounts of to-day!” -Mr. Rogers cautioned them. “Better save that till you’re safe home.” - -“Why don’t you write out a little account of your adventure for _Among -the Clouds_?” said the proprietor. “You can have copies sent to your -homes, if you leave before it comes out.” - -“What’s _Among the Clouds_?” the boys asked. - -He picked up a small eight page newspaper. “Printed at the base every -day,” he said. “It was printed on top here, till the hotel burned. All -the arrivals at the summit are put in daily.” - -“You write the story, Rob,” cried Art. “When will it be printed?” - -“Make it short, and I can telephone it down for to-morrow,” the man -said. - -“Fine! We’ll all take two copies,” said Peanut. “Save ’em for us. We’ll -be around here for two or three days. Hooray, we’re going to be in the -paper!” - -“You might all register over there while the story is being written,” -said the proprietor. - -Rob took a pencil and piece of paper and sat down by the stove to -write, while the rest walked over to the register. There were very few -entries for that day, as you can guess. The top of the page (the day -before) showed, however, the names of two automobile parties, who had -written, in large letters under their names, the make of the cars they -had come up the mountain in. - -“Gee, how silly,” said Art. - -“Wait,” said Peanut, his eyes twinkling, “till _I_ register.” - -He wrote his name last, and under it he printed, in big, heavy letters: - - _Smith and Jerome’s Shoes_. - -“There,” he cried, “that’s the motor _I_ came up in! Good ad. for -old Smith and Jerome, eh? Might as well advertise our Southmead -storekeepers.” - -The man with the bugle, who was standing behind the boys, peeked over -at the register, and roared with laughter. - -“You’re all right, kid!” he said. “I wish the motor parties could see -it. It would serve ’em right for boasting about owning a car. Besides, -that’s the lazy loafer’s way of climbing a mountain. If I were boss, -I’d dynamite the carriage road and the railroad, and then nobody could -get here but folks who knew how to walk.” - -“You’re like the man on Moosilauke,” said Lou. - -“I’m like all true mountaineers,” he answered. - -“And Scouts,” said Peanut. - -Rob had now finished a brief account of their adventure on the -Crawford Bridle Path, and the proprietor went up-stairs to find out the -name of the man they had rescued. The girl’s name they already knew. - -“Don’t say we rescued them, Rob,” Mr. Rogers cautioned. “Say they -overtook us at Monroe, and we all went on together, because we had -blankets and provisions.” - -“That’s what I have _said_,” laughed Rob. “But it doesn’t alter the -facts.” - -The proprietor came back with the name, and Rob added to the man with -the bugle, “And the names of your party, too?” - -“Say five trampers,” the other answered. “I’ll tell you our names -later. We aren’t essential to the story.” - -“But I would like to know why you have the bugle,” said Rob. - -“I’ll tell you that later, also,” the man laughed. - -Rob turned his little account over to the proprietor, and the party -left the warm house, and went out again into the cloud and the chilling -wind. - -It was almost like stepping out upon the deck of a ship in a heavy -fog. They could see the board walk ahead, as far as the railroad -platform--and that was all. The rest of the world was blotted out. The -wind was wailing in the telephone wires and through the beams of the -railroad trestle, just as it wails through the rigging of a ship. It -was getting dark, too. The boys shivered, and nobody suggested any -exploring. - -“Me for supper, and bunk,” said Peanut. - -They crossed the railroad with its cog rail between the two wheel -rails, and descended a long flight of steps. At the bottom was the end -of the carriage road, which they could see disappearing into the cloud -to the east, a barn on the left, chained down to the rocks, and on the -right a square, two-story building, the carriage house. - -Inside, a lamp was already lighted, and the four men who had come down -the mountain with the bugler, as well as the evident proprietor of the -house, were sitting about the stove, which was crammed with wood and -roaring hotly. - -“Well?” said the four, as the Scouts and the bugler entered. “Any more -people to go down and rescue?” - -The bugler shook his head. “Haven’t heard of any,” he said. “There’s -no word of any one else trying the Crawford Path to-day. Anybody that -tackled Tuckerman’s will certainly have had sense enough to stay in -the camp. That party who came over the Gulf Side this morning with us -decided to go down the carriage road, they tell me. I guess we’ve got -this place to ourselves.” - -“Oh, it’s a good, soft floor,” one of the men laughed. “You boys don’t -mind a good, soft floor, do you?” - -“Not a bit,” said Peanut. “I always sleep on the floor--prefer it, in -fact.” - -The others laughed, and the Scouts got off their packs, spread their -blankets out to dry, and took off their sweaters. - -Then everybody began to prepare for supper. The proprietor of the -coach house moved out a table, and put some boards across it to make -it larger. The Scouts compared provisions with the five trampers, and -found that the strangers had coffee which the boys were rather shy on, -and condensed milk, which the boys didn’t have at all, while the boys -had powdered eggs and dehydrated vegetables, which the strangers didn’t -have. There wasn’t time enough, however, to soak the vegetables. - -“You make us coffee, and we’ll make you an omelet,” said Art. “That’s a -fair swap. I’ll cook griddle cakes for the bunch.” - -“More than fair,” said the bugler. “It’s taking a whole meal from you -chaps, while we have more than enough coffee. Here, use some of our -minced ham in that omelet.” - -“Just the thing!” said Art. “We ate most of ours in the shelter.” He -began at once to mix the omelet. - -In a short time the party of eleven (the proprietor cooked his supper -later) sat down to the rough table, with bouillon cube soup first, -and then steaming coffee, omelet made with minced ham, griddle cakes -flavored with butter and sugar furnished by the proprietor, and sweet -chocolate for dessert. - -For a time nobody said much. The men and boys were all hungry, and they -were busy putting away the delicious hot food. - -“Nothing could keep me awake to-night,” said Peanut, presently. “May I -have another cup of coffee?” - -“Who else wants more?” asked the bugler, who was pouring. - -“Me,” said Art. - -“And me,” said the bugler. - -“And me,” said Mr. Rogers. - -“And me,” said one of the men. - -“And I,” said Rob, whereupon the rest all burst out laughing, and -Rob looked surprised, for he hadn’t intended to rebuke them by using -correct grammar. - -“You see the advantages of a college education, gentlemen,” cried Mr. -Rogers, while poor Rob turned red. - -It was a merry meal. After it was over, the five men pulled pipes out -of their pockets, and puffed contentedly, while the boys sat about the -stove, and Peanut said: - -“Now, Mr. Bugler, tell us why you have the bugle.” - -Much to the boys’ surprise, the man addressed blushed. - -“Gee, you boys will laugh at me!” he said, like a boy himself. “But -I’ll tell you. I toted this bugle up from Randolph yesterday. We came -in around through the Great Gulf, and up the Six Husbands’ Trail----” - -“Some trail, too!” the other four put in. - -“----and back over Adams to the Madison Hut. We spent last night -there, and came over the Gulf Side this morning. We’d reached Clay -before the bad weather hit us. The summit cone held it back. And we -got to the carriage road before it got so thick that you couldn’t see -at all. Lord, how the wind blew coming around Clay! Honestly, I didn’t -know if we could make it.” - -“But the bugle?” said Peanut. - -“Oh, yes, the bugle. I was forgetting the bugle, wasn’t I?” - -“You were--maybe,” said Peanut. - -The rest laughed. - -“Well, now I’ll tell you about the bugle,” the speaker went on. “When -I was in college a chap roomed next to me who could punt a football -farther than anybody I ever knew----” - -“How far?” asked Art. - -“Well, I’ve seen him cover seventy yards,” was the answer. - -“Some punt!” cried Peanut. “Did that make you buy a bugle?” - -“Say, who’s telling the story?” the man said. “No, it didn’t make me -buy a bugle, but this chap who could punt so far bought a cornet. What -do you suppose he bought a cornet for?” - -“I can’t imagine why _anybody_ should buy a cornet,” put in one of the -other men. - -“Shut up, Tom,” said the bugler. “Well, he bought a cornet so he -could learn to play it, and after he had learned to play it (keeping -everybody in the dormitory from studying while he learned, too!), he -spent a summer vacation in the Rocky Mountains, and carried that cornet -up to the highest peaks that he could climb, and played it. He learned -to play it just for that--just for the joy of hearing horn music float -out into the great spaces of the sky. Also, he made echoes with it -against the cliffs while he was climbing up. After that summer he never -played it again.” - -“Why didn’t he see how far he could punt a football from the top of -Pike’s Peak?” Peanut grinned. - -“He used up all his breath playing the cornet, and couldn’t blow up the -ball,” said the man. - -Lou wasn’t taking this story as a joke, however. “And you brought your -bugle up here, to play it from the top of Washington?” he asked. “I -think that’s fine. Gee, I wish you’d go out and play taps before we go -to bed!” - -The man looked at Lou keenly. “So _you_ understand!” he said. “These -Philistines with me don’t, and your young friend Peanut there doesn’t. -They have no music in their souls, have they? You and I will go outside -presently, and play taps to the circumambient atmosphere.” - -“Some language,” snickered Peanut. “What we’ll need isn’t taps, though, -but reveille to-morrow.” - -“Cheer up, you’ll get that all right,” the man laughed. - -They all sat for a while discussing the day’s adventure, and planning -for the next day, if it was clear. The five men were going down over -the Davis Path, and as that path leads along Boott Spur, the Scouts -decided to go with them, leaving them at the end of the spur, the -Scouts to descend for the night into Tuckerman’s Ravine, while the -others kept on southwest, over the Giant’s Stairs, to the lower end of -Crawford Notch. - -“But we want to visit the Lakes of the Clouds first,” said the Scout -Master. “We scarcely got a peep at ’em to-day.” - -“Suits us,” said the man called Tom. “We’ll have time, if we start -early. I’d like to see the Alpine garden myself.” - -“And now for taps,” cried the bugler. - -He and Lou got up, and went out-of-doors. The rest followed, but the -first pair slipped away quickly into the cloud, going down the carriage -road till the lamp of the coach house was invisible. - -The universe was deathly still save for the continual moaning of the -wind. There was nothing at all visible, either stars above, or valley -lamps below--nothing but a damp, chilly _white darkness_. Lou was -silent, awed. The man set his bugle to his lips, and blew--blew the -sweet, sad, solemn notes of taps. - -As they rose above the moaning of the wind and seemed to float off into -space, Lou’s heart tingled in his breast. As the last note died sweetly -away, there were tears in his eyes--he couldn’t say why. But something -about taps always made him sad, and now, in this strange setting up in -the clouds, the tears actually came. The man saw, and laid a hand in -silence on his shoulder. - -“You understand,” he said, presently, as they moved back up the road, -and that was all he said. - -Back in the coach house, the proprietor showed them all the available -cots up-stairs. There were two shy, so Art and Peanut insisted on -sleeping down-stairs by the stove. They wabbed up an extra blanket or -two for a bed, made their sweaters into pillows, and almost before the -lamp was blown out, they were as fast asleep as if they had been lying -on feathers. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -DOWN TUCKERMAN’S RAVINE - - -But while it is comparatively easy to go to sleep on the floor, it is -not so easy to stay asleep on it. Both Art and Peanut awoke more than -once during the night, and shifted to the other shoulder. Finally, -toward morning, Art got up and tiptoed to the window, to look out. He -came back and shook Peanut. - -“Whaz-a-matter?” said Peanut, sleepily. - -“Get up, and I’ll show you,” Art whispered. - -Peanut roused himself, and joined Art at the window. - -Outside the stars were shining! But that was not all. Art pointed down -the carriage road, and far below, on the black shadow of the mountain -Peanut saw what looked like bobbing stars fallen to the ground. These -stars were evidently drawing nearer. - -“Well, what do you make of that!” he exclaimed. - -“Bless me if I know. It’s evidently somebody coming up the road with -lanterns.” - -The two boys slipped noiselessly into their shoes, and struck a match -to look at their watches. - -“Quarter to four,” said Art. “The sun will rise in half an hour. Gee, -I’d like to get that bugle and wake ’em up!” - -“The owner’s using it himself, I should say,” whispered Peanut, as the -sound of a snore came from the room above. They looked about, but the -man had evidently taken his bugle up-stairs with him, so they slipped -out through the door to investigate the bobbing lanterns coming up the -mountain. - -It was cold outside, and still dark, but they could make out dimly -the track of the carriage road, and walked down it. The lanterns were -drawing nearer, and now they could hear voices. A moment later, and -they met the lantern bearers, a party of nearly a dozen men and women. - -“Hello, boys! Where did you drop from?” cried the man in the lead, -suddenly spying Art and Peanut. - -“Where did you come up from?” Peanut replied. - -“We walked up from the Glen cottage to see the sunrise,” the other -replied. - -“Oh, dear, I should say we did!” sighed a woman in the party. “If you -ever catch me climbing a mountain again in the middle of the night, -send me to Matteawan at once.” - -“Cheer up, Lizzie, we’ll have some sandwiches pretty soon,” somebody -told her. - -“Sandwiches for breakfast! Worse and worse!” she sighed. “I don’t -believe there’s going to be any sunrise, either. I don’t see any signs -of it.” - -“Let’s shake this bunch,” Art whispered to Peanut. “They give me a -pain.” - -The boys ran back, ahead, to the coach house, entered once more, and -bolted the door behind them, lest the new party try to get in. - -“Golly, we’ve _got_ to get that bugle, and have the laugh on whatever -his name is--he didn’t tell us, did he? I’m going up after it,” said -Peanut. - -He kicked off his shoes, and started on tiptoe up the stairs. Art heard -the floor creak overhead, and then he heard a smothered laugh. - -A moment later the man appeared with the bugle in one hand, and -Peanut’s ear in the other. Peanut was still attached to the ear, and he -was trying hard not to laugh out loud. - -“Caught you red-handed,” said the man. “Hello, there, Art! You up too? -How’s the weather?” - -“Fine,” said Art. “Come on out and wake ’em all up.” - -The man looked at his watch, then at the sky through the window. The -east was already light. The stars were paling. You could see out over -the bare rock heaps of the mountain top. - -“Come on!” he said. - -The three went outdoors. The party with lanterns had already passed the -coach house and climbed the steps to the summit. They could be heard up -there, talking. The man and the boys went around to the south of the -coach house, out of sight of the summit, and setting his bugle to his -lips, tipping it upward toward the now rosy east, the man pealed out -the gay, stirring notes of reveille. - -“Oh, do it again!” cried Peanut. “Gee, I like it up here! I know now -why you brought the bugle.” - -The man smiled, and blew reveille again. - -Before the last notes had died away, they heard stampings in the house -behind them, and cries of “Can it!” “Say, let a feller sleep, won’t -you?” “Aw, cut out the music!” - -“Get up, you stiffs, and see the sun rise!” shouted Peanut. “Going to -be a grand day!” - -Five minutes later the Scouts and the men were all out of the coach -house, on the rocks beside Art and Peanut. - -“It _is_ a good day, that’s a fact,” said Mr. Rogers. “Where’s the best -place to see the sun rise?” - -“I’d suggest the top of the mountain,” said the bugler. - -It was light now. The east was rosy, and as they looked down southward -over the piles of bare, tumbled rock toward Tuckerman’s Ravine, they -could see masses of white cloud, like cotton batting. Up the steps -they all hurried, and found the lantern party eating sandwiches in the -shelter of the Tip Top House, out of the wind. - -“They’d rather eat than see the sun rise,” sniffed Art. - -“Maybe you would, if you’d spent the night walking up the carriage -road,” laughed somebody. - -Peanut led the way to the highest rock he could find, and they looked -out upon the now fast lightening world. - -Northward, far out beyond the great shoulders of the mountain, they -could see glimpses of the lower hills and valleys. But all nearer the -mountain was hidden by the low white cloud beneath their feet. To the -northeast and east was nothing but cloud, about a thousand feet below -them. The same was true to the south. Southwestward, over the long -shoulders of the Crawford Bridle Path, where they had climbed the day -before, lay the same great blanket of white wool. - -“Say, this peak of Washington looks just like a great rock island in -the sea,” cried Lou. - -Now the world was almost bright as day. The east was rosy, the upper -sky blue, the stars gone. The great white ocean of cloud below them -heaved and eddied under the gusts of northwest wind which swept down -from the summit, wherever a wave crest rose above the level. The sun, a -great red ball, appeared in the east, and the bugler set his bugle to -his lips and blew a long blast of welcome. - -It was a wonderful, a beautiful spectacle. As they watched, the clouds -below them heaved and stirred, and seemed to thin out here and there, -and suddenly to the northeast a second rock island, shaped like a -pyramid, appeared to rise out of the pink and white sea. - -“Hello, there’s Jefferson!” cried one of the men. - -Then a second island, also a peak of bare rock, rose beyond Jefferson. - -“And there’s Adams,” said Mr. Rogers. - -“And there’s Madison,” said the bugler, as a third peak rose up from -the cloud sea, beyond Adams. - -“What is between those peaks and the shoulder of Washington I see -running northeast?” asked Frank. - -“The Great Gulf,” one of the men replied. “There must have been a heavy -dew in the Gulf last night. It’s packed full of clouds.” - -“Probably got soaked with the rain yesterday, too,” somebody else said. -“The clouds will get out of it before long, though. They are coming up -fast.” - -Even as he spoke, one rose like a long, white finger over the head wall -of the Gulf, stretched out to the gray water-tanks of the railroad and -almost before any one could speak, it blew cold into the faces of the -party on the summit. - -“Hello, cloud!” said Peanut, making a swipe with his hand at the white -mist. “Does that mean bad weather again?” he added. - -[Illustration: Cataract of clouds pouring over the Northern Peaks into -the Great Gulf, seen from the summit of Mount Washington] - -“No, they’re just rising from the gulfs. They’ll blow off before we -start, I fancy,” one of the trampers said. “It’s the clouds which -come down, or come from the plains, which make the trouble. Come on, -breakfast now! If we are going to make a side trip to the Lakes of the -Clouds with you Scouts, we’ve got to get an early start, for our path -down over the Giant’s Stairs is fifteen or twenty miles long, and hard -to find, in the bargain.” - -As they went, however, a look away from the sun showed the shadow of -Washington cast over the clouds westward as far as the eye could see. -Peanut waved his arm. “The shadow of that gesture was on the side of -Lafayette!” he cried. - -Breakfast was prepared as quickly as possible, the boys furnishing -powdered eggs, the men bacon and coffee. Then, after they had paid -the keeper of the coach house for their night’s lodging, the combined -parties shouldered packs, went back up the steps in a thin white cloud, -stocked up with sweet chocolate at the Tip Top House, and still in the -cloud set off southwest down the summit cone, by the Crawford Bridle -Path. - -The descent was rapid. The cone is a thousand feet high, but they were -soon on Bigelow Lawn, and though the white mists were still coming -up over the ridge from the gulfs below, they were thin here, and the -sunlight flashed in, and below them they could see the green intervale -of Bretton Woods, shining in full morning light. - -“Rather more cheerful than yesterday,” said Frank. - -“Ra-_ther_,” cried Peanut. - -At the junction of the Boott Spur Trail, everybody unloaded all -baggage, and the packs and blankets were piled under a boulder. Then -they hurried on down the Bridle Path, past the refuge hut which had -been such a friend the day before, and soon reached the larger of the -two Lakes of the Clouds, which lies just north of the Crawford Trail, -on the very edge of the Monroe-Washington col, exactly two miles below -the summit. The larger lake is perhaps half an acre in extent, the -smaller hardly a third of that size. - -“These lakes are the highest east of the Rocky Mountains,” said Mr. -Rogers. “They are 5,053 feet above sea level.” - -“And a deer has been drinking in this one,” said Art, pointing to a -hoof mark in the soft, deep moss at the margin. - -“Sure enough!” one of the men said. “He must have come up from timber -line, probably over from Oakes Gulf.” - -“You remember, boys,” Mr. Rogers said, “that I told you I was going to -show you the head waters of a river? Well, we saw one at the Crawford -House--the head of the Saco. This lake is one of the head waters -of the Ammonoosuc, which is the biggest northern tributary of the -Connecticut.” - -“It’s a bit cleaner than the Connecticut is at Hartford or -Springfield,” laughed Rob. “My, it’s like pure glass! Look, you can see -every stick and piece of mica on the bottom.” - -“And it’s cold, too!” cried Art, as he dipped his hand in. - -“Now, let’s look at the Alpine wild flowers as we go back,” said the -bugler. “They are what interest me most.” - -The party turned toward the path again, and they became aware that -almost every crevice between the loose stones was full of rich moss of -many kinds, and this moss had made bits of peaty soil in which the wild -flowers grew. There were even a few dwarfed spruces, three or four feet -high, all around the border of the lake. - -The wild flowers were now in full bloom. - -“It’s spring up here, you know, in early July,” said the bugler. “Look -at all those white sandwort blossoms, like a snow-storm. What pretty -little things they are, like tiny white cups.” - -“What’s the yellow one?” asked Lou, who was always interested in plants. - -“That’s the geum,” the man replied. “Look at the root leaves--they are -just like kidneys.” - -“It’s everywhere,” said Lou. “Look, it even grows in cracks half-way up -the rocks.” - -The man also pointed out the tiny stars of the Houstonia, which -interested the boys, because their Massachusetts home was near the -Housatonic River. But the botanist assured them that there was no -connection between the names, the flower being named for a botanist -named Houston, while the river’s name is Indian. - -There were several other kinds of flowers here, too, as well as -grasses, and conspicuous among them was the Indian poke, sticking up -its tall stalk three feet in the boggy hollows between rocks, its roots -in the wet tundra moss, with yellowish-green blossoms at the top. - -“Well, who’d ever guess so many things could live way up here, on the -rocks!” Lou exclaimed. “But I like the little sandwort best. That’s the -one which gets nearest the top of Washington, isn’t it?” - -“It’s the only one which gets there, except the grass, I believe,” the -bugler answered. - -Everybody picked a few sandwort cups, and stuck them in his hat band -or buttonhole, and thus arrayed they reached once more the junction of -the Boott Spur Trail, shouldered packs, and set off southward, down the -long, rocky shoulder of the spur, which pushes out from the base of the -summit cone. - -The sun was now high. The clouds had stopped coming up over the head -walls of the ravines. They could see for miles, even to the blue -ramparts of Lafayette and Moosilauke in the west and southwest. -Directly south they looked over a billowing sea of mountains and green, -forest-covered valleys, a wilderness in which there was no sign of -human beings. To their left was the deep hole of Tuckerman’s Ravine, -gouged out of the solid rock. Only the very summit of Washington behind -them still wore a hood of white vapor. - -It was only three-quarters of a mile to the nose of the spur, and they -were soon there. Here the two parties were to divide, the boys going -down to the left into the yawning hole of Tuckerman’s Ravine, which -they could now see plainly, directly below them, the other trampers -turning to the southwest, for their long descent over the Davis Path -and the Montalban range. At the nose of the spur was a big cairn, and -out of it the bugler fished an Appalachian Mountain Club cylinder, -opened it, and disclosed the register, upon which they all wrote their -names. Then they all shook hands, the bugler blew a long blast on his -bugle, and the Scouts watched their friends of the night go striding -off down the Davis Path. - -“Now, where do _we_ go?” asked Art. - -Mr. Rogers pointed down into Tuckerman’s Ravine, the wooded floor of -which, sheltering the dark mirror of Hermit Lake, lay over fifteen -hundred feet below them. - -“Golly, where’s your parachute?” said Peanut. - -“We don’t need a parachute,” Mr. Rogers laughed. “Here’s the path.” - -The boys looked over into the pit. Across the ravine rose another -precipitous wall, with a lump at the end called the Lion’s Head. The -ravine itself was like a long, narrow horseshoe cut into the rocky side -of Mount Washington--a horseshoe more than a thousand feet deep. They -were on one side of the open end. - -“Well, here goes!” cried Peanut, and he began to descend. - -At first the trail went down over a series of levels, or steps, close -to the edge of the precipice. At one point this precipice seemed -actually to hang out over the gulf below, and it seemed as if they -could throw a stone into Hermit Lake. - -Peanut tried it, in fact, but the stone sailed out, descended, and -disappeared, as if under the wall. - -“These are the hanging cliffs,” said Mr. Rogers. “We’ll go down faster -soon.” - -Presently the path did swing back to the left, and began to drop right -down the cliff side. The cliff wall wasn’t quite so steep as it had -looked from above, and the path was perfectly possible for travel; but -it was the steepest thing they had tackled yet, nonetheless, and it -kept them so busy dropping down the thousand feet or more to the ravine -floor that they could barely take time to glance at the great, white -mass of snow packed into the semi-shadow under the head wall. - -“Say, we are making some time, though!” Peanut panted, as he dropped -his own length from one rock to the next. - -“Faster’n you’d make coming back,” laughed Lou. - -The path soon dropped them into scrub spruce, which had climbed up -the ravine side to meet them, and this stiff spruce grew taller and -taller as they descended, till in less than fifteen minutes they were -once more--for the first time since leaving the side of Clinton--in -the woods. At the bottom of the cliff the path leveled out, crossed a -brook twice, and brought them suddenly into another trail, leading up -into the head of the ravine. Almost opposite was a sign pointing down -another path to the Appalachian Mountain Club camp. - -“We’ll leave our stuff there at the camp,” said Mr. Rogers, “and go see -the snow arch before lunch, eh?” - -“You bet!” the boys cried. - -It was only a few minutes after ten. They had started so early from the -summit of Washington that they still had the better part of the day -before them. A few steps brought them to the camp, which was a log and -bark lean-to, with the back and sides enclosed, built facing the six or -eight foot straight side of a huge boulder. This boulder side was black -with the smoke of many fires. It was no more than four feet away from -the front of the lean-to, so that a big fire, built against it, would -throw back a lot of warmth right into the shelter. All about the hut -were beautiful thick evergreens. - -“That’s a fine idea!” Art exclaimed. “You not only have your fire -handy, and sheltered completely from the wind, but you get the full -heat of it. Say, we must build a camp just like this when we get back!” - -“Somebody was here last night,” said Rob, inspecting the ashes in the -stone fire pit. “Look, they are still wet. Soused their fire, all -right.” - -“And left a bed of boughs--for two,” added Peanut, peeping into the -shelter. - -“Let’s leave our stuff, so we’ll have first call on the cabin -to-night,” somebody else put in. “Will it be safe, though?” - -“Sure,” the Scout Master said--“safe from people, anyhow. The folks who -tramp up here are honest, I guess. But I don’t trust the hedgehogs too -far. The last time I slept in Tuckerman’s, five or six years ago, two -of us camped out on the shore of Hermit Lake, and the hedgehogs ate -holes in our rubber ponchos while we slept.” - -“Say, you must have slept hard--and done some dreaming!” laughed Peanut. - -“Fact,” said Mr. Rogers; “cross my heart, hope to die!” - -“Well, then let’s hang our blankets over this string,” said Art, -indicating a stout cord strung near the roof from the two sides of the -shelter. - -They hung their blankets over the cord, stacked their packs in a -corner, and set off up the trail toward the head wall of the ravine, -nearly a mile away. - -A few steps brought them to a sight of Hermit Lake, a pretty little -sheet of water which looked almost black, it was so shallow and clear, -with dark leaf-mould forming the bottom. It was entirely surrounded by -the dark spires of the mountain spruces, and held their reflections -like a mirror, and behind them the reflections of the great rocky walls -of the ravine sides, and then the blue of the sky. - -The path now began to ascend the inclined floor of the ravine, and the -full grandeur of the spectacle burst upon the boys. Even Peanut was -silent. It was the most impressive spot they had ever been in. - -To their left the cliffs shot up a thousand feet to Boott Spur, to -their right they went up almost as high to the Lion’s Head. And -directly in front of them, curved in a semicircle, like the wall of -a stadium, and carved out of the solid rock of the mountain, was the -great head wall, in the half shadow at its base a huge snow-bank -glimmering white, on the tenth day of July. Above the snow-bank the -rocks glistened and sparkled with hundreds of tiny water streams. All -about, at the feet of the cliffs, and even down the floor of the ravine -to the boys, lay piled up in wild confusion great heaps of rock masses, -the debris hurled down from the precipitous walls by centuries of frost -and storm. - -“It looks like a gigantic natural colosseum,” said Lou. “The head wall -is curved just like the pictures of the Colosseum in our Roman history.” - -“Right-o,” cried Peanut. “Say, what a place to stage a gladiator fight, -eh? Sit your audience all up on the debris at the bottoms of the -cliffs.” - -“And have your gladiators come out from under the snow arch,” laughed -Mr. Rogers. - -“Sure,” said Peanut. - -They now came to the snow arch, which is formed every June under the -head wall, and sometimes lasts as late as August. The winter storms, -from the northwest, blow the snow over Bigelow Lawn above, and pack it -down into Tuckerman’s Ravine, in a huge drift two hundred feet deep. -This drift gradually melts down, packs into something pretty close to -ice, and the water trickling from the cliff behind joins into a brook -beneath it and hollows out an arch. - -The Scouts now stood before the drift. It was perhaps eight or ten -feet deep at the front now, and a good deal deeper at the back. It was -something like three hundred feet wide, they reckoned, and extended out -from the cliff from sixty to a hundred feet. The arch was about in the -centre, and the brook was flowing out from beneath it. - -“Look!” cried Art, “a few rods down-stream the alders are all in leaf, -nearer they are just coming out, and here by the edge they are hardly -budded!” - -“That’s right,” said Lou. “I suppose as the ice melts back, spring -comes to ’em.” - -Rob put his hand in the brook. “Gee, I don’t blame ’em,” he said; “it’s -free ice water, all right.” - -“Come on into the ice cave,” Peanut exclaimed, starting forward. - -Mr. Rogers grabbed him. “No, you don’t!” he cried. “People used to do -that, till one day some years ago it caved in, and killed a boy under -it. You’ll just look in.” - -Peanut poked at the edge of the roof with his staff. It looked like -snow, but it was hard as ice. “Gee, that won’t cave in!” said he. - -“Just the same, we’re taking no chances,” said the Scout Master. - -So the Scouts tried to content themselves with peeking into the cold, -crystal cave, out of which came the tinkle of dripping water from the -dangling icicles on the roof, and a breath of damp, chilling air. It -was like standing at the door of a huge refrigerator. - -Then they climbed up the path a few steps, on the right of the drift, -and made snowballs with the brittle, mushy moraine-stuff on the -surface, which was quite dirty, with moss and rock dust blown over from -the top of Washington. - -“Snowballs in July!” cried Peanut, letting one fly at Art, who had -walked out on the drift. - -Art retaliated by washing Peanut’s face. - -It was getting close to noon now, and the party started back to camp. -Hermit Lake was first inspected as a possible swimming pool, but given -up because of the boggy nature of the shores. Instead, everybody took -one chill plunge in the ice water of the little river which came down -from the snow arch, and then they rubbed themselves to a pink glow, and -started for the camp. Before they reached camp, Art sniffed, and said, -“Smoke! Somebody’s got a fire.” - -A second later, they heard voices, and came upon two men, building a -fire against the boulder in front of the shelter. - -“Hello, boys. This your stuff?” one of the men said. He was a tall, -thin man, with colored goggles and a pointed beard. The other man was -short and stout. - -“Sure is,” Peanut answered. - -“Well, we’re going on after lunch. Won’t bother you to-night,” the men -said. “Don’t mind our being here for lunch, do you?” - -“Depends on what you’ve got to eat,” said Peanut, with a laugh. - -“Not much,” the tall man answered. “Enough for two men, but not enough -for a huge person like yourself.” - -Peanut grinned, as the laugh was on him, and the boys set about getting -their lunch ready, also. - -The two newcomers had come up from Jackson that morning, they said, and -were bound for the top of Washington via the head wall of Huntington -Ravine. They spoke as if the head wall of Huntington were something not -lightly to be tackled, and of course the boys were curious at once. - -“Where’s Huntington?” asked Art. “Mr. Rogers, you’ve never told us -about that.” - -“I never was there myself,” said Mr. Rogers. “I can’t have been -_everywhere_, you know.” - -“Well, neither have I been there,” said the tall, thin man, “but my -friend here has, once, and he alleges that it’s the best climb in the -White Mountains.” - -“Hooray, let us go, too!” cried Peanut. - -Mr. Rogers smiled. “We’ll go along with these gentlemen, if they don’t -mind, and have a look at it,” he said, “but I guess we’ll leave the -climbing to them. I don’t believe I want to lug any of you boys home -on a stretcher.” - -“Aw, stretcher nothin’!” said Peanut. “I guess if other folks climb -there, we can!” - -The short, stout man’s eyes twinkled. “Maybe when you see it you won’t -be so keen,” he said. “Come along with us and have a look.” - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -Up the Huntington Head Wall - - -Luncheon over, the two men packed their knapsacks again, while Art put -some dehydrated spinach in a pot to soak for supper. He covered the pot -carefully, and stood it in the ashes of the fire, where it would get -the heat from the rock, even though the fire was put out. Then falling -into line behind the two men, the boys and Mr. Rogers started off, -apparently going backward away from the mountain down the path toward -Crystal Cascades and the Glen road. - -“We just came up here,” the tall man said. “Came out of our way a bit -to see the shelter camp, as I want to build one like it near my home.” - -“So do we,” said the Scouts. - -The two men walked very fast, so that the boys had hard work to keep up -with them. They were evidently trained mountain climbers. After half a -mile of descent, they swung to the left, by the Raymond Path, and after -a quarter of a mile of travel toward the northeast, they swung still -again to the left, up the Huntington Ravine Trail, and headed back -almost directly at right angles, toward the northwest, where the cone -of Washington was, though it could not be seen. The path now ascended -again, rather rapidly, and the Scouts puffed along behind the tall man -and his stout companion, who walked just about as fast up-hill as they -did down. - -“Say!” called Peanut, “is there a fire in the ravine?” - -The tall man laughed. “Sure,” he said. “Four alarms!” - -A mile or more of climbing brought them into the ravine. It was not so -large as Tuckerman’s, and it had no lake embosomed in its rocky depths, -but in some ways it was an even wilder and more impressive spot. On -the right, to the east, the cliff wall rose up much steeper than in -Tuckerman’s, to Nelson’s Crag. On the west, also, the wall was almost -perpendicular, while the jagged and uneven head wall, which did not -form the beautiful amphitheatre curve of Tuckerman’s head wall, and had -no snow arch at its base, looked far harder to climb. - -“Wow!” said Peanut. “You win. I don’t want to climb here.” - -“Why, it’s easy. You can climb where other folks have,” said the stout -man, with a wink. “Folks have climbed all three of these cliffs.” - -“That one to the left?” asked Peanut. - -“Sure,” said the man. - -“What with, an aeroplane?” - -“With hobnail boots,” said the other. - -“I guess they had pretty good teeth and finger nails, also,” Frank put -in. - -A half mile more, and the trail ended at a great mass of debris and -broken rocks piled up in the shape of a fan at the base of the head -wall. - -“This is called the Fan,” said the stout man. “Here’s where the job -begins. Goodbye, boys.” - -“Oh, let’s go up a way!” cried Art. “If they can do it, we can.” - -“Sure,” said Peanut, as he saw the two men begin to climb carefully -over the broken fragments of the Fan. - -“Oh, please!” the rest cried. - -“Well, just a short way,” Mr. Rogers reluctantly consented, “if you’ll -agree to come down when I give the order. We have no ropes, and we are -none of us used to rock climbing. I won’t take the risk. If we had -ropes and proper spiked staffs, it would be different.” - -The Scouts, with a shout, started up behind the two men, who had now -ceased their rapid walking, and were going very slowly and carefully. -The boys soon found out why. The footing on the rocky debris of the Fan -was extremely treacherous, and you had to keep your eyes on every step, -and test your footing. - -About fifty yards before the top of the Fan was reached, the two -climbers ahead turned to the right, and made their way along a shelf -on the ledge which they called a “lead,” toward a patch of scrub. One -by one, the boys followed them, using extreme caution on the narrow -shelf. At the patch of scrub, they could look on up the head wall, and -see that the mass of rocks which made the Fan had been brought down by -frost and water in a landslide from the top, and made a gully all the -way to the summit. To climb the wall, you had to use this gully. It -looked quite hopeless, but the stout man started right up, the tall man -following him, zigzagging from one lead, or shelf, to another. The boys -followed. - -“Gee,” said Peanut, “wish it hadn’t rained so lately. These rocks are -slippery. And I don’t like walking with the ground in my face all the -time.” - -“I think it’s fun,” said Art. - -“Me, too,” said Frank. “But I don’t like to look back, though.” - -They followed two or three leads up the gully, till they were perhaps -a hundred or a hundred and fifty feet above the floor of the ravine -below. Then Mr. Rogers, looking up, saw Peanut, in the lead, looking -about for the next lead, and, after finding it, trying with his short -legs to straddle the gap between it and the spot where he stood. His -foot slipped, and if Art hadn’t been firmly braced right behind him, -so that he threw his shoulder under, Peanut would have fallen off. - -“Here’s where we stop!” said the Scout Master. - -Peanut was rather white with the sudden shock of slipping. Still, he -looked longingly up the gully, toward the two climbers above, and said, -“Aw, no, let’s go on a little further!” - -“Not a step--remember your promise,” Mr. Rogers declared. - -The boys turned reluctantly, and started down. They found it far harder -than going up. Going up, you didn’t see that almost sheer drop below -you. But going the other way, you had to see it at every step, and it -made you constantly realize how easy it would be to fall. - -Lou grew very pale, and paused on a wide bit of shelf. “I’m dizzy,” he -said. “Let me stand here a minute. I can’t help it. Makes me dizzy to -look down.” - -Frank was directly in front of him below. - -“You keep braced after every step, Frank,” said the Scout Master, “and -let Lou take his next step to you each time before you take another. -Better now, Lou? You’ll be all right. Just keep your eye on your feet, -and don’t look off.” - -They started down once more, and after at least fifteen minutes reached -the Fan in safety and then the floor of the ravine. Lou sat down -immediately looking, as Peanut said, “some seasick.” - -“I guess I was never cut out for rock climbing,” poor Lou declared. “I -wouldn’t have gone, and worried you, Mr. Rogers, if I’d known it would -make me dizzy like that.” - -“You’d probably get used to it,” the Scout Master answered, “but I -guess we’ll not experiment any more just now, where there’s no path. -Look, our friends are almost up.” - -The boys, who had forgotten the two men, turned and saw them far above, -working carefully toward the summit of the wall. They shouted, and -waved their hats, and the men waved back, though the Scouts could hear -no voices. - -“Gee, and folks have climbed those side walls, too, eh?” said Peanut. -“Believe me, real mountain climbing is some work!” - -“It is, surely,” Mr. Rogers said. “But in the Alps, of course, people -go roped together, and if one falls, the rest brace and the rope holds -him. How would you like to climb that gully if it was all ice and snow -instead of rock, and you had to cut steps all the way with an ice ax, -for ten thousand feet?” - -“Say, there’d have to be a pretty big pile of twenty dollar gold pieces -waiting at the top,” answered Peanut. - -“Oh, get out,” said Art. “That isn’t what makes folks climb such -places. It’s the fun of getting where nobody ever got before--just -saying, ‘You old cliff, you can’t stump me!’ isn’t it, Mr. Rogers?” - -“About that, I guess,” the Scout Master replied. “There’s some -fascination about mountain climbing which makes men risk their lives -at it all over the globe, every year, on cliffs beside which this one -would look like a canoe beside the Mauretania. I’m glad we’ve had a -taste of real climbing this afternoon, anyhow, to see what it’s like. -Look, the men have reached the top, and are waving good-bye.” - -The boys waved back, and as the men disappeared from sight, they -themselves moved slowly down the trail, toward the Raymond Path, -looking up with a new respect at the walls on either side, and -speculating how they could be climbed. Consulting the Appalachian -Mountain Club guide book, they found no description of how to get -up the west wall, but the ascent of the eastern wall, to Nelson’s -Crag, which was called “the most interesting rock climb in the White -Mountains,” was described briefly. The Scouts easily identified the -gully up which the ascent must be made, but nobody seemed very eager to -make it. - -“No, sir,” said Peanut, “not for me, till I’ve had more practice on -cliff work, and have bigger hobnails in my shoes, and can keep right on -up.” - -“Still,” said Frank, “people who go up places like that in the Alps -have to come down again.” - -“Sure they do,” Peanut replied, “but they’re used to it. The older I -grow, the more I realize it doesn’t pay to tackle a job till you’re up -to it.” - -“Hear Grandpa talk!” laughed Frank. “You’d think he was fifty-three.” - -“He’s talking horse sense, though,” the Scout Master put in. “When we -get home, we’ll go over to the cliffs on Monument Mountain some day, -with a rope, and get some practice. As a matter of fact, those cliffs, -though they are only two hundred feet high, are steeper than these -here, and you haven’t any gully to go up, either. We’ll get some Alpine -work right at home.” - -“I’ll stay at the bottom, and catch you when you fall off,” said Lou, -with a rather crooked smile. “Gee, to think I’d go dizzy like a girl!” - -“Forget it, Lou,” Peanut cheered him. “’Twasn’t your fault, any more’n -getting seasick.” - -The afternoon shadows were all across Tuckerman’s Ravine when the -boys once more reached the camp. It was not yet five o’clock, and out -behind them the green summits of Carter and Wildcat and Moriah across -the Glen, and all the peaks to the south and east, were bathed in full -sunlight; but down in the great hole of the ravine the shadow of Boott -Spur had risen half-way up the east wall toward the Lion’s Head, and it -seemed like twilight. - -“Makes me want supper,” Frank laughed. - -“I got an idea,” said Peanut. “Let’s take a loaf. Let’s just sit around -the camp-fire till supper, and do nothing.” - -“Let’s cut our mileage on our staffs,” said Art. - -“Hooray!” - -Somebody lit the fire, for already the twilight chill was creeping down -from the snow-bank, and Art put the pot of dehydrated spinach on to -simmer. Then everybody got out his knife and cut mileage. - -“Only nine miles for yesterday!” said Art. “And think of the work we -did.” - -“One mile against that hurricane is about equal to fifteen on the -level, I guess,” said Peanut. “Shall we call it eight plus fifteen?” - -“You can, if you want to be a nature fakir,” Rob answered. “What’s the -total to-day? Who’s got the guide book?” - -“Let’s see,” said Frank, turning the pages. “Two miles from the summit -to the Lakes of the Clouds, half a mile back to Boott Spur Trail, from -the junction with the Crawford Path over the spur to here, two and a -half miles--that’s five. Then from here to the snow arch and back, one -and a half--six and a half. Then a quarter of a mile to Raymond Path, -half a mile to Huntington Trail, two miles to the Fan; double it and -you get five miles and a half. That makes twelve miles, not counting -our climb of the head wall, or what we’ll do later to-day.” - -“Guess we’ll not do much more,” said Peanut. - -“Sure, we’ll walk up the ravine and see the snow arch by moonlight. -Add a mile and a half more,” said Art. “Grand total, thirteen and a -half. Golly, you can get fairly tired doing thirteen miles on Mount -Washington, can’t you?” - -“And tolerably hungry,” said Frank. “That spinach smells good to me.” - -“We’re going to have bacon, and an omelet, and spinach, and tea, and -flapjacks,” said Art. “Doesn’t that sound good?” - -“Well, go ahead and get ’em ready,” Peanut said, flopping backward upon -the old hemlock boughs in the shelter, and immediately closing his eyes. - -Nobody did nor said much for the next hour. There came one of those -lazy lulls which hit you once in so often when you are tramping, and -you just naturally lie back and take life easy, half asleep, half -awake. It was half-past five, and getting dusky in the ravine, when -suddenly a hermit thrush in the firs right behind the cabin emitted a -peal of song, so startling in its nearness and beauty that every one of -the six dozers roused with a start. - -“Say, that’s some Caruso!” exclaimed Peanut. He rubbed his eyes, and -added, “What’s the matter with you, Art? Where’s supper? You’re fired!” - -Art laughed, and jumped out of the shelter, giving orders as he went. - -“Water, Lou. Rob and Frank, more wood. Peanut, you lazy stiff, get out -the bacon and light the lantern. Mr. Rogers, more boughs for the beds.” - -“Yes, sir,” the others laughed, as they scattered quickly on their -errands. - -It was dark when supper was ready, and outside of the cozy shelter -of the cabin and the great boulder facing it, with the fire burning -briskly, it was cold. The boys had all put on their sweaters. But the -boulder threw the warmth of the fire back under the lean-to, and they -sat along the edge of it, their plates on their laps, the fragrance of -new steeped tea in their nostrils, and of sizzling bacon, and made a -meal which tasted like ambrosia. The spinach was an especial luxury, -for this time it had soaked long enough to be soft and palatable. Their -only regret was that Art hadn’t cooked more of it. - -“Let’s soak some over night, and have it for breakfast,” Peanut -suggested, amid hoots of derision from the rest. - -“We’ll have fresh bread, though,” said Art. “I’m going to bake some in -a tin box somebody has left here in a corner of the hut.” - -“How’ll you make bread without yeast?” asked Rob. - -Art produced a little sack of baking powder from his pack. “With this, -and powdered milk, and powdered egg,” he answered. “You make me up a -good fire of coals, and I’ll show you.” - -He mixed the dough while the rest were clearing up the supper things, -greased his tin box (after it had been thoroughly washed with boiling -water) with bacon fat, and put the dough in to rise. “I’ll leave it -half an hour to raise,” he said, “and go with you fellows up to see the -snow arch. Then I’ve got to come back and bake it.” - -It was moonlight when they set out for the head of the ravine, but the -light was not strong enough to make the path easy, nor to take away -the sense of gigantic black shadows towering up where the walls ought -to be. Peanut tried shouting, to get an echo, but his voice sounded -so small and foolish in this great, yawning hole of shadows in the -mountainside, that he grinned rather sheepishly, and shut up. - -The “baby glacier,” as Rob called the snow-drift, was like a white -shadow at the foot of the head wall. They could hear the brook tinkling -beneath it, but not so loud as by day. When the sun goes down, the -melting stops to a very considerable extent. And it was very cold near -the icy bank. The boys shivered, and turned back toward camp. - -“We’ll go with you, Art, and see you bake that bread,” said Rob. - -But they didn’t. While Art went on, the rest made a side trip in to -Hermit Lake, to see the reflections of the moon and stars in the glassy -water. Not one, but a dozen hermit thrushes were singing now in the -thickets of fir. It was lonesome, and cold, but very beautiful here, -and the bird songs rang out like fairy clarions. - -“This is as lonely as the Lake of the Dismal Swamp,” Rob remarked, “and -as beautiful.” - -“It’s a heap sight colder, though,” said Peanut, shivering. - -Back in camp, they found Art with his tin of bread dough propped on -edge in front of a great bed of coals, with coals banked behind it and -on the sides. The others kicked off their shoes and stockings, put on -their heavy night socks, rolled up in their blankets under the lean-to, -and, propped upon their elbows, watched Art tending his bread, while -they talked in low tones. - -One by one the voices died away to silence. Finally Rob and Mr. Rogers -were the only ones awake. Then Mr. Rogers asked Rob a question, and got -no answer. He smiled. - -“Well, Art,” he said, “all the rest seem to think you can get -that bread baked without their help. I guess I can trust you, too. -Good-night.” - -“Good-night,” said Art. “They’ll be glad to eat it in the morning, -though!” - -But Mr. Rogers didn’t reply. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -THE GIANT’S BEDCLOTHES - - -Everybody was awake early the next morning, and glad to get up, for -Tuckerman’s Ravine can be very cold, even in mid-July, and all the boys -had huddled together unconsciously in the night, for mutual warmth. -Art’s suggestion that they take a morning dip in the waters of the -Cutler River wasn’t hailed with much enthusiasm. - -“You know, it doesn’t get exactly _warm_ in the mile between here and -where it comes out of the snow arch,” said Frank, with a shiver. - -“I want a bath, all right,” said Peanut, “but I don’t want a -refrigerator for a bathroom and ice water in the tub. I’m no polar -bear. Let’s wait till we get to some other brook.” - -“Gee, you’re a set of cold-foot Scouts!” Art taunted. - -“And we don’t want ’em any colder,” laughed Lou. - -“Why don’t _you_ go for a bath, Art?” asked Rob. - -“It’s no fun all alone,” Art replied, rather sheepishly, while the rest -laughed. - -The sun was not yet up as they got breakfast ready, and the valley -behind them and the ravine ahead were full of white mist. Only the -rocky pinnacle of the Lion’s Head to their right, and the cliffs of -Boott Spur to the left stood up above the vapor. The coffee smelled -good in the cold air, and Peanut toasted a great piece of Art’s bread, -and varied his breakfast by making himself scrambled eggs on toast as -a special treat. They broke camp as the sun was rising, and by the -time they had climbed into the floor of the ravine the shadow of the -Lion’s Head was beginning to climb down the cliffs of Boott Spur, and -in Pinkham Notch behind them they could see the billows of white mist -tossing and stirring, Lou said exactly as if a giant was sleeping -underneath, and tossing his bedclothes. - -“That’s how Winthrop Packard, the bird expert, once described it,” said -Mr. Rogers. - -When they reached the snow arch, the path swung to the right, and -ascended a pile of debris which had come down from the cliffs above. -When the path had surmounted the arch, it turned to the left, and -passed under the overhanging cliffs at the top of the head wall. It -was very steep and rough, and at one point was covered with snow, or, -rather, snow packed into ice. Here the going was extremely treacherous, -and the party moved slowly, with the utmost caution, using the staffs -on every step. But they got past without accident, and soon found -themselves at the top of the wall. At the top was a long sloping -“lawn,” leading to the summit cone, the “lawn” consisting of grasses -and flowers and moss between the gray stones. They were in full morning -sunlight for a few moments, and every stone on the summit pyramid stood -out sharp against the sky. But all the world below them, except the -tops of the surrounding mountains, was buried under the white vapor. - -“Above the clouds!” cried Peanut. - -“But not for long,” said Art. “Lou’s giant is picking up his bedclothes -and coming after us!” - -Sure enough, as they looked back, they saw the white mist rising from -Pinkham Notch, sucking in through Tuckerman’s Ravine, and seeming to -follow them up the path. Already a wisp was curling over Boott Spur and -drifting slowly across the lawn. - -“Ding it!” cried Peanut, “is it never clear on this old mountain? I’m -getting so I hate clouds. This path is none too easy to find as it is.” - -“Well, let’s keep ahead of the giant, then,” Mr. Rogers said. - -They walked on more rapidly, noting that the wind was actually from the -north, a gentle breeze, just strong enough to hold the rising vapors -back and let them keep ahead. Presently their path crossed a dim trail -which seemed to come from Boott Spur and lead northeastward toward the -Chandler Ridge. It was the Six Husbands’ Trail. - -“Hooray, here’s old Six Husbands,” cried Peanut. “I sure want to go -over it, and also know where it got its name.” - -“Where does it go to, anyhow?” somebody else asked. - -They stopped for a moment to trace the trail on the map, finding that -it started at Boott Spur, skirted the cone of Washington on the south -and east, dipped into the bottom of the Great Gulf, and ascended the -shoulder of Jefferson, ending on the peak of that mountain. - -“The last two miles up Jefferson must be some climb!” Art cried, -looking at the contour intervals--“right up like the wall of a house!” - -“Let’s take it!” shouted Peanut. - -“Perhaps we can take it, out of the Gulf,” Mr. Rogers answered. “But -now we’ve got to get to the Tip Top House. Don’t you want your copies -of _Above the Clouds_?” - -“Gosh, I’d forgotten them,” said Peanut. - -They resumed the climb, and were soon traveling more slowly, up the -steep summit cone. They could not see the top, and they could see -nothing below them because of the following mists. The path was merely -a dim trail amid the wild, piled up confusion of broken rocks. Before -they reached the end of it too, the clouds had reached them, and they -made the last few hundred yards enveloped in the giant’s bedclothes. - -“Bet he was damp in ’em, too,” said Peanut. - -The coach house and barn burst upon them suddenly, out of the fog. - -The boys rushed at once up the steps to the Tip Top House, secured -their copies of _Above the Clouds_, and read Rob’s account of the -storm, which the editor had cut down till it was only half what Rob had -written, much to everybody’s indignation. While they were reading the -paper, buying sweet chocolate and sending post-cards home, the clouds -thinned out on the summit, and when, at eight o’clock, they again -stepped out-of-doors, there seemed to be every prospect of a splendid -day, with a gentle northerly wind to cool the air. - -“Now, our objective point is the Madison Hut, over there to the -northeast at the base of the summit cone of Madison,” said Mr. Rogers. -“We’ll spend the night in the hut, and go down the next day to -Randolph, through King’s Ravine, and catch a train home. There are two -ways of getting there. One is to go over the Gulf Side Trail, along the -summit ridge of the north peaks, the other, and much the harder way, is -to descend into the Great Gulf and climb up again, either by the Six -Husbands’ Trail, the Adams Slide Trail, or the trail up Madison from -the Glen House.” - -“Me for old Six Husbands!” cried Peanut. - -“I want to go along the tops,” said Lou, “where you can see off all the -time.” - -“So do I,” said Frank. - -“I’m for Peanut and the Six Husbands,” said Art. - -“Suppose we split for the day,” Rob suggested. “I’ll go with one half, -and you go with the other, Mr. Rogers.” - -The Scout Master looked at the sky and the horizon. The day held every -promise of fine weather, and he assented. “All right,” he said, “I’ll -take Lou and Frank over the north peaks, and you take the others down -the head wall of the Gulf, past Spaulding Lake and the Gulf camp, to -the Six Husbands’ Trail, and then come directly up that to the Gulf -Side Trail near the cone of Jefferson. When you reach the Gulf Side -Trail, if the weather is clear, leave your packs by the path, and go on -up to the top of Jefferson and signal to us. We’ll be waiting on the -top of Adams, at four o’clock. If it’s not clear, come right along the -Gulf Side to the hut.” - -“Hooray! Signaling from one mountain peak to another! That’s going -some!” cried Peanut. - -“But why wait till four?” asked Art. “According to the map, we haven’t -more than eight miles to go, half of it down-hill.” - -Mr. Rogers smiled, “We’ll leave it at four o’clock, though,” he -answered. “If you think you can beat that schedule, all right. Maybe -we’ll be on Adams earlier.” - -The party now went down the steps to the carriage road, and swung along -down that for a quarter of a mile. Then they turned off to the left -by the Gulf Side Trail, and walking over the rough stones with grass -between drew near the head wall of the Great Gulf. Soon they were -at it. The Great Gulf is a gigantic ravine between the huge eastern -shoulder of Mount Washington, called the Chandler Ridge, and the three -northern peaks of Madison, Adams and Jefferson. Mount Clay, the fourth -of the north peaks, and the one next to Washington, is almost a part of -the head wall of the Gulf. The Gulf sides are very precipitous, and as -the boys looked across it to the shoulder of Jefferson, where the Six -Husbands’ Trail ascends, Lou and Frank began to laugh. - -“Glad _we_ haven’t got to climb that to-day!” they cried. - -“Lazy stiffs,” said Peanut. “What’s that! A mere nothing!” But he -grinned dubiously, even as he spoke. - -“Well, we’re in for it now,” said Rob, “so come on.” - -“Oh, I’m coming,” Peanut replied. - -“Now, Rob, one last word,” said the Scout Master. “I’m giving you the -map. Follow the trails agreed on, and promise me not to leave ’em, -even for a dozen feet. You are entering unknown country, and dangerous -country. Go straight down past the Gulf camp, and you’ll pick up the -Six Husbands about a quarter of a mile below--maybe less. Goodbye. -Signal, if clear, when you get to Jefferson. If worst comes to worst, -go back to the Gulf camp, or if you are on the range, go to the shelter -hut just east of Jefferson, on the Adams-Jefferson col.” - -Mr. Rogers, Lou and Frank waved their hands as they watched the other -three plunge over the edge of the head wall, and begin to descend the -two thousand feet of precipitous rock pile which dropped down to where -Spaulding Lake lay like a mirror amid the trees at the bottom of the -Great Gulf. Then they shouldered packs again, and set out toward the -three summits of Clay, just ahead of them, the first stage of their -journey over the north peaks to the Madison Hut. The morning was clear -and fine now, and they could see for miles upon miles out over green -valleys and far blue mountains, while the rocky pyramids of Jefferson, -Adams and Madison ahead of them, rising about five hundred feet above -the connecting cols, seemed near enough, almost, to hit with a stone, -though actually the nearest, Jefferson, was two miles away. - -“We’ve got nearly all day for a six mile hike,” the Scout Master said. -“Let’s take it easy and enjoy the view.” - -So we will leave them climbing slowly up the slope of Clay, and descend -the Gulf with Rob, Art and Peanut. - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -WITH ROB, ART AND PEANUT INTO THE GREAT GULF - - -Rob, Art and Peanut were making time down the head wall, but they were -also using up shoe leather, for the wall of the Great Gulf is composed -of innumerable loose stones, often of a shaly nature, with sharp edges, -which turn under the foot. The head wall trail, too, because of its -steepness, is not so much used as many others, and at times the Scouts -had some difficulty in keeping it. It grew warmer as they descended -out of the breeze into the still air of the Gulf, and, as Peanut said, -his forehead was starting another brook. They reached timber line in a -short time, and before long were in the woods beside Spaulding Lake, -where in spite of the leaf-mould on the bottom they paused long enough -to strip and have a quick bath in the cold water, which was, however, -warm by contrast with some of the brooks they had tried. Then they -resumed the trail down the floor of the Gulf, beside the head waters of -the Peabody River. The path was rough, full of roots and wet places, -and it descended constantly, with waterfalls beside it, and through -openings in the trees here and there glimpses of the great cliff walls -of Jefferson and Adams to the left. The thrushes were singing all about -them, and they came upon several deer tracks, and once upon the mark of -a bear’s paw in the mud. They kept looking, too, for the Gulf camp, but -it did not appear. - -“Say, this old trail is longer than I thought,” said Peanut, “or else -there isn’t any Gulf camp.” - -At last, however, after nearly an hour’s tramping from Spaulding Lake, -they saw smoke through the trees ahead, and came upon the camp, which -was a lean-to like that in Tuckerman’s, with the opening placed close -up against the perpendicular wall of a big boulder, to throw the heat -of the fire back into the shelter. - -Two young men, badly in need of shaves, were cooking breakfast. - -“Hello, Scouts,” they said. - -“Lunching early, aren’t you?” asked Rob. - -The men laughed. “This is breakfast,” they said. “We decided to-day to -have a good sleep, and we did, all right--thirteen hours! Came over -Crawford’s and down the head wall yesterday. Going out to Carter’s -Notch to-day. Where are you going?” - -“We are bound up the Six Husbands to the Madison Hut,” the boys -answered. - -The two men whistled. “Well, good luck to you,” they said. “But glad -we’re not going with you!” - -“Why?” Peanut demanded. - -“Because it goes right up the shoulder of Jefferson. Have you seen the -shoulder of Jefferson?” - -“Sure,” said Art. “What of it?” - -“Well, if you _had_ to work as hard as that, you’d make an awful fuss!” -one of the men laughed. - -“You talk just like my father,” said Peanut. “Why is it called the Six -Husbands’ Trail--if you know so much about it?” he added. - -“Search me,” the man replied, “unless because it would take six -husbands to get a woman up there.” - -The boys laughed, and went on their way. They soon came to the trail -itself, and struck up the Six Husbands at last, headed directly for the -cliffs of Jefferson and Adams, which seemed to be towering over their -heads. - -“It _does_ look like a job, and no mistake!” cried Peanut. - -“Well, if somebody can put a trail up it, we can follow ’em, I guess,” -cried Art. “This is something like mountain climbing!” - -But for half a mile the trail didn’t ascend much. It followed up -a brook, and seemed to be headed for the ravine between Adams and -Jefferson. Presently they came to a fork in the trail, where the Adams -Slide Trail branched off to the east. Here there was a spring, labeled -Great Spring on the map, where they filled their canteens, and taking -the left fork, the Six Husbands, began at last the real ascent of -Jefferson. There was no longer any doubt about its being an ascent, -either. The map showed that from the Great Spring to the crossing of -the Gulf Side Trail at the summit cone of the mountain was little -over a mile, but that mile, as Peanut said, was stood up on end. They -plugged away for a while, toiling upward, weighted down with their -packs and blankets, which had increased in weight at least fifty per -cent. since morning, and then decided to eat lunch before the fuel gave -out. - -It was hard work chopping up fire-wood from the tough, aged, and -gnarled stumps of the dwarf spruces which alone could grow on this -cliff side, but they got a blaze at last, and made tea and cooked some -bacon--the last they had. It was one o’clock before they were through, -and Rob, seeing that Peanut was pretty tired and Art pretty sleepy, -ordered a rest for an hour. They spread out their blankets and lay -down, in a spot where there was the least danger of rolling off, and -soon the two younger boys were fast asleep. - -Rob didn’t go to sleep. He watched an eagle sailing on still wings out -over the Gulf, and presently, to his consternation, he saw a thin wisp -of vapor curling around the ridges far above on Adams. Southwestward, -the slopes of Washington were clear, but there was surely cloud coming -above them, and they on a little used trail, without Mr. Rogers! Rob’s -heart went suddenly down into his boots, and he felt a cold sweat come. -Then he pulled himself together. - -“Fool!” he half whispered. “If we keep on up, we are bound to hit the -Gulf Side Trail. And didn’t Mr. Rogers say that if you kept cool you -were much better off? Brace up, old Scout!” - -He waited till his heart had stopped thumping, and then he waked the -other two. - -“We’ve got to be climbing again,” he said; “there’s a cloud coming over -Adams.” - -“Say, there’s always a cloud coming, seems to me,” said Peanut. “Well, -come on then. Gee, I was having a good sleep!” - -The three boys rolled up their blankets, and resumed the trail, first -taking a good look at the map and fixing the compass direction. The -clouds were now plainly visible above them, both around the tops of -Adams, Madison and Jefferson, and evidently over on Clay, too. But -behind them, across the Gulf, Chandler Ridge was in clear sun, and they -could see a motor car going up the carriage road, and even hear a faint -cough from its exhaust. - -“This is no storm, it’s evidently just a wandering cloud,” said Rob. -“But we’d better make all the distance we can in clear going.” - -They toiled upward for a full hour, almost hand over hand in places, -with the cloud still above them and the Gulf clear below, before they -got into the under curtain of the vapor, and began to have trouble in -finding the trail. They were feeling their way cautiously, compasses in -hand, when suddenly Art, who was leading, uttered a cry, and pointed -to the unmistakable cross path of the Gulf Side Trail, carefully -maintained and worn by many feet. There was a sign, too. - -“Hooray! Here we are! Can’t miss that trail!” yelled Peanut, his -feeling of relief escaping in a shout which used up all the breath left -in his lungs. - -There was, to the amazement of the Scouts, an answering shout from -somewhere southwest of them, coming out of the fog--a faint call which -sounded like “Help!” - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -FIRST AID IN THE CLOUDS! - - -“What’s that?” all three exclaimed. - -Facing in the direction whence the sound seemed to come, they put their -hands around their mouths, and shouted together, “Hoo-oo!” - -Again there was a faint reply. - -“It’s down the Gulf Side Trail, and a bit west!” cried Art. “Come on!” - -“Easy!” cried Rob. “We don’t want to go rushing off the trail this way, -or we’ll be lost, too. Here, let’s go south on the Gulf Side, until the -shouts are directly west of us, and then strike in toward ’em. Keep -yelling as we go.” - -The answering halloo grew nearer as they moved south on the Gulf Side, -and presently it seemed quite close, to the west. The boys struck off -toward it, over what seemed almost like a rocky pasture there was so -much mountain grass at this spot, and in a hundred yards or so they -came upon a man and two women, one of the latter seated on the ground -moaning, her face pale with pain, while the other was rubbing her -ankle. - -“Thank God!” said the man, as the Scouts appeared. - -“But they’re only boys!” added the woman who was not hurt, her face -clouding with disappointment. She looked as if she had been crying. - -The injured woman, however, said nothing. Rob took one look at her, and -saw that she was fainting. He caught her just in time to keep her from -falling backward upon the rocks. - -“Here, hold her!” he said brusquely to the man, while he unslung his -pack and fished for the aromatic spirits of ammonia. - -She came to in a moment. - -“Lost?” asked Rob. - -“We were walking from Washington to the Madison Hut,” the man answered, -“and this cloud came, and we lost the path coming down Mount Clay. Are -we far from it now? We have been wandering blindly, getting more and -more confused, and finally this lady sprained her ankle.” - -“She ought to have high boots on, not low shoes,” said Rob; “especially -a woman of her weight.” - -“Get me down the mountain somehow,” the injured woman moaned. “I’ll -never come on a trip like this again!” - -“We can’t carry her far,” said Art, bluntly, “she’s too heavy. We’ll -have to get help.” - -“Let’s get her to the trail,” Rob suggested, “and then one of us will -have to go for help. What’s nearer, Washington or the Madison Hut? Look -at the map, Art.” - -“We must be on the edge of the Monticello Lawn on the south shoulder of -Jefferson,” Art replied. “It’s about an even break, but it’s nearer to -Adams, where our crowd is waiting for us.” - -“Well, we’ll get her to the path, and decide,” Rob said. “Stretcher!” - -The boys made a stretcher with their coats and staffs, and Rob and the -man took the ends, while the woman, who was large and heavy, was helped -up, groaning with pain, and sat on it. It was quite all they could do -to carry her, and the poles sagged dangerously. Art went ahead with the -compass, walking almost due east, and they reached the Gulf Side Trail -and lowered the stretcher. - -“Now,” said Rob, “two of us had better go for help to Adams. Art, -you and I will, I guess. Peanut, you wait here and make the lady as -comfortable as you can in our blankets.” - -“Hold on!” Peanut cried. “See, the cloud is breaking up! Maybe we can -signal. That would be quicker.” - -The clouds were surely breaking. They didn’t so much lift as suddenly -begin to blow off, under the pressure of a wind which was springing -up. The top of Jefferson was visible through a rift even as the party -watched, and presently a shaft of sunlight hit them, and the whole -upper cone of Jefferson was revealed, a pyramidal pile of bare, broken -stone. - -“Give me the staffs and two towels,” Peanut cried. “I’ll have help here -in half an hour!” - -Rob went with him, and the two Scouts, forgetting how weary they were, -began almost to run up the five hundred feet of the summit cone, -without any path, scrambling over the great stones without thought of -bruised shins. - -When they reached the peak, the clouds were entirely off the -range--they had disappeared as if by magic--and the sharp cone of Adams -to the northeast, almost two miles away in an air line, was plainly -visible. As they stood on the highest rock, a flash of light sprang at -them from the other summit. - -“Hooray!” Peanut cried, “they’re there! They’re flashing a mirror at -us!” - -“More likely the bottom of a tin plate,” said Rob. “Where’d they get a -mirror? Out with your signals!” - -Peanut tied a white towel to the end of each staff, and standing as -high on the topmost rock as he could, held them out. Against the blue -sky, on the peak of Adams, the two boys saw two tiny white specks break -out in answer. They were so far away that it was very hard to follow -them, to keep the two apart. - -“Oh, for a pair of field-glasses!” Rob cried. “Do you think they can -get us?” - -“If we can get them, they can,” Peanut answered. “Here goes!” - -“Woman hurt, bring help, Gulf Side,” he signaled, very slowly. - -They both watched, breathless, for the answer, but it was impossible to -make out whether they were understood or not. - -“Here, you take one flag, and stand up here; you’re taller,” Peanut -said, jumping off the rock. “I’ll stand below you. That’ll separate the -two more. Now, again!” - -Very slowly, holding each letter a long time, and running a few steps -to left or right with their flags, they signaled once more, the same -message. - -This time they saw the answering flags change position. “Good old Lou, -he’s done the same trick,” Peanut cried. “Look, I can read it now!” - -“I can’t,” said Rob. - -“Well, I can----G-o-t-y-o-u! Got you!” Peanut shouted. “They’ll be -here! How long will it take ’em?” - -“Oh, half an hour, I should say,” Rob answered. “Come back, now. Maybe -the woman has fainted again.” - -“Gee, why do people try to climb mountains when they don’t know how?” -said Peanut, as they descended again toward the little group of figures -below them. - -“Help is coming!” they cried, as they drew near. - -“Well, you boys were certainly sent by Providence!” the man exclaimed. - -They all made the injured woman as comfortable as they could while they -waited. There was still a little water left in the Scouts’ canteens, -and they made a cold bandage around her ankle, which Rob decided was -not broken. Then there was nothing to do but sit and wait. It seemed -hours, though it was really less than thirty minutes, when over the -east shoulder of Jefferson, where the Gulf Side Trail skirts the -precipitous wall down into the Great Gulf, came the rescue party, -almost on the run--Mr. Rogers, Frank, Lou, and four men. - -One of these men, it speedily turned out, was a doctor, and he took -charge at once, while Rob watched him admiringly, for Rob was going to -be a doctor, too. He felt of the injured ankle carefully, while the -patient winced with pain. - -“No broken bones,” he said, “just a bad sprain. You should wear stout, -high boots for such work, madam.” - -(“Just what we told her,” Art whispered.) - -“And now,” the doctor added, “she’s got to be carried to the nearest -point on the railroad. Jim, you start along now to the summit house, -and telephone down for a train to be sent up immediately. We’ll get her -to the track at the point where the West Side Trail crosses, just below -the Gulf tank.” - -“How far is it?” asked the Scouts. - -“Two miles,” the doctor answered, “but we can do it all right. You boys -have done enough to-day. We are going that way anyhow, and you are -going the other.” - -“Couldn’t we take her to the Madison Hut?” asked Frank. - -“That would be a great help!” the doctor said. “How would we get her -down the mountain from there?” - -“I hadn’t thought of that,” said Frank. - -Meanwhile, one of the four men had picked up his pack again and -was striding rapidly down the trail toward Clay, headed for Mount -Washington and the telephone. The other three trampers, and the man who -had been lost with the women, made a new stretcher of their staffs and -coats, put the woman on it, and started after him. - -The Scouts begged to help, but the doctor said no. - -“Twice a day over the Gulf Side is enough for boys of your age,” he -declared. “We can get on all right. You go back to the hut--and take -it easy, too.” - -The man and both the women who had been rescued said goodbye to Peanut, -Rob and Art over and over, shaking their hands till the boys grew -embarrassed. - -“Heaven knows what would have become of us if they hadn’t heard our -shout!” the uninjured woman exclaimed, again close to tears. “We were -lost, and Bessie was hurt, and we’d have perished!” - -“Not so bad as that,” the doctor said, with a smile, “because the cloud -cleared, and you’d have found the path, and we four would have come by -just the same.” - -Peanut’s face clouded. He had thought of himself and his two companions -as rescuers, and here the doctor was proving that if they hadn’t done -it, somebody else would! The doctor evidently guessed his thoughts, for -he added: - -“That’s not taking away any credit from these Scouts, though. If we -hadn’t happened to be headed for Washington you would undoubtedly have -been in bad trouble, and if the cloud had lasted longer, you might have -been in for a night on the mountain without shelter, and that never did -anybody any good. Pretty good work for the boys, I think!” - -Peanut looked happy again, and the two parties shouted goodbye to each -other, as those with the stretcher moved down the trail toward the -distant railroad trestle, and the Scouts moved northward, toward the -Madison Hut. - -Then Peanut suddenly realized that he was tired. He was more than -tired--he could just about drag one foot after the other. Art was not -much fresher, and even Rob said if anybody should ask him to run fifty -yards, he’d shoot ’em. - -They passed the Six Husbands’ Trail, swung around north of Jefferson -onto the knife-blade col between that mountain and Adams, passing -Dingmaul Rock, a strange shaped boulder called after a mountain animal -which is never seen except by guides when they have been having a drop -too much. Peanut laughed at this, but he grew sober and silent again -when it was passed, and when the trail swung to the left of Adams, -rising over the slope between Adams and the lesser western spur called -Sam Adams, he didn’t even grin when somebody suggested that they climb -Adams, which is 5,805 feet, the second highest mountain in New England. - -“Go to thunder,” was his only comment. - -Once they had toiled up the slope, however, they looked down-hill all -the way to the Madison Hut, and in thirty minutes they had crossed -the Adams-Madison col and reached the stone hut tucked into the rocks -at the base of the cone of Madison, the last peak of the Presidential -range. - -With one accord, packs and blankets were dropped off weary shoulders to -the ground, and the three Scouts who had been into the Gulf that day -flopped down on top of them, and lay there exhausted. The other three -had already been to the hut and left their load. - -“Well, I guess you’ve had enough husbands for one day, eh?” said the -Scout Master. “And you’d better not lie there, either. Come on, inside -with you, and lie in your bunks.” - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -PEANUT LEARNS WHERE THE SIX HUSBANDS’ TRAIL GOT ITS NAME - - -It was, in truth, getting cold on the mountain, and the wind was -freshening as the sun set. They moved wearily into the hut, and found -three tiers of bunks inside, like a ship’s cabin, and a stove giving -out pleasant heat, and the caretaker getting supper ready. - -“No cooking to-night,” said the Scout Master. “You three climb up and -lie down till supper is ready.” - -Rob, Art and Peanut made no objection to this order, and soon, from -their bunks, they were discussing the day’s adventures with the other -three. - -“We had a wonderful day!” said Lou and Frank. “We climbed every one of -the north peaks except Madison--Clay, Jefferson and Adams--and we got -almost to the hut here before the cloud came. Gee, what views! We kept -looking down into the Gulf for you, but we never saw you. It was lots -of fun climbing back up Adams in the cloud.” - -“Well, we had some day ourselves, believe me Judge!” said Peanut. “We -had a swim in Spaulding Lake, and a long hike in the woods down at the -bottom of the Gulf, and then the Six Husbands’ Trail. Say, that’s a -trail!” - -“My pack weighed a hundred and twenty-nine pounds before we got to the -top,” Art added. - -“And then, when we saw the clouds above us, we hurried, too,” Rob said, -“so we could reach the Gulf Side path before they closed down too far, -and that took our wind.” - -“And then Peanut let out a Comanche yell when we did strike the Gulf -Side,” put in Art, “with all the wind he had left----” - -“Which wasn’t much,” said Peanut. - -“----and out of the cloud, off southwest somewhere we suddenly heard a -faint call for ‘Help!’ It sounded awfully strange, kind of weird-like, -way up there in the clouds.” - -“Wonder if they’ve got the woman down by now?” said Frank. - -“Lucky that doctor and the other three men were hiking along here,” Lou -put in, “or we’d have had to carry her to the railroad and then walk -way back over the whole Gulf Side Trail again.” - -“Not me,” said Peanut. “I’d have kissed the mountains good-night, and -got aboard the train myself.” - -“Where did you strike those four?” asked Rob. - -“They were at the hut when we first got there at two o’clock, waiting -for the cloud to break,” said Mr. Rogers. “They came up Adams with us -to see you fellows signal, for they said the cloud wouldn’t last long. -Good trampers, they were, on their annual vacation up here. They know -every path like a book.” - -The Scouts were discussing signaling and its uses, and Rob was saying -that it made him tired to hear people say the Scouts were taught to be -warlike, when signaling had proved so valuable that very day as a means -of saving life in peace, instead of taking it in war--when steps were -heard outside the hut, and a second later two men stood in the door. - -“Hello, any room?” they said. - -“Come in,” said the caretaker. - -The two men entered. They were rather elderly men, or at least middle -aged, with gray hair; but both of them were tanned and rugged, the -type you learn to recognize as the real trampers on the White Mountain -trails. They made themselves at home at once, tossing their small packs -into a corner. They had no blankets, but both of them carried botanical -specimen cases. - -“Where from?” asked Mr. Rogers. - -“Jackson,” they said. “We came up Tuckerman’s yesterday to the Tip Top -House, and spent this morning getting specimens on Bigelow Lawn. We’ve -just come over the Gulf Side.” - -“Did you meet four men carrying an injured woman?” the boys asked. - -“Carrying her where?” - -“To the train.” - -“They were taking her along the West Side Trail, from Monticello Lawn, -where she sprained her ankle,” Mr. Rogers added. “One of them went -ahead to the summit to telephone.” - -“Oh, that explains it!” the two strangers said. “We met him just as -we were turning out of the carriage road into the trail. He was going -about ten miles an hour. And when we got up on Jefferson, we saw a -train climbing the trestle, and wondered why.” - -“Hooray, she’s safe!” shouted Peanut. “Bet she never tries to climb in -low shoes again, though.” - -Supper was now served, and the combined parties sat down to it. The -boys told the newcomers of their day’s adventures, and Peanut suddenly -shot out, “Say! Can _you_ tell me why it’s called the Six Husbands’ -Trail?” - -One of the men laughed. “I surely can,” he said. - -“Well, for Heaven’s sake, do, then,” Rob said. “He’ll never be happy -till he knows.” - -“You came down the head wall of the Gulf, you say?” the man asked. -“Well, did you notice the first waterfall you came to after you reached -the bottom of the wall and started down toward the Gulf camp?” - -“Gee, there was nothing but waterfalls,” said Peanut. - -“Exactly, but there are some real falls on the trail, though, and some -which are only rapids. Anyhow, the upper fall was named in the summer -of 1908, by Warren W. Hart, a Boston lawyer who cut the trail up to the -head wall. Weetamo Fall, he called it, in honor of Queen Weetamo, the -sister-in-law of the famous Indian chief, King Philip. Maybe you boys -know all about her?” - -“Know about King Philip,” said Peanut, “but can’t say I’m intimate with -his sister-in-law.” - -“That’s a pity,” said the man, “because she was a fine woman. Her -husband, King Philip’s older brother, Alexander (or Wamsutta) was also -a chief. After he died, Weetamo married again, several times, each time -seeking to bind the New England tribes into a stronger alliance. Some -say she married three times, some say five or more. Mr. Hart, when he -cut the new trail you boys came up this afternoon, decided to give the -lady a liberal allowance, so he made it six. The Six Husbands’ Trail is -named in honor of the husbands of Weetamo, the Indian chieftainess.” - -“There, Peanut, now you know!” laughed Art. - -“I like it, too,” Peanut declared. “I don’t see why more of these -mountains and places aren’t named after Indians, or with Indian names, -like Moosilauke and Pemigewassett and Ammonoosuc. Why should this -mountain be called Madison, for instance? _He_ didn’t discover it, or -even ever see it, maybe.” - -“Who did discover the White Mountains, by the way?” asked Rob. “I never -thought of that before.” - -The same man who had answered before again replied. He seemed to know -all about these hills. “Mount Washington, which was named in the first -years of Washington’s administration, when all sorts of things were -being named for him, was the first mountain climbed in the United -States,” he said. “Darby Field accomplished it in 1642, after a trip -of exploration in from the coast, through the then trackless forest. -The only account of the trip is in Governor John Winthrop’s journal, -which you’ll find in your public library, or it ought to be there, if -it isn’t. Field was accompanied by two Indians. It took them eighteen -days to get here and back. At the foot of the ascent was an Indian -village, but these Indians dared accompany him no nearer the top than -eight miles, as they never climbed mountains. His own two Indians went -on with him. From the fact that his ascent was, he says, for the last -twelve miles over bare rocks, he evidently came up over the southern -ridges somewhere, possibly the Giant’s Stairs and Boott Spur. The north -peaks were not explored and named till 1820, less than a hundred years -ago. Lafayette, over in Franconia, was not climbed till 1826.” - -“But weren’t there any Indian names for these mountains?” Peanut -persisted. - -“They called the whole Presidential range, or perhaps the whole White -Mountains by the name Agiocochook,” the man answered. “I’m afraid my -knowledge ceases there. Our forefathers didn’t make any special effort -to learn what the Indians did call things, or to respect their names -any more than their lands. Certainly we’ve done badly in our naming. -Clay, for instance, and Franklin, were never Presidents, yet their -names are given to two peaks in the Presidential range; and Mount -Pleasant isn’t even named after a statesman. I agree with our young -friend here, and like better the names of the Sandwich range to the -south, Chocorua, Passaconaway, Bald Face. Those are either Indian -names, or are suggestive of the appearance of the mountain.” - -“Right-o,” said Peanut. - -It was now dark outside, and clear and cold. The Scouts went out into -the windy starlight, and looked far down into the valley to the north, -where the lights of a small town glittered, and filled their lungs -with the bracing, fresh air. Then they one and all turned in, and -though the two new arrivals were talking with the caretaker of the hut, -it wasn’t five minutes before all six were fast asleep. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -THROUGH KING’S RAVINE AND HOME AGAIN - - -Art was not the first one up in the morning. When he opened his eyes, -he saw the caretaker of the hut moving about the stove. Nobody else was -astir in the Scouts’ party, but through the open door Art saw the two -men who had arrived the previous evening standing on the rocks, looking -off. It was full daylight! - -Art climbed hastily down out of his bunk and shook Peanut. - -“Lemme ’lone! I got to climb this rock!” said Peanut. - -“What do you think you’re doing? You’ve got to get up!” laughed Art. - -“Whaz ’at?” said Peanut. Then he opened his eyes, stared into Art’s -face, and added, “Hello! Why, I’m awake!” - -Meanwhile, the others had waked, also. Rob looked at his watch. “Six -o’clock!” he exclaimed. “That’s what comes of sleeping in bunks. All -up, and have a look at the weather!” - -The weather seemed propitious. The north peaks were all out, and the -great shoulder of Chandler Ridge on Washington, across the white mists -which filled the Great Gulf, looked like a stone peninsula thrusting -out into a foamy sea. There was only a slight wind, and the sun was -pleasantly warm already. - -“How’s the grub holding out?” asked Mr. Rogers. “If we have breakfast -cooked for us inside, it will cost us something. Have we enough left -for breakfast and lunch? We’ll have to get supper on the train.” - -“Train! Gee whiz, I don’t want to go home! Let’s stay another week,” -said Frank. - -“That’s the talk!” Peanut cried. “Let’s go down in the Great Gulf and -get some trout, and live on them.” - -“I’ll shoot a bear with a bow and arrow,” Art added. “We’ll need the -meat, too, for we’ve not got more than enough for one good meal--except -vegetables. We’ve got a lot of spinach left, ’cause we’ve hardly -ever stayed anywhere long enough to soak it, unless we’d had it for -breakfast.” - -Peanut fished in his rear pocket and produced his purse. “I’ve got -enough to buy breakfast, if the caretaker’ll sell us any, and a sleeper -home,” he announced. “Golly, though, where’s my return ticket!” - -He began searching wildly in all his pockets, while the others -investigated their pocketbooks, to see if they had their tickets. -Peanut finally dashed back into the hut, and discovered his in his -pack. The tickets were from Fabyans, however, and as they would reach -the railroad at Randolph, some miles east, there would be a small -extra fare. All the boys had money enough left for the trip, and for -breakfast as well. - -“I’ll shout you all to supper on the train,” said Mr. Rogers. “Let’s -save all our grub for a whacking big farewell luncheon in King’s -Ravine, and buy breakfast here, eh?” - -“You’re on,” the Scouts replied, and they hastened back into the hut, -where the two men joined them. The caretaker finally agreed to give the -boys breakfast out of his own stores, though he didn’t seem very keen -about it. Usually, he only cooks meals for visitors at the hut when -they provide the food. - -“How do you get the food up here?” Peanut asked him. - -“The birds bring it,” he said. - -“You think you’re Joshua, don’t you?” Peanut retorted. - -“Why?” asked the man, looking puzzled. - -“’Cause he was fed by the ravens. Wake up and hear the birdies,” Peanut -laughed. “Now will you tell me?” - -The man grunted, and made no reply. - -(“I suppose he has to pack it up from Randolph,” one of the men -whispered. “It’s no cinch, either.”) - -Breakfast over, the boys paid fifty cents each for their night’s -lodging, and a dollar and a half for cooking dinner and the breakfast. -Then they set out for the summit of Madison, before descending to the -railroad. The sharp cone of Madison rose directly behind the hut. -Indeed, you could step from the roof of the hut in the rear out onto -the rocks. It was only a twenty minute climb, without packs, for -the hut is 4,828 feet above the sea, and Madison, the last of the -Presidentials, is only 5,380. From the top they had their last high -prospect, and they drank it in to the full. Eastward, they looked out -over the ravine of the Peabody River to the timbered slopes of the -Moriahs and Carter’s Dome, another group of mountains which lured their -feet. Beyond them was the state of Maine. Southward, over the Great -Gulf, was Chandler Ridge, with the Chandler River leaping down its -steep side, like a ribbon of silver. South westward lay the bare stone -pyramids of Adams and the two lesser Adamses (Jefferson was hidden) and -finally the great bulk of Washington to the left of Clay, lying high -above them all, far off against the blue sky. Due west, they looked -down into the yawning hole of King’s Ravine. It was a mighty prospect -of bare rocks piled more than a mile in air, of great gulfs between -them, of far green valleys and far blue hills. - -“Oh, I like the mountains!” cried Lou. “I want to come to the mountains -every year! I want to stand up under the sky and see off--way off, like -this!” - -“That goes for me, too, even if I can’t say it so pretty,” declared -Peanut. - -Reluctantly, they descended from the cone, picked up their packs at -the hut, and with Peanut throwing back a final “Goodbye, Josh,” to the -caretaker, they hit the Gulf Side Trail for a scant quarter of a mile, -swung off of it to the right, and stood presently in a kind of gateway -of great stones, with the world dropping out of sight between the posts. - -“Look back!” said Mr. Rogers. - -They turned. Behind them, framed by the huge stones of the natural -gate, rose the cone of Madison against the blue sky--that and nothing -else. - -“Goodbye, Maddie,” said Peanut. - -“Au revoir,” said Lou. “See you again next summer, maybe!” - -They turned once more, and at once began to drop down the head wall of -King’s Ravine, a ravine almost as fine as Tuckerman’s, discovered and -explored by the Reverend Thomas Starr King in 1857 and named after him. - -“Say, this trail has the Six Husbands’ guessing,” said Art. - -“Glad I’m not going up,” said Frank. - -“Well, nothing is steep to me after the head wall of Huntington,” Lou -said. “I can see something under my feet here, at any rate.” - -The descent was rapid, for they dropped 1,300 feet in the -five-sixteenths of a mile to the floor of the ravine, which means an -ascent of 4,160 feet to the mile. Anybody good at mathematics can -reckon out what this angle is. The boys estimated it roughly as they -were descending at about seventy degrees. Nobody had time to figure it -on paper, however, and when they got to the bottom, there was too much -else to see. Anyhow, it was steep going! - -They found the bottom of the ravine strewn with great boulders which -had fallen down from the cliffs on three sides. Some of them were as -big as houses, and in a cave under one they found ice. Two paths led -down the ravine, one over the boulders called “Elevated Route for Rapid -Transit,” the other “The Subway.” - -The guide book said the latter took longer but was more interesting. - -“The Subway for us!” cried Peanut. - -So they took the Subway, and though it was not a second Lost River, -this path took them by a tortuous route through several caves, and -under many an overhanging boulder, where the air was chill and there -were strange echoes. Again, at the lower end of the ravine, they -descended rapidly for half a mile by a steep way, into the woods again -at last, and finally stopped by a brook for the farewell lunch. - -The last of the powdered eggs, spinach soaked and boiled as long as -they dared wait, till it wasn’t too tough to eat, the last of the bacon -from Lou’s and Mr. Rogers’ packs, a single small flapjack apiece, -a quarter cake of sweet chocolate for each, and tea, completed the -repast. After it was over, they carefully burned all the wrapping paper -and Art blazed a tree and printed on the fresh wood, “Farewell Camp,” -and the date. Then under it they all wrote their names. - -It was less than two miles from this point out to the railroad and for -the first time in many days they were walking on almost level ground. -Before long, the woods opened, and they came out on the meadows of -Randolph. Across a field in front of them lay the railroad track and -the tiny station. They dropped packs on the platform and turned to look -at the mountains. Only the north peaks were visible--Madison, Adams and -Jefferson--three pyramids against the sky. - -“Golly, how funny it feels to be down on the level again!” said Peanut. - -“And how far away they look! Think, we were up there only this -morning!” said Frank. - -“And how small our hills will look when we get home,” said Lou. - -“Well, anyhow,” put in Art, “cheer up and think how good some of -mother’s pies will taste.” - -“There’s something in that,” laughed Rob and Mr. Rogers. - -The train soon came, and carried them by a roundabout route to Fabyans, -where they had to change to the night train down the Connecticut -valley. At Fabyans, where the big Fabyan Hotel sits beside the -railroad, they bought some more souvenir post-cards and Peanut got -a pound of very sticky candy which Mr. Rogers said would spoil his -supper, whereat he answered, “Wait and see!” They could see from here -the whole south range, culminating in the peak of Washington, and thus -could follow their adventurous climb over the Crawford Bridle Path. -Again, the peaks seemed very far off, and Lou said it was like a dream -to think that they had been walking way up there only a few days before. - -Once aboard the train, they secured berths for the night, and began to -think of supper. Mr. Rogers was true to his word--and so was Peanut. He -provided--and Peanut ate. - -“What’s a pound of candy to an empty tum?” said Peanut. “Besides, Frank -and Art ate most of it.” - -They had a last faint glimpse of Lafayette against the twilight at -Bethlehem junction, and then the train moved on through the darkness. - -“Well, it’s goodbye mountains,” said Rob. “Let’s fix up our mileage.” - -Each Scout got out his precious staff, battered now, with the end -pounded into a mushroom by the hard usage on the rocks, and cut the -mileage for the day--five miles was all they could make it, even with -the trip up the Madison cone included. - -“Disgraceful!” said Peanut. “Five miles! Bah!” - -“But the day before is _fair_,” said Art, “considering the Six -Husbands’!” - -“Let’s see, have I got it right?” asked Peanut. “Mile and -three-quarters from Tuckerman hut to Washington, three and a half miles -to Six Husbands’, mile and a half to sprained ankle, mile up Jefferson -and back, three miles to the hut--that’s ten and three-quarters miles, -and I guess we can call it eleven, all right, and some up and down -hill, take it from me!” - -“Well, we did more’n that,” said Frank; “we had the mile and -three-quarters from Tuckerman’s, six to the Madison Hut along the Gulf -Side, and three back to you folks, and three back to the hut again. -That’s thirteen and three-quarters, and we took in the summits of -Jefferson and Adams, so we can call it an even fifteen. Some up and -down for us, too.” - -“Well, eleven over the Six Husbands’ will stand off your fifteen,” -Peanut declared; “won’t it, Rob?” - -“I think it will,” said Rob, “but let’s not fight about it. What’s the -grand total?” - -“Eight the first day,” said Art, “from Sugar Hill station to camp; -ten up Kinsman; twenty-one on Moosilauke; seventeen in Lost River and -on to the Flume camp for you fellows, and eighteen for Peanut and me; -sixteen over Lafayette; ten on Cannon and in Crawford’s; nine on the -Bridle Path, fighting storm; thirteen and a quarter in Tuckerman’s and -Huntington--let’s call it fourteen, ’cause we climbed the Huntington -head wall a way; eleven for half of us in the Gulf, and fifteen for the -rest; and five on the last day. What does that make?” - -Rob, who had put down the readings on a bit of paper, added the total. -“One hundred and twenty-one for half of us, one hundred and twenty-six -for the rest,” he said. - -“About a hundred and twenty-five miles in ten days,” said Mr. Rogers. -“Well, that’s not so bad, when you’re toting a pack and a blanket, and -fighting clouds and hurricanes, and shinning up Six Husbands’ trails. -Are you glad you came, boys?” - -“Are we!” they shouted, in one breath. “You bet!” - -“We haven’t done so awful much real scouting though,” added Peanut. - -“Why not?” said the Scout Master. “It seems to me we have. We’ve been -prepared, haven’t we? We’ve handled ourselves in storms and clouds, -we’ve helped other folks, we’ve known how to signal for aid from one -mountain top to another, we’ve kept ourselves well and hardy in the -open, and we’ve had a bully good time. After all, we’ve put a lot of -scout lore into use, when you come to think of it. That’s what scout -lore is for--to use, eh, Peanut?” - -“Guess you’re right. Gee, you’re always right!” said Peanut. “I say -three cheers for Mr. Rogers, the best Scout Master in America! Now, -one----” - -“Sh!” said Rob. “We all agree, but the man in that next berth is -snoring already. He might not agree!” - -“Well, I can snore as loud as he can,” cried Peanut, “if I get the -chance. Let’s turn in. And to-morrow A. M. we’ll be in old Southmead! -Golly, wish I was in the Great Gulf!” - -“You couldn’t tell the other fellers what a good time we’ve had, if you -were,” said Art. - -“That’s so,” Peanut reflected. “Aw, the stiffs! I hadn’t thought about -’em till just this minute. The stiffs! Think of the fun they missed!” - -It was eight o’clock the next morning when the five Scouts and Mr. -Rogers, tanned and lean, with shoes battered and worn thin by the stony -trails, marched up Southmead Main Street from the railroad station, -and found the village just as they had left it. - -“It’s all here, as if we’d never been away!” said Rob. - -“But we are changed,” said Lou. “We’ve got pictures in our heads, and -memories, that we didn’t have before. We’ve lifted up our eyes unto the -hills!” - -“And our feet, too,” said Peanut. “Yes, sir, we are changed. These old -Southmead hills haven’t grown smaller, but our eyes have grown bigger.” - -“You’re a psychologist, Peanut,” laughed Mr. Rogers. - -“I’m a hungry one, whatever it is,” Peanut replied. “Hope ma has saved -some oatmeal.” - -“So do I!” - -“So do I!” - -“So do I!” - -“So do I!” - -“We seem to have the same old appetites, anyhow!” laughed Rob, as -the White Mountain hike ended at the post-office, and the six hikers -scattered for their homes. - - -THE END - - - - -BOOKS BY - -Walter P. Eaton - -ADULT - - -=SKY-LINE CAMPS.= A Notebook of a Wanderer in our Northwestern -Mountains. 320 pp. Cloth, boxed, $2.50. A gift book for every home. - - Mr. Eaton is a great lover of the out-of-doors and in this volume his - power of description finds its greatest opportunity. Lovers of nature - and those who enjoy beauty truthfully pictured will find in this - volume a treasure house of enjoyment. Beautifully illustrated with - many and rare photographs. - - -=PENGUIN PERSONS AND PEPPERMINTS.= A Volume of Essays. By Walter -Prichard Eaton, author, critic and playwright. 252 pp. Cloth, $1.50. - - Fascinating from beginning to end. There are few authors who have - greater ability than Mr. Eaton in making his readers feel they are in - intimate touch with the very purpose and thought of the writer. This - volume will cover every varying mood of the reader. - - -=THE IDYL OF TWIN FIRES.= New. Illustrated with frontispiece and pen -and ink drawings by Thomas Fogarty. Attractively bound and enclosed in -a box. $2.50. - - This genuine and human story of a young college professor who heeded - the call to country life, will appeal to thousands. - - Mr. Eaton is here at his best as he writes of the beauties of country - living. - - -=GREEN TRAILS AND UPLAND PASTURES.= - - Appreciation of Nature, ranging from Massachusetts to Montana, but - chiefly about the Berkshires in their subtle and intimate moods. - - Beautifully illustrated by Walter King Stone. Cloth, boxed, $2.50 - - - - -BOOKS BY - -Frank H. Cheley - - -BOY RIDERS OF THE ROCKIES; or CAMPING ON TOP OF THE WORLD. - -14 full page illustrations from the author’s own photographs. 336 -Pages. $2.00. - -A true story of a wonderful boys’ camp high up in the Colorado Rockies -where annually scores of boys are living again the grand old days of -Buffalo Bill and Kit Carson. - - -THE BOYS’ BOOK OF CAMP FIRES. - -Illustrated by the author’s own pictures of camp-fire life. 400 Pages. -$2.50. - -A standard and beautifully illustrated book of camp life with advice -on all matters pertaining to it. As a camp owner, a director of boys’ -activities for many years, the author knows what advice is needed and -how to give it interestingly. - - -CAMP-FIRE YARNS; or FAMOUS STORIES TOLD AROUND THE CAMP-FIRE. - -352 Pages. $1.50. - -No boy or man has ever forgotten those evenings he spent before the -camp-fire, or forgot the stories which were told. - -Mr. Cheley’s selections are the choicest which have ever been issued. - - -THE MYSTERY OF CHIMNEY ROCK. - -320 Pages. $1.75. - -A fascinating story of the search for gold in the land of the Ute -Indians in the days of ’49. The story of this wonderful period of our -country’s history should interest every boy. - - -_=FOR FATHERS.=_ - -THE JOB OF BEING A DAD. - - 352 Pages. $1.75. - -DAD, WHOSE BOY IS YOURS? - - 160 Pages. $1.25. (Pocket size, limp covers.) - -Every father in the country should read these truly remarkable books. -The author is the President of the Father and Son League of America, -and has had long experience in work with boys. - -He says: “This job of being a dad to a real boy is really the biggest -job in the world,” and he proves it. - - - - -BOOKS BY - -Arthur C. Bartlett - - -SPUNK, LEADER OF THE DOG TEAM. - -The mainspring of this story is found in those dog sled races which -have become an outstanding event of our northern New England season of -winter sports. - -Spunk--strong, masterful, intelligent that he was--won his place in -the heart of his master and as leader of the dog team through weeks -and months of training. He acquired his name because he refused to -whimper when broken limbs had to be set and he justified his name when -on the ice fields of Mount Washington he refused to yield an inch when -yielding would mean certain death and destruction to all. And when the -winning team of the great Derby of dog racing “mushed in” with Spunk -in the lead, he verified all the confidence that his master had in him -when he christened him “Spunk.” - - -THE SEA DOG. - -The Sea Dog is a real dog--noble, brave, self-sacrificing and -intelligent. Pieface, the hero of the tale, was the only heritage left -to this spoiled son of a millionaire who, when the boy was young, lost -his all, leaving his lad to the mercies of the world. Downcast and -discouraged, the lad even tried to drown his only legacy. Fortunately -the dog lived and became of material assistance to his master in -regaining his confidence in himself and his ability to meet the world -on an equality. - - -_=Colored Jackets, Attractively Illustrated, $1.75 each.=_ - - - - -_BOOKS BY_ - -LEWIS E. THEISS - - -=IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY.= A Camping Story. 304 pages. - -=HIS BIG BROTHER.= A Story of the Struggles and Triumphs of a Little -Son of Liberty. 320 pages. - -=LUMBERJACK BOB.= A Tale of the Alleghanies. 320 pages. - -=THE WIRELESS PATROL AT CAMP BRADY.= A Story of How the Boy Campers, -Through Their Knowledge of Wireless, “Did Their Bit.” 320 pages. - -=THE SECRET WIRELESS.= A Story of the Camp Brady Patrol. 320 pages. - -=THE HIDDEN AERIAL.= The Spy Line on the Mountain. 332 pages. - -=THE YOUNG WIRELESS OPERATOR--AFLOAT.= How Roy Mercer Won His Spurs in -the Merchant Marine. 320 pages. - -=THE YOUNG WIRELESS OPERATOR--AS A FIRE PATROL.= The Story of a Young -Wireless Amateur Who Made Good as a Fire Patrol. 352 pages. - -=THE YOUNG WIRELESS OPERATOR--WITH THE OYSTER FLEET.= How Alec -Cunningham Won His Way to the Top in the Oyster Business. 328 pages. - -=THE YOUNG WIRELESS OPERATOR--WITH THE U. S. SECRET SERVICE.= A Story -of Secret Service Work in Which Every Incident is Based Upon Actual -Occurrence. 310 pages. - -=THE WIRELESS OPERATOR--WITH THE U. S. COAST GUARD.= A Remarkable -Picture of the Service Performed by the Patrols Along Our Coast. 320 -pages. - -Cloth Bound--Illustrated by Colored Plates and Photographs - - - - -_By William Drysdale_ - -The Famous - -“Brain and Brawn” Series - -_No boy should grow up without reading these books_ - - -The Young Reporter - -A STORY OF PRINTING HOUSE SQUARE. 300 pp. - -A genuine boys’ book for genuine boys. Full of life, clean, clear -cut and inspiring. It will enlist the interest of every stirring and -wide-awake boy. - - -The Fast Mail - -THE STORY OF A TRAIN BOY. 328 pp. - -The story of the adventures of a boy who fought his way to success with -clean grit and good sense, accomplishing what is within the power of -every American boy if he sets about it. It is full of movement, sound -in sentiment, and wholesome in character. - - -The Beach Patrol - -A STORY OF THE LIFE-SAVING SERVICE. 318 pp. - -A spirited picture of the labors and dangers to which members of the -life-saving service are exposed and which few realize. - - -The Young Supercargo - -A STORY OF THE MERCHANT MARINE. 352 pp. - -This book has all of the interest of “Oliver Optic’s” books, with none -of their improbabilities. - -=The Volumes are Fully Illustrated.= - - -W. A. WILDE COMPANY - -Boston and Chicago - - - - -_By Everett T. Tomlinson_ - -War of the Revolution Series - -=Each Volume Fully Illustrated Price, Cloth,= - - -Every boy who has ever read these historical stories by Dr. Tomlinson -will say that this series of books is one of the best which has -ever been written, for the stories are patriotic, interesting, and -instructive. The heroes in each of the books are resourceful and -devoted to the best interests of their country. Any boy who has never -read these stories has much to look forward to. - -_The series consists of four volumes_:-- - -=Three Colonial Boys.= A Story of the Times of ’76 - -=Three Young Continentals.= A Story of the American Revolution. - -=Washington’s Young Aids.= A Story of the New Jersey Campaign of -1776-1777. - -=Two Young Patriots=; or, Boys of the Frontier. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<div style='display:table; margin-bottom:1em;'> - <div style='display:table-row'> - <div style='display:table-cell; padding-right:0.5em'>Title:</div> - <div style='display:table-cell'>Boy Scouts in the White Mountains</div> - </div> - <div style='display:table-row;'> - <div style='display:table-cell'></div> - <div style='display:table-cell'>The Story of a Long Hike</div> - </div> -</div> -<div style='display:table; margin-bottom:1em;'> -<div style='display:table-row'> - <div style='display:table-cell; padding-right:0.5em'>Author:</div> - <div style='display:table-cell'>Walter Prichard Eaton</div> -</div> -</div> -<div style='display:table; margin-bottom:1em;'> -<div style='display:table-row'> - <div style='display:table-cell; padding-right:0.5em'>Illustrator:</div> - <div style='display:table-cell'>Frank T. Merrill</div> -</div> -</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: June 7, 2021 [eBook #65539]</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> -<div style='display:table; margin-bottom:1em;'> - <div style='display:table-row'> - <div style='display:table-cell; padding-right:0.5em; white-space:nowrap;'>Produced by:</div> - <div style='display:table-cell'>WebRover, Mike Stember, David K. Park and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)</div> - </div> -</div> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BOY SCOUTS IN THE WHITE MOUNTAINS ***</div> - -<div class="chapter x-ebookmaker-drop"> - <div class="figcenter illowp100" id="i_cover" style="max-width: 30em;"> - <img class="w100" src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Cover" /> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="page-in-box"> - -<p class="center"><i>BOOKS BY</i><br /> -<b>Walter P. Eaton</b></p> - -<hr class="r5" /> - -<p class="hanging2">THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE. A story of -how the Chipmunk Patrol was started, what they did -and how they did it.</p> - -<p class="hanging2">BOY SCOUTS IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. A -story of Boy Scouting in the Dismal Swamp.</p> - -<p class="hanging2">BOY SCOUTS IN THE WHITE MOUNTAINS. -A story of a hike over the Franconia and Presidential -Ranges.</p> - -<p class="hanging2">BOY SCOUTS OF THE WILDCAT PATROL. -A story of Boy Scouting.</p> - -<p class="hanging2">PEANUT—CUB REPORTER. A Boy Scout’s life -and adventures on a newspaper.</p> - -<p class="hanging2">BOY SCOUTS IN GLACIER PARK. The adventures -of two young Easterners in the heart of the -High Rockies.</p> - -<p class="hanging2">BOY SCOUTS AT CRATER LAKE. A Story of -the High Cascades.</p> - -<p class="hanging2">BOY SCOUTS ON KATAHDIN. A story of the -Maine Woods.</p> - -<p class="hanging2">HAWKEYE’S ROOMMATE. A story of the very life -of a truly American prep school—how the boys -studied, played and found lasting friendships and -learned the lessons of life.</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="figcenter illowp48" id="frontispiece" style="max-width: 30em;"> - <img class="w100" src="images/frontispiece.jpg" alt="" /> - </div> - </div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="page-in-box"> - -<h1><big>Boy Scouts in the - White Mountains</big><br /> - <small><i>THE STORY OF A LONG HIKE</i></small></h1> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<p class="center"> -By<br /> -WALTER PRICHARD EATON<br /> -<i>ILLUSTRATED BY</i><br /> -FRANK T. MERRILL -</p> - -<div class="figcenter illowe6" id="docendo"> - <img class="w100" src="images/docendo.jpg" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>Docendo discimus</p></div> -</div> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<p class="center"> -W. A. WILDE COMPANY<br /> -BOSTON CHICAGO -</p> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - </div> - -<p class="center"> -<i>Copyrighted, 1914</i><br /> -<span class="smcap">By W. A. Wilde Company</span><br /> -<i>All rights reserved</i> -</p> - -<hr class="r5" /> -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Boy Scouts in the White Mountains</span> - </p> - -<p class="center">NOTE</p> - -<p>The author and publishers desire to express -their appreciation of the courtesy -extended by Small Maynard & Co. for -the use of the black and white plates used -in this volume, which are taken from their -“White Mountain Trails” and also to -“The Northward-Ho” for the use of the -reproduction of the Presidential Range -used on the cover.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="center"> -<i>To<br /> -Sydney Bruce Snow -</i> -</p> - -<p class="center"> -<i>In memory of a cheerful fire<br /> -and a doleful broken egg<br /> -beside the<br /> -Lakes of the Clouds<br /> -</i> -</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="Contents">Contents</h2> -</div> - -<table class="toc" summary="contents"> -<tbody> -<tr><td class="chapnum">I.</td> - <td class="title"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">Peanut Calls to Arms</a></td> - <td class="page">13</td> - </tr> -<tr><td class="chapnum">II.</td> - <td class="title"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">Getting Ready for the Hike</a></td> - <td class="page">23</td> - </tr> -<tr><td class="chapnum">III.</td> - <td class="title"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">Fourth of July on Kinsman</a></td> - <td class="page">34</td> - </tr> -<tr><td class="chapnum">IV.</td> - <td class="title"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">Moosilauke</a></td> - <td class="page">60</td> - </tr> -<tr><td class="chapnum">V.</td> - <td class="title"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">Lost River and the Ladies</a></td> - <td class="page">82</td> - </tr> -<tr><td class="chapnum">VI.</td> - <td class="title"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">A Strange Adventure in the Night</a></td> - <td class="page">105</td> - </tr> -<tr><td class="chapnum">VII.</td> - <td class="title"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">Over the Lafayette Ridge, with a Dinner Party at the End</a></td> - <td class="page">123</td> - </tr> -<tr><td class="chapnum">VIII.</td> - <td class="title"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">On the Forehead of the Old Man of the Mountain</a></td> - <td class="page">154</td> - </tr> -<tr><td class="chapnum">IX.</td> - <td class="title"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">The Crawford Notch </a></td> - <td class="page">163</td> - </tr> -<tr><td class="chapnum">X.</td> - <td class="title"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">A Fight with the Storm on the Crawford Bridle Path</a></td> - <td class="page">177</td> - </tr> -<tr><td class="chapnum">XI.</td> - <td class="title"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">To the Summit, Safe at Last </a></td> - <td class="page">194</td> - </tr> -<tr><td class="chapnum">XII.</td> - <td class="title"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">Down Tuckerman’s Ravine</a></td> - <td class="page">223</td> - </tr> -<tr><td class="chapnum">XIII.</td> - <td class="title"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">Up the Huntington Head Wall</a></td> - <td class="page">243</td> - </tr> -<tr><td class="chapnum">XIV.</td> - <td class="title"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">The Giant’s Bedclothes </a></td> - <td class="page">257</td> - </tr> -<tr><td class="chapnum">XV.</td> - <td class="title"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">With Rob, Art and Peanut into the Great Gulf </a></td> - <td class="page">266</td> - </tr> -<tr><td class="chapnum">XVI.</td> - <td class="title"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">First Aid in the Clouds! </a></td> - <td class="page">272</td> - </tr> -<tr><td class="chapnum">XVII.</td> - <td class="title"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">Peanut Learns Where the Six Husbands’ Trail Got Its Name</a></td> - <td class="page">282</td> - </tr> -<tr><td class="chapnum">XVIII.</td> - <td class="title"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">Through King’s Ravine and Home Again</a></td> - <td class="page">290</td> - </tr> -</tbody> -</table> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="Boy_Scouts_in_the_White">Boy Scouts in the White -Mountains</h2> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">Peanut Calls to Arms</p> - -<p>Nobody who had seen Art Bruce in a scout suit -would ever have recognized him in his present -costume. He had on black silk knee-breeches. On -his low shoes were sewed two enormous buckles, cut -out of pasteboard, with tinfoil from a paper of sweet -chocolate pasted over them to make them look like -silver. Instead of a shirt, he wore a woman’s white -waist, with a lot of lace in front, which stood out, -stiff with starch. His jacket was of black velvet. -Instead of a collar, he wore a black handkerchief -wrapped around like an old-fashioned neck-cloth, -the kind you see in pictures of George Washington’s -time. On his head was a wig, powered white, with -a queue hanging down behind. As he came out of -the boys’ dressing room into the school auditorium -Peanut Morrison emitted a wild whoop.</p> - -<p>“Gee, look at Art!” he cried. “He thinks he’s -George Washington going to deliver his last message -to Congress!”</p> - -<p>Everybody looked at Art, and Art turned red. -“Shut up,” he said. “You wait till <i>you’re</i> all -dolled up, and see what <i>you</i> look like!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, and you’d better be getting dressed right -away,” said one of the teachers to Peanut, who -scampered off laughing.</p> - -<p>Art stood about, very uncomfortable, watching -the other boys and girls come from the dressing -rooms, in their costumes. It was the dress rehearsal -for a Colonial pageant the Southmead High School -was going to present. They were going to sing a -lot of old-time songs, and dance old-time dances -(the girls doing most of the dancing). The stage -was supposed to represent a Colonial parlor. Several -people had loaned the school old mahogany furniture, -the light was to come largely from candles, -and finally, while the party was supposed to be in -full blast, a messenger was going to dash in, breathless, -announce the Battle of Lexington, and call the -men-folks of Southmead to arms. Then the men -would run for their guns, say good-bye to the -women, and march off. Art couldn’t see why they -should march off in all their best clothes, and had -said so to the teacher who got up the play, but she -had pointed out that they couldn’t afford to hire two -costumes for all the boys, so they’d just have to pretend -they went home for their other clothes. Art -was not yet satisfied, however.</p> - -<p>The girls were in funny old costumes with wide -skirts and powdered hair. They were all having a -much better time than Art was.</p> - -<p>“Gee, they <i>like</i> to dress up,” thought Art, as he -watched Lucy Parker practicing a courtesy before her -own reflection in a glass door, and patting her hair.</p> - -<p>Peanut didn’t have to dress up in these elaborate -clothes. He was the messenger who rushed in to -announce the call to arms. He was also his own -horse. Putting a board across two chairs just behind -the door leading to the stage, he took a couple -of drumsticks and imitated a galloping horse, beginning -softly, as if the horse was far away, and -drumming louder and louder till the horse was supposed -to reach the door. Then he cried “Whoa!”, -dropped the drumsticks, and dashed out upon the -stage. Peanut had been rehearsing his part at home, -and the imitation of the galloping horse was really -very good.</p> - -<p>As soon as everybody was dressed, the rehearsal -began, with the music teacher at the piano, and the -other teachers running about getting the actors into -place. Lucy Parker was supposed to be giving the -party in her house, and the other characters came -on one by one, or in couples, while Lucy courtesied -to each of them. The girls courtesied back, while -the men were supposed to make low bows. There -weren’t many lines to speak, but Dennie O’Brien -was supposed to be a visiting French count, with -very gallant manners, and he had to say “Bon soir, -Mademoiselle Parker” (Lucy’s ancestors had lived -in Southmead during the Revolution, so she kept -her own name in the play), and then he had to lift -her hand and kiss it. Dennie had never been able -to do this at any of the rehearsals yet without giggling, -and setting everybody else to giggling. But -this time the teacher in charge spoke severely.</p> - -<p>“Now, Dennis,” she said, “this is a dress rehearsal. -You go through your part right!”</p> - -<p>“Yes’m,” Dennie answered, feeling of the little -black goatee stuck on his chin to see if it was on -firm, and trying to keep his face straight.</p> - -<p>When his turn came to enter, he got off his “Bon -soir, Mademoiselle Parker” all right, and bowed over -her hand without a snicker. But, just as he kissed -her fingers, his goatee came off and fell to the floor. -Everybody laughed, except Lucy. She was mad at -him, because she wanted the play to be a great success, -and before he could lift his face, she brought -her hand up quickly and slapped his cheek a good, -sounding whack.</p> - -<p>Dennie jumped back, surprised. Then he picked -up his goatee, while Lucy stamped her foot. “You -great clumsy—<i>boy</i>!” she exclaimed.</p> - -<p>“Serves you right, Dennis,” said the teacher.</p> - -<p>“Well, I can’t help it if it won’t stick,” Dennie -answered. “Gee, I’ll <i>bite</i> your old hand next -time!” he muttered to Lucy.</p> - -<p>She ignored him, and the rehearsal proceeded. -Art entered next, with Mary Pearson on his arm. -Mary dropped a courtesy, and Art bowed.</p> - -<p>The teacher clapped her hands for the rehearsal -to stop. “Oh, Arthur,” she said, “don’t bow as if -you had a ramrod down your back!”</p> - -<p>“Well, I feel’s if I had,” said Art.</p> - -<p>“But don’t act so!” the teacher laughed. “Now, -try it again.”</p> - -<p>Art tried once more to put his hand on his breast, -and bow gracefully, but he certainly felt like a fool -in these clothes, and made a poor success of it.</p> - -<p>“Boys are <i>all</i> clumsy,” he heard Lucy whisper to -one of the other girls.</p> - -<p>After the guests had all arrived, they sang several -old-time songs, and then four boys and four girls -danced the minuet. Art didn’t have to take part in -this. He was supposed to sit and chat in the background, -which was easy. After the minuet, however, -everybody had to get up and dance a Virginia -Reel. While they were in the middle of the dance, -Peanut’s galloping horse was heard; the dance -stopped, the cry of “Whoa!” was shouted at the -door, and Peanut, in clothes made dusty by sprinkling -flour on them, dashed into the room, breathless, -and panted, “War has begun! We have fought -the British at Lexington and Concord! Every man -to arms! The enemy must be driven out of Boston!”</p> - -<p>There was nothing stiff about Peanut, and nobody -laughed when he came on covered with flour. He -was really panting. He gasped out his first sentence, -and ended with a thrilling shout. Then he -dashed forth again, and his horse was heard galloping -rapidly away.</p> - -<p>“Peanut has the artistic temperament,” one of the -teachers whispered to another, who nodded.</p> - -<p>No sooner had Peanut gone than the men on the -stage piled after him, and while the women huddled -whispering in excited groups, they grabbed guns -and came back on the stage, when there were good-byes -and pretended tears, and Lou Merritt, dressed -up like a Revolutionary minister, gave the departing -soldiers his blessing.</p> - -<p>“Just the same, it’s silly,” Art cried, as the rehearsal -was over. “Nobody ever marched off to -war in silk pants and pumps. Why can’t we put -on our own old clothes, with high boots, when we -go for the guns? Even if we don’t have Continental -uniforms, the old clothes will look more -sensible than these things.”</p> - -<p>“Sure!” cried Peanut, to the teacher. “Look -here, Miss Eldridge, here’s a picture of the Concord -statue of the Minute Man. Just long pants stuck -into his boots. Let ’em just do that, and sling -blanket rolls over their shoulders, like Scouts. Then -they’ll look like business.”</p> - -<p>“I guess you are right, boys,” she said. “Well, -try it again. Who lives nearest? You, Joe, and -you, Bert. Run and borrow a few old blankets from -your mothers.”</p> - -<p>Ten minutes later Peanut once more galloped up -to interrupt the Virginia Reel, the men rushed out -for their guns, and pulled on their own trousers, -slung blanket rolls over their shoulders, discarded -their powdered wigs, and came back looking much -more like minute men going to war. They formed -a strong contrast now to the girls, in their fine -clothes. Art felt easy at last, with a blanket roll -covering his frilled shirt and a gun in his hand. He -gave commands to his company in a firm voice, no -longer halting and awkward. He even had a sudden -inspiration, which undoubtedly improved the -play, though that wasn’t why he carried it out.</p> - -<p>Lucy Parker, she who had been so contemptuous -of boys, was acting for all she was worth in this -scene. Prattie was supposed to be her lover, and -she was clinging to him with one hand while bidding -him good-bye, and mopping her eyes with the other. -Art, as captain of the minute men, suddenly strode -over to her, grabbed Prattie, dragged him away, -and put him into line with the other soldiers. Lucy -looked indignant, and forgot to wipe her eyes. Art -glanced at her triumphantly, and Miss Eldridge -cried, “Do that on the night of the play, Arthur! -That’s fine—only don’t glare at Lucy.”</p> - -<p>This inspiration rather restored Art’s spirits. He -had got square with Lucy Parker, anyhow! He -and Peanut dressed as quickly as they could, and -left the school building, walking home up the village -street, where sleigh-bells were jingling. Art grew -glum again.</p> - -<p>“Hang the old rehearsals!” said he. “It’s too -late to go skating.”</p> - -<p>“I like ’em,” Peanut replied. “It’s lots o’ fun.”</p> - -<p>“You’re an actor, I guess,” said Art. “Gee, you -come puffing in just as if you were really out of -breath!”</p> - -<p>“I <i>am</i>,” said Peanut. “I get to thinking about -galloping up on the horse so hard while I’m drumming -that I really get excited. Why, how can you -help it?”</p> - -<p>“Guess <i>you</i> can’t,” Art answered. “But I can. -I’m not built that way. Play acting doesn’t seem -real to me, it seems sort of—sort of girls’ stuff.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I don’t mean you, of course,” Art laughed. -“But dancing, and all that—golly, I feel as if I was -wasting time. Wish vacation was here, so we could -get away somewhere into the wilds again.”</p> - -<p>“Sure, so do I,” answered Peanut, “but me for -having all the fun I can while I’m in civilization. -Where are we going to hike this summer, by the -way?”</p> - -<p>“I’ve been thinking about that,” said Art. “I -was thinking about it in study period—that’s why I -flunked my history recitation. Got a good idea, too.”</p> - -<p>“Out with it,” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>“The White Mountains,” said Art. “It came to -me while I was looking at that picture of the Alps -which hangs on the side wall. These mountains -about Southmead, they’re not really mountains—only -hills. But we’ve had a lot of fun climbing ’em. -Think what fun it would be to climb <i>real</i> mountains. -We can’t get to the Alps or the Rockies, but Mr. -Rogers told me once it wouldn’t cost any more to -hike over the White Mountains than it cost us to go -to the Dismal Swamp.”</p> - -<p>“Me for them,” cried Peanut. “That means saving -twenty-five dollars between now and July. -Wow! I’ll have to do some hustling!”</p> - -<p>“You’ll have to cut out some candy,” laughed -Art.</p> - -<p>“I’ve not bought any candy since—since yesterday,” -the other replied. “Whom’ll we take with us -on this hike?”</p> - -<p>“Anybody that will go,” said Art. “Guess I’d -better call a scout meeting right away, and put it -up to the fellers.”</p> - -<p>“Sure, to-night,” cried Peanut. “I’m going -home now to see if the old hen’s laid an egg to sell!”</p> - -<p>“You’ll need a lot of eggs to save twenty-five dollars,” -said Art.</p> - -<p>“Not so many, with eggs at fifty-five cents a -dozen,” Peanut replied. Then he turned in at his -gate, and began to skip sideways up the path, hitting -the soles of his shoes together in such a way -that he exactly imitated the galloping of a horse. -“Whoa!” he cried at the door, and as he entered -the house, Art could hear him shouting at his -mother, “To arms! The war has begun. We -have fought the British at Lexington and Concord!”</p> - -<p>Then Art grinned as he heard Mrs. Morrison reply, -“Have you? Well, now you split some kindlings.”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">Getting Ready for the Hike</p> - -<p>For the next few months several of the Scouts -saved up money for the White Mountain hike. -Art, as patrol leader, and as originator of the idea, -felt that it was up to him to do all in his power to -encourage the plan, so he borrowed Rob Everts’ -radiopticon (Rob himself was away at college now), -and secured from Mr. Rogers, the Scout Master, -who had been to the White Mountains many times, -a bunch of picture post-cards and photographs, -showing all kinds of views from that region—the -Old Man of the Mountain, the clouds seen from the -top of Mount Washington, the Great Gulf between -Washington and the northern peaks, the snow arch -in Tuckerman’s Ravine, and so on. Mr. Rogers -himself came to the meeting and explained the pictures, -describing the places enthusiastically. Some -of his own photographs were taken at very steep -places on the trails, and here some of the boys -gasped. One picture in particular showed Mr. -Rogers himself climbing a ledge, almost as steep as -the side of a house, with a pack on his back and a -blanket roll over his shoulder.</p> - -<p>“Gee, do you have to carry all that weight up -those places?” demanded Prattie.</p> - -<p>“You do if you want to eat and keep warm when -you get to the top,” Mr. Rogers laughed.</p> - -<p>“Me for little old Southmead,” Prattie replied.</p> - -<p>“Yes, you stay right here, and dance the minuet -with Lucy Parker,” said Art scornfully. “You big, -lazy tub!”</p> - -<p>Prattie bristled up, but the other Scouts laughed -him down. However, there were several more who -seemed, as time went on, to feel rather as Prattie -did toward the White Mountain hike. Some of -them got discouraged at the task of saving up so -much money. Besides, it was easier, when spring -came, to go out and play baseball than it was to -work for a few pennies, which had to be put in a -bank and saved for summer—a long way off. -Others didn’t see the trip in the light Art and Peanut -saw it. It seemed too hard work to them.</p> - -<p>“They make me tired,” Art declared one spring -afternoon. “They haven’t any gumption.”</p> - -<p>“Boys are something like men, I guess,” Peanut -answered sagely. “Some men get out and do -things, an’ get rich or go to Congress, while others -don’t. Look right here in Southmead. There’s -Tom Perkins, he’s got everything you want in his -store, from sponges to snow-shoes, and he’s rich. -Bill Green, who might do just as well as he does, -don’t care whether he sells you anything or not; he’s -too lazy to stock up with fresh goods all the while, -and he’s poor and don’t amount to much. I guess -when Tom Perkins was our age he’d have gone -to the White Mountains with us, and Bill Green -wouldn’t.”</p> - -<p>“Probably,” said Art, “but there are too many -Bill Greens in the world!”</p> - -<p>“Right-o,” said Peanut. “I’ll tell you something -else, Art. Some of the fellers’ folks won’t let ’em -go. I was talking with Dennie’s old man the other -day. Gee, he’s got money enough! He could <i>give</i> -Dennie twenty-five dollars and never know it. He -said, ‘What’s the matter with you boys? Ain’t -Southmead good enough for you, that you want to -go hikin’ off a thousand miles?’ He got my goat, -and I just came back at him!”</p> - -<p>“What did you say?” asked Art.</p> - -<p>Peanut chuckled. “I wasn’t exactly polite,” he -answered. “‘Mr. O’Brien,’ said I, ‘if you’d been -off more, you’d know that one of the best ways to -get an education is to travel. Southmead’s only a -little corner of a big world.’ ‘Well, it’s big enough -for me, and for Dennis,’ he says, and I answered, -‘It’s too big for you. You’re so small you’d rattle -’round in a pea-pod.’”</p> - -<p>“And then what happened?” asked Art.</p> - -<p>“Then I ran,” Peanut laughed. “Gee, he was -mad! Old tightwad! Dennie wants to go, awful -bad.”</p> - -<p>As vacation time drew near in June, the number -of Scouts who were going to be able to make the -trip had boiled down to four—Art and Peanut, of -course, with Frank Nichols and Lou Merritt. Those -readers who have also read “The Boy Scouts of -Berkshire” will recall that Lou Merritt was the boy -who had started in as a sneak and a liar. But that -time was long since past. He had lived with Miss -Swain now for several years; he took care of her -garden for her, and made some money for himself -besides, raising lettuce, radishes, cauliflowers and -other vegetables. He was in the high school, and -was going from there to the Amherst Agricultural -College. Lou was now one of the most respected -boys in town, and Miss Swain was so fond of him -that she had practically ordered him to go on the -hike, for he had worked hard in the garden all the -spring, besides studying evenings. She was going -to hire a gardener while he was away, but the money -for the trip he had earned himself. In addition to -these four there was, of course, Mr. Rogers, the -Scout Master, and Rob Everts, who would be back -from college in a week or two now, and was going on -the hike for a vacation, before he started in summer -work in his father’s bank. That made a party of six, -which Mr. Rogers declared was, after all, enough.</p> - -<div class="figcenter illowp100" id="applachian-camp" style="max-width: 30em;"> - <img class="w100" src="images/applachian-camp.jpg" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>The Appalachian Mountain Club camp in Tuckerman’s Ravine</p></div> -</div> - -<p>“Just a good, chummy number,” he said. “The -Appalachian camps will hold us without overcrowding, -and we won’t always be worrying about stragglers -getting lost.”</p> - -<p>“What are the Appalachian camps?” asked Art.</p> - -<p>“The Appalachian Club is a club of men, with -headquarters in Boston,” Mr. Rogers answered, -“and they do more than anybody else to make -hiking in the White Mountains possible. They -have built dozens and dozens of trails, which they -keep cleaned out and marked clearly, and at several -strategic points they have built shelters where you -can camp over night or get in out of the storm. -They have a stone hut on the col between Mounts -Madison and Adams, a shelter in the Great Gulf, -another in Tuckerman’s Ravine, and so on. I’ve -been mighty glad to get to some of these shelters, -I can tell you.”</p> - -<p>“Gee, those names—Great Gulf—Tuckerman’s -Ravine—make you want to get to ’em in a hurry!” -cried Peanut. “Let’s plan an equipment right off.”</p> - -<p>“That is pretty important,” said Mr. Rogers. -“We want to go as light as we can, and yet we’ve -got to keep warm. I’ve been in a snow-storm on -Mount Washington in the middle of August.”</p> - -<p>“Whew!” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>So the four Scouts began planning, at their shoes, -where plans for every hike ought to begin. As Mr. -Rogers put it, “a soldier is no better than his feet.” -Each boy got out his stoutest boots, made sure that -the linings were sound so there would be no rough -places to chafe the feet, and took them to the cobbler’s. -If the soles had worn thin, the cobbler resoled -them, and in all of them he put hobnails, so -they would grip the steep rocks without slipping.</p> - -<p>None of the Southmead Scouts wore the kind of -scout uniform which has short knee pants and socks -instead of stockings. As most of their hikes were -through woods, this uniform would have been highly -unpractical, resulting in scratched legs. Besides, -all the larger Scouts, like Art and Peanut, said it -was too much like the clothes rich little children -wear! Instead, the Southmead troop generally -wore khaki trousers and leggings.</p> - -<p>“I think leggings are going to be too hot for this -trip,” Mr. Rogers said. “We’ll have very little brush -work to do. Suppose we cut out the leggings in -favor of long khaki trousers. We’ll each want an -extra pair of heavy socks, and you, Lou, bring along -a needle and plenty of darning cotton, to repair -holes. Then we’ll want an extra shirt and set of underclothes -apiece, so we can change in camp after -a sweaty climb. Also, we’ll all want sweaters and a -blanket.”</p> - -<p>“How about food?” asked Art.</p> - -<p>“And cooking kits?” asked Peanut.</p> - -<p>“And my camera?” said Frank.</p> - -<p>“One camera only!” laughed Mr. Rogers. “You -can settle whose that’ll be between you. Most of -our food we’ll get as we go along. But it would be -just as well if we got a few things before we start, -such as salt and a few soup sticks and some dehydrated -vegetables, such as spinach, and maybe some -army emergency rations.”</p> - -<p>“Brr,” said Peanut. “Art and I tried them once. -Taste like—well, I’m too polite to tell you.”</p> - -<p>“Nevertheless, you can put a small can in your -pocket and go off for a day without toting a whole -kitchen along,” Mr. Rogers answered, “and that’s a -help when you are climbing.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” said Peanut, “but I’d rather chew -raisins.”</p> - -<p>“He’ll eat it just the same, when he gets hungry,” -put in Art. “Now, about kits. Can’t we divide -up? We oughtn’t to need much stuff for only six.”</p> - -<p>“I’ve got two kettles, that nest, one inside the -other,” said Peanut, “and a small frying-pan.”</p> - -<p>“I’ve got a good sized fry pan,” said Frank.</p> - -<p>“And I’ve got a wire broiler, that shuts up and -fits into my pocket,” said Mr. Rogers.</p> - -<p>“And I’ve got a collapsible camp lantern, that -you can see to shut it up by,” said Lou.</p> - -<p>“Then we’ll do with just those things,” Art said. -“Of course, everybody’ll bring his own cup and -knife and spoon. Oh, and how about maps and -compasses, Mr. Rogers? Will we need compasses?”</p> - -<p>“You bet, we’ll <i>all</i> take compasses. Everybody’s -got to have a compass in his pocket before we start.”</p> - -<p>“Why?” asked Frank. “Can’t you always see -where you are going on a mountain? Those pictures -of Washington you showed us looked as if the -mountain was all bare rock.”</p> - -<p>“That’s just why we need the compasses,” Mr. -Rogers answered. “You can follow a path through -woods, no matter how thick a cloud you may be in, -but when you get up on the bare ledges of the -Presidentials, the path is marked only by little piles -of stones, called cairns, every fifty feet or so, and -when a cloud comes up you can’t see, often, from -one to the next, and if you once get away from the -path and started in a wrong direction, you are lost. -Many people have been lost on Mount Washington -just that way, and either starved or frozen to death. -If you have a compass, you can steer a compass line -down the mountain till you come to water, and follow -the brook out toward the north where there are -houses at the base. But if you haven’t a compass, -and get to going south, you get into a wilderness, -and it would go hard with you. Mount Washington -is really a dangerous mountain, even if it is only -6,293 feet high. The storms come quickly and often -without warning, and it can get very cold up there, -as I told you, even in midsummer. Yes, sir, we’ll -all take compasses, and before we tackle the old boy -we’ll have some lectures, too, on how to act in case -of cloud!”</p> - -<p>“Don’t we want maps, too?” said Art. “Gee, it -sounds more exciting every minute!”</p> - -<p>“I have the maps,” Mr. Rogers said. “Here are -the government maps of the Presidentials, and here -is the little Appalachian Club book, with maps and -trails.”</p> - -<p>He brought out a small book in a green leather -cover like a pocketbook, and opened it, unfolding -two maps of the Presidential range, like big blueprints.</p> - -<p>The boys leaned their heads together over it, and -began to spell out the trails.</p> - -<p>“Gulf Side Trail,” cried Art. “That sounds good.”</p> - -<p>“Here’s the Crawford Bridle Path—that’s a long -one—shall we go up that?” asked Lou.</p> - -<p>Mr. Rogers nodded. “That’s the way we’ll get -up Washington,” he said.</p> - -<p>“Hi, I like this one!” Peanut exclaimed. “Six -Husbands’ Trail! She goes down—or <i>he</i> does, seeing -it’s husbands—into the Great Gulf, and then up -again—let’s see—up Jefferson. Wow, by the contour -intervals it looks like a steep one!”</p> - -<p>“It is a steep one—wait till you see it,” said Mr. -Rogers.</p> - -<p>Art had now turned back from the map into the -reading matter.</p> - -<p>“Listen to this!” he exclaimed. “Here’s a description -of the Tuckerman Ravine path up Mount -Washington. It’s three and six-tenth miles, and the -time given for it is four hours and fifteen minutes. -That’s less than a mile an hour. Gee, I call that -pretty slow!”</p> - -<p>“Do you?” laughed the Scout Master. “Well, -if we average a mile an hour on the steep trails, I’ll -be satisfied. You wait till you hit the head wall -with a pack on your back, and a blanket on your -shoulder, and see how many miles an hour you want -to travel!”</p> - -<p>“Keeps sounding better and better!” cried Peanut. -“Golly, I can’t wait! When do we start?”</p> - -<p>It was agreed, as soon as Rob got home from college, -to start the day before the Fourth of July, and -celebrate the Fourth in the mountains. Rob suspected -that Mr. Rogers suggested this date partially -in order to keep Peanut from getting into trouble -“the night before,” as Peanut was always a leader -in the attempts to ring the Congregational church -bell, and this year the sheriff had declared he’d arrest -any boy he caught near the steeple. But Peanut -was too excited over the mountain hike to worry -much at losing the night before fun. On the afternoon -of the second, all five Scouts had their equipments -ready, and brought them to Mr. Rogers’ -house, which was nearest to the station. The next -morning they were on hand half an hour before train -time, and marched to the station with a flag flying, -for Peanut declared, as he unfurled it, that he was -going to plant Old Glory on the top of something -on the Fourth of July.</p> - -<p>Two hours later they changed cars for the White -Mountain express, at Springfield, and soon were -rolling up the Connecticut valley, through country -which was strange to them.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">Fourth of July on Kinsman</p> - -<p>As the train passed along the high embankment -above the village of Deerfield, Massachusetts, -the boys crowded to the windows on the left side of -the car, and gazed out upon the meadows where -they had camped at the turning point of their first -long hike, several years before. The village looked -sleepy and quiet, under its great trees.</p> - -<p>“Golly, they need waking up again!” Peanut -laughed. “Remember how we trimmed ’em in -baseball? There’s the field we played on, too.”</p> - -<p>But almost before the rest could follow Peanut’s -beckoning finger, the train was past. Deerfield was -the last familiar spot they saw. Their way led northward, -mile after mile, beside the Connecticut River, -and they began to get a pretty good idea of what a -lengthy thing a big river is.</p> - -<p>“Take a good look at that river, boys,” said Mr. -Rogers, “because in a few days we are going to -eat our lunch at one of its head waters, and you can -see what little beginnings big things have.”</p> - -<p>In the afternoon, they came in sight of Mount -Ascutney, close to the river in Windsor, Vermont.</p> - -<p>“That’s only the height of Greylock, which we’ve -climbed,” Mr. Rogers told them. “But you’ll begin -to see some of the big fellows pretty soon.”</p> - -<p>Sure enough, it was not long before Art, who was -looking out of the eastern window, gave a cry. -“There’s a big blue lump, with what looks like a -house on top!”</p> - -<p>Mr. Rogers looked. “You’re right, it’s a big -lump, all right! That’s the second one we’ll climb. -It’s Moosilauke.” He peered sharply out of the -window. “There,” he added, “do you see a saddleback -mountain beyond it, which looks like Greylock? -That’s Kinsman. We’ll celebrate the Fourth -to-morrow, on top of him.”</p> - -<p>“Hooray!” cried Peanut. “I got two packs of -firecrackers in my kettle!”</p> - -<p>“How high is it?” asked Frank.</p> - -<p>“About 4,200 feet,” Mr. Rogers answered. “That’s -only 700 feet higher than Greylock, but I can promise -you it will seem more, and there’ll be a different -view.”</p> - -<p>Peanut was running from one side of the car to -the other, trying to see everything. But the nearer -they got to the mountains, the less of the mountains -they saw. After the train turned up the narrow -valley of the Ammonoosuc, at Woodsville, in fact, -they saw no more mountains at all. An hour later -they got off the train at the Sugar Hill station. So -did a great many other people. There were many -motors and mountain wagons waiting to carry off -the new arrivals. The boys, at Art’s suggestion, -let these get out of the way before they started, so -the dust would have a chance to settle. It was late -in the afternoon when they finally set out.</p> - -<p>“How far have we got to go?” asked Frank.</p> - -<p>“Seven or eight miles,” Mr. Rogers answered, “if -we want to camp at the base of Kinsman. If you’d -rather walk it in the morning, we can camp along -this road.”</p> - -<p>“No, let’s get there to-night! Don’t care if I -starve, I’m going to keep on till I see the mountains,” -cried Peanut.</p> - -<p>The rest were equally eager, so up the road they -plodded, a road which mounted steadily through -second growth timber, mile after mile, with scarce -a house on it. After an hour or more, they came in -sight of Sugar Hill village, one street of houses -straggling up a hill ahead. They increased their -pace, and soon Peanut, who was leading, gave a -cry which startled several people walking on the -sidewalk. The rest hurried up. Peanut had come -to the top of the road, and was looking off eastward -excitedly. There were the mountains! Near at -hand, hardly a stone’s throw, it seemed, across the -valley below, lay a long, forest-clad bulwark, rising -into domes. Beyond that shot up a larger rampart, -sharply peaked, of naked rock. Off to the left, beyond -that, growing bluer and bluer into the distance, -was a billowing sea of mountains, and very far off, -to the northwest, almost like a mist on the horizon, -lay the biggest pyramid of all, which Mr. Rogers -told them was Mount Washington.</p> - -<p>“Some mountains, those!” Peanut exclaimed. -“Gee, I guess we won’t climb ’em all in two -weeks!”</p> - -<p>“I guess not,” Rob laughed.</p> - -<p>They turned to the right now, passing a big hotel -on the very crest of the hill, and as they passed, the -setting sun behind them turned all the mountains a -bright amethyst, so that they looked, as Lou put it, -“like great big jewels.”</p> - -<p>“It’s beautiful!” he added, enthusiastically.</p> - -<p>“Make a poem about it,” said Peanut. “Say, Mr. -Rogers, Lou writes poetry. You oughter read it! -He wrote a poem to Lucy Parker one day, didn’t -you, Lou?”</p> - -<p>“Shut up,” said Lou, turning red.</p> - -<p>“Well, if I could write poetry, this view would -make me do it, all right,” Rob put in. “Now where -to, Mr. Rogers?”</p> - -<p>“Getting hungry?” said the Scout Master.</p> - -<p>“I sure am.”</p> - -<p>“Well, in an hour we’ll be at camp. All down-hill, -too.”</p> - -<p>“Hooray!” cried Art. “This pack is getting -heavy.”</p> - -<p>The party now turned sharply down the hill toward -the east, and the great double range of the Franconia -Mountains, which Mr. Rogers named for them. -The highest peak on the north of the farther range -was Lafayette, 5,200 feet high. The northern peak -of the first range was Cannon Mountain, the Old -Man’s face being on the farther side of it. To the -south the twin summits, like a saddleback, were the -two peaks of Kinsman, which they would climb in -the morning. As they dropped rapidly down the -hill, they suddenly saw to the south, in the fading -light, a huge bulk of a mountain filling up the vista. -“That’s Moosilauke,” Mr. Rogers said. “We tackle -him day after to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>It was almost dark when they reached the valley, -and turned south along a sandy road with -the big black wall of Cannon seeming to tower -over them. It grew quite dark while they were still -tramping.</p> - -<p>“Hope you know your way, Mr. Scout Master,” -said Peanut, who had ceased to run on ahead.</p> - -<p>“Half a mile more,” Mr. Rogers laughed.</p> - -<p>Presently they heard a brook, and a moment later -stood on a bridge. The brook was evidently coming -down from that great black bulk of Cannon to -the left, which lifted its dome up to the stars.</p> - -<p>“Halt!” Mr. Rogers cried. “Here’s Copper Mine -Brook.”</p> - -<p>He led the way through the fence side of the -brook, and two minutes later the party stood in a -pine grove, carpeted with soft needles.</p> - -<p>“Camp!” said the Scout Master. “Art, you and -the rest get a fire going. Take Lou’s lantern and -find some stones. There are plenty right in the -bed of the brook—nothing but. Peanut, come with -me.”</p> - -<p>The Scout Master led Peanut out of the grove to -the south, and up over a pasture knoll a few hundred -feet. At the top of the knoll they saw a white -house below them, a big barn, and a cottage. Descending -quickly, Mr. Rogers led Peanut through -the wood-shed, as if it were his own house, and -knocked at the kitchen door.</p> - -<p>As the Scout Master and Peanut entered, a man -and a little boy arose, the man’s face expressing first -astonishment and then joyous welcome.</p> - -<p>“Well, of all things!” he cried. “Did you drop -out of the sky?”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Sheldon, this is Bobbie Morrison, otherwise -known as Peanut,” said Mr. Rogers. “And how is -your Bobbie?”</p> - -<p>The little fellow came forward from behind his -father’s leg, and shook hands. But what interested -him most was Peanut’s sheath hatchet. In two -minutes he had it out, and was trying to demolish -the wood-box with it—not trying, succeeding! His -father had to take it away.</p> - -<p>The Sheldon family all came to welcome Mr. -Rogers, and when he and Peanut returned to camp -they carried milk and eggs and doughnuts.</p> - -<p>“That farm,” Mr. Rogers said, “is about the best -place I know of to come to stay, if you want to -tramp around for a week or a month.”</p> - -<p>“They kind of like you, I guess,” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>“That’s the kind of folks they are,” answered the -Scout Master.</p> - -<p>Back at camp, the Scouts had a fire going briskly, -and soon supper was sizzling, and the smell of -coffee, made from the pure water of Copper Mine -Brook, was mingling with the fragrance of the pines, -and with another smell the boys at first did not recognize -till Art examined a small tree close to the -fire, and discovered that it was balsam. They were -in the midst of their feast, when Mr. Sheldon appeared, -and sat down with them.</p> - -<p>“You oughtn’t to take ’em away from here without -showing ’em the falls,” he said to the Scout -Master. “They are full now—lots of water coming -over—and I cut out the trail fresh this last winter. -You can do it in the morning and still make Kinsman, -easily. At least, you can if they are strong -boys,” he added with a wink.</p> - -<p>“Humph!” said Peanut, “I guess we’re as strong -as the next.”</p> - -<p>Then he realized that Mr. Sheldon had got a rise -out of him, and grinned.</p> - -<p>“What’s the weather going to be to-morrow?” -asked the Scout Master.</p> - -<p>“Clear,” the other man replied. “I didn’t hear -the mountain talking as I came across the knoll.”</p> - -<p>“The mountain <i>what</i>?” said Rob.</p> - -<p>“Talking, we say. You get it real still down here -sometimes in the valley, and way up on top there, -if you listen sharp, you can hear the wind rushing -through the trees. Then we look out for bad -weather.”</p> - -<p>“That’s a funny way to put it,” Lou mused. “It -makes the mountains seem sort of human.”</p> - -<p>“Well, you get to know ’em pretty well, living -under ’em all the time, that’s a fact,” the man answered. -“A good sleep to you.”</p> - -<p>“Good-night,” called the Scouts, as he disappeared.</p> - -<p>As soon as the supper things were washed, they -were ready for bed, curling up in their blankets -around the fire, for it was chilly here, even though -it was the night before the Fourth—a fact Peanut -quite forgot till he had rolled himself all up for the -night. He crawled out again, set off a couple of -firecrackers, and came back to bed.</p> - -<p>“Gee, this is the stillest night before <i>I</i> ever saw!” -he exclaimed.</p> - -<p>“It <i>would</i> be, if you’d shut up,” grunted Art, -sleepily.</p> - -<p>The next morning Art, as always, was the first up. -He rose from his blanket, aware that it was dawn, -and rubbed his eyes. Where was the dim black -wall of the mountain which had gone up against the -stars the night before? He ran out of the grove -into a clear space and gazed up Copper Mine Brook -into a white wall of cloud. Back the other way, he -saw that the narrow valley in which they were was -hung along the surface with white mist, as the water -of the Lake of the Dismal Swamp used to be; and -the western hills beyond it were in cloud. Yet overhead -the dawn sky appeared to be blue.</p> - -<p>“Guess we’re in for a bad day,” he muttered, -peeling off his clothes and tumbling into the -shallow, swift waters of the brook. He emitted a -loud “Wow!” as he fell into the deepest pool he -could find. Was this ice water? He got out again -as quickly as possible, and began hopping up and -down to dry himself, his body pink with the reaction.</p> - -<p>His “Wow!” had wakened the camp, and the -rest were soon beside him.</p> - -<p>“How’s the water?” asked Peanut.</p> - -<p>“Fine!” said Art, winking at Mr. Rogers.</p> - -<p>Peanut, without a word, rolled over the bank. -His “Wow!” sounded like a wildcat in distress.</p> - -<p>“Cold?” asked Rob.</p> - -<p>“Oh, n-n-no,” said Peanut emerging with chattering -teeth. “W-w-warm as t-t-t-toast.”</p> - -<p>The rest decided to cut out the morning bath, in -spite of Art’s jeers. Even Mr. Rogers balked at ice -water. They were all looking, with much disappointment, -at the cloud-covered mountain above them.</p> - -<p>“Wait a bit,” said the Scout Master. “This is -going to be a fine day—you’ll see.”</p> - -<p>Even as they were going back to camp for breakfast, -the hills to the west, touched now with the sun, -began to emerge from the mist, or rather the mist -seemed to roll up their sides like the curtain at a -play. By the time breakfast was over, the sun had -appeared over Cannon, and the clouds had mysteriously -vanished into a few thin shreds of vapor, like -veils far up in the tree tops. It was a splendid day.</p> - -<p>“Well, I’ll be switched!” said Art.</p> - -<p>“The mountains almost always gather clouds, -like a dew, at night in summer,” the Scout Master -said. “Well, boys, do you feel up to tackling -Bridal Veil Falls before we tackle Kinsman?”</p> - -<p>There came a “Yes!” in unison. All packs and -equipment were left in camp, and shortly after six -the party set out in light marching trim up a logging -road which followed the brook bed. It led over a -high pasture, and finally plunged into a thick second -growth forest, where the dew on the branches soaked -everybody, but particularly Peanut, who was leading -and got the first of it. The path crossed the brook -several times on old corduroy log bridges, now -nearly rotted away, and grew constantly steeper. -The boys were panting a bit. They hadn’t got their -mountain wind yet. After two miles, during which, -but for the steepness, they might have been leagues -from any mountain for all they could see, they began -to hear a roaring in the woods above them. They -hastened on, and suddenly, right ahead, they saw a -smooth, inclined plane of rock, thirty or forty feet -long, with the water slipping down over it like -running glass, and above it they saw a sheer -precipice sixty feet high, with a V-shaped cut in the -centre. Through the bottom of this V the brook -came pouring, and tumbled headlong to the ledge -below.</p> - -<p>“Up we go!” cried Peanut, tackling the smooth -sloping ledge at a dry strip on the side. He got a -few feet, and began to slip back.</p> - -<p>The rest laughed, and tackled the slide at various -spots. Only the Scout Master, with a grin, went -way to the right and climbed easily up by a hidden -path on the side ledge. He got to the base of the -falls before the boys did.</p> - -<p>“A picture, a picture!” cried Frank, as the rest -finally arrived. All the party but Frank scrambled up -on a slippery boulder, drenched with spray, beside -the falls, and Frank mounted his tripod and took -them, having to use a time exposure, as there was -no sun down under the precipice.</p> - -<p>“Now, let’s get to the top of the falls!” cried -Peanut. “Is there a path?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, there’s a path, but it’s roundabout, and we -haven’t time,” the Scout Master answered.</p> - -<p>“Ho, we don’t need a path, I guess,” Peanut -added. “Just go right up those rocks over there, -clinging to the little hemlocks.”</p> - -<p>He jumped across the brook from boulder to -boulder, and started to scramble up the precipice, -on what looked like rocks covered with mossy soil -and young trees. He got about six feet, when all -the soil came off under his feet, the little tree he was -hanging to came off on top of him, and he descended -in a shower of mould, moss, mud and evergreen.</p> - -<p>“Guess again, Peanut,” the Scout Master laughed, -when he saw the boy rise, unhurt. “You can’t climb -safely over wet moss, you know—or you didn’t -know.”</p> - -<p>“I guess you’re right,” said Peanut, ruefully regarding -the precipice. “But I did want to get up -there.”</p> - -<p>“Forward march for Kinsman, I say,” Art put in. -“That’s the business of the day.”</p> - -<p>They started down. At the inclined plane Peanut -decided to slide. He crouched on his heels upon -the smooth rock, and began to descend. But the -rock sloped inward almost imperceptibly. Half-way -down he was on the edge of the water, two feet -more and he was in the water. His feet went out -from under him, and sitting in the stream (which -was only about three inches deep over the slide) he -went down like lightning, into the brook below!</p> - -<p>The rest set up a shout. Peanut got up upon the -farther bank, and stood dripping in the path. He -was soaked from the waist down. “Ho, what do I -care? It’s a warm day,” said he. But he pulled off -his boots and emptied the water out of them, and -then wrung out his stockings and trousers. The -rest didn’t wait. They went laughing down the -path, and Peanut had to follow on the run.</p> - -<p>When he caught up, everybody was looking very -stern. “Now, Peanut, no more nonsense,” Mr. -Rogers said. “You’ll keep to the path hereafter. -We want no broken bones, nor colds, nor sore feet -from spoiled shoes. Remember, this is the last -time!”</p> - -<p>He spoke soberly, sternly. “Yes, sir!” said -Peanut, not seeing the wink the Scout Master gave -the rest.</p> - -<p>At camp they shouldered their equipment, stopped -at the little store Mr. Sheldon kept in a wing of his -house, to buy some provisions and to say goodbye, -and at ten o’clock were tramping up the road of the -narrow valley, with the blue bulk of Moosilauke -directly south of them, Cannon Mountain just behind -to the left, up which they had gone half-way to -the falls, and directly on their left the northern -ridges of Kinsman, covered with dense forest.</p> - -<p>Half a mile down the road Mr. Rogers led the -way through a pair of bars, and they crossed a pasture, -went panting up a tremendously steep path between -dense young spruces, passed through another -pasture, and began to climb a steep logging road. -It was hard, steady plodding.</p> - -<p>“I’m gettin’ dry,” said Peanut, “but my pants -still stick!”</p> - -<p>After a while, the path left the logging road, and -swung up still steeper through the trees. Suddenly -they heard water, and a moment later were standing -on a shelf of rock over a waterfall, which came -forth from one of the most curious formations they -had ever seen.</p> - -<p>“Another chance for you to get wet, Peanut!” -laughed Frank. “What is this place, Mr. Rogers?”</p> - -<p>“It’s called Kinsman Flume,” the Scout Master -answered.</p> - -<p>The flume was a cleft not more than eight feet -wide, between two great ledges of moss-grown rock. -It ran back into the hill two hundred feet, and was -at least thirty feet deep. The brook came into the -upper end over a series of waterfalls, and ran out of -the lower end, where the boys were, down another -fall. Frank took a picture of it, and then they -crossed the brook at the lower end, and followed the -path up along the top. The path brought them into -another logging road, which presently came out -into a level clearing. As they had not seen the top -of the mountain since they entered the woods, -everybody gave a gasp now. There, ahead of them, -was the summit—but looking just as high, just as -far off, as ever! Art pulled out his watch.</p> - -<p>“We’ve been going an hour and a quarter—whew!” -he said. “I thought we were ’most -there.”</p> - -<p>“A little bigger than it looks, eh?” Mr. Rogers -laughed. “Most mountains fool you that way.”</p> - -<p>The party plodded on a way across the level -plateau, and then the ascent began again—up, up, -up, by a path which had evidently once been a logging -road, but had now been eroded by the water, -till it was little better than the dry bed of a brook—and -not always dry at that. The boys began to -pant, and mop their foreheads. Then they began to -shift their blanket rolls from one shoulder to the -other. The pace had slowed down.</p> - -<p>“How about that mile an hour being ridiculously -slow, Art?” Mr. Rogers inquired.</p> - -<p>“We’re not doing much better, that’s a fact,” Art -admitted.</p> - -<p>Just as he spoke, a partridge suddenly went up -from the path, not twenty-five feet ahead, with a -great whir-r-r. When they reached the spot where he -rose, they found a tiny, clear spring. Art flung down -his burden, and dropped on his knees with his cup.</p> - -<p>“Good place for lunch, <i>I</i> say,” remarked Peanut.</p> - -<p>“Me, too, on that,” said Frank.</p> - -<p>Rob looked ahead. The path was growing still -steeper. He looked back, and through the trees he -could see far below to the valley.</p> - -<p>“One more vote,” he said.</p> - -<p>“Carried,” said Art, running for fuel.</p> - -<p>After a lunch of bacon and powdered eggs, the -party lolled an hour in the shade, half asleep, and then -resumed the climb. The path very soon entered a -forest of a different sort. It was still chiefly hard -wood, but very much darker and denser than that below. -The trail, too, was not a logging road. It was -marked only by blazes on the trees, and the forest floor -was black and damp with untold ages of leaf-mould.</p> - -<p>“I guess we’ve got above the line of lumbering,” -said Rob.</p> - -<p>“We have,” said the Scout Master.</p> - -<p>Art looked about. “Then this is really primeval -forest!” he exclaimed—“just what it was when -there were only Indians in this country!”</p> - -<p>He investigated the trees more carefully. “Why, -most of them are birches,” he cried, “but they are -so old and green with moss that they don’t look -white at all. And look how short they are, for such -big trunks.”</p> - -<p>“You are nearly 4,000 feet up now, remember,” -Mr. Rogers reminded him, “and they are dwarfed -by the storms.”</p> - -<p>They came presently out of this dim bit of primeval -forest into a growth composed almost exclusively of -spruce. It was thirty feet high at first, but the path -was very steep, and growing rocky, and in five minutes -the spruces had shrunk in height to ten feet. -The boys scented the summit and began to hurry. -They struck a level place, and from it, in gaps between -the stunted spruces, they began to get hints -of the view. A quick final scramble, and they found -themselves on the north peak. Peanut was leading. -His clothes were dry now, except for a new soaking -of perspiration, and his spirits high. Rob was right -on his heels. The rest heard their shouts, and a -second later stood beside them on a big flat rock, -above the spruces which were only three or four feet -tall here, and looked out upon the most wonderful -view they had ever beheld. It made them all silent -for a moment.</p> - -<p>Right at their feet, on the opposite side from -which they had come up, the mountain dropped -away in an almost sheer precipice for a thousand -feet. At the bottom of that precipice was a perfectly -level plateau, covered with forest, and apparently -two miles long by half a mile wide, with a tiny lake, -Lonesome Lake, at one end. Beyond it the mountain -again fell away precipitously into an unseen -gorge. From out of that gorge, on the farther side, -rose the massive wall of Lafayette, Lincoln, Haystack -and Liberty, four peaks which are almost like -one long mountain with Lafayette, at the northern -end, the highest point, a thousand feet higher than -the boys. The whole side of this long rampart is so -steep that great landslides have scarred it, and the -last thousand feet of it is bare rock. It looked to -the boys tremendously big, and the one blue mountain -beyond it, to the east, which was high enough -to peep over seemed very high indeed—Mount Carrigain.</p> - -<p>Peanut drew in his breath with a whistle. Lou -sighed. “That’s the biggest thing I ever saw,” he -said. Then he added, “And the most beautiful!”</p> - -<p>To the southeast, below Mount Liberty at the end -of the big rock rampart, the boys could see off to -the far horizon, over a billow of blue mountains like -the wave crest of a gigantic sea—the Sandwich -range, with the sharp cone of Chocorua as its most -prominent peak. Facing due south, they could see, -close to them, the south peak of Kinsman, perhaps -half a mile away, across a saddle which was much -deeper than it had looked from the base. Beyond -the south peak was Moosilauke, seeming very close, -and on top of it they could now see the Summit -House. To the west, they looked down the slope -up which they had climbed, to the valley, where the -houses looked like specks, and then far off to the -Green Mountains of Vermont.</p> - -<p>Peanut grew impatient. “Come on, fellers,” he -cried. “This ain’t the top. What are we waiting -here for?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, let us see the view, Peanut,” said Rob. -“What’s your rush?”</p> - -<p>“Well, stay and see your old view; I’m going to -get to the top first,” Peanut answered. “Where are -we going to camp, Mr. Rogers?”</p> - -<p>“Back here, I guess. There’s a good spring just -over the edge below. We’ll go to the south peak, -and then come back.”</p> - -<p>Peanut dumped off his pack into the bushes, -kneeled down and took out the flag and his firecrackers, -and then slipped over the brow and disappeared -rapidly along the path which led across -the saddle to the south peak.</p> - -<p>The rest waited till Art had put some dehydrated -spinach to soak in a kettle, and then followed more -slowly, seeing nothing of Peanut, for the path wound -amid the stunted spruces which were just tall enough -to out-top a man. They went down a considerable -incline, and found two or three hundred feet of fresh -climbing ahead of them when they reached the base -of the south cone. They were scrambling up through -the spruces when suddenly from the summit they -heard a report—then a second—a third—a fourth—then -the rapid musketry of a whole bunch of cannon -crackers. It sounded odd far up here in the silence, -and not very loud. The great spaces of air seemed -to absorb the sound.</p> - -<p>When they reached the top, Peanut had stripped -a spruce of all branches, and tied the flag to the top. -It was whipping out in the breeze. As the first -boy’s head appeared in sight, he touched off his last -bunch of crackers, and, taking off his hat, cried, -“Ladies and gentlemen, salute your flag in honor -of the Independence of these United States of -America, and the Boy Scouts of Southmead, Massachusetts!”</p> - -<p>“Peanut’s making a Fourth of July oration,” -Frank called down to the rest.</p> - -<p>Rob laughed. “From the granite hills of New -Hampshire to the sun-kissed shores of the golden -Pacific,” he declaimed, “from the Arctic circle to the -Rio Grande, the dear old stars and stripes shall -wave—”</p> - -<p>“Shut up,” said Lou. “This place ain’t the spot -to make fun of the flag in. I say we all just take -off our hats and salute it, here on top of this mountain!”</p> - -<p>Lou spoke seriously. Peanut, who was always -quick to take a suggestion, instantly acquiesced. -“Sure,” he said. “Lou’s right. Hats off to the -flag on the Fourth of July!”</p> - -<p>The five Scouts and Mr. Rogers stood on the rock -by the improvised flagstaff, and saluted in silence. -Then the Scout Master said quietly, “We can see -from here a good deal of the United States, can’t we? -We can see the granite hills of New Hampshire, all -right. We can realize the job it was for our ancestors -to conquer this country from the wilderness and the -Indians, to put roads and railways through these hills. -I guess we ought to be pretty proud of the old flag.”</p> - -<p>The boys put on their hats again, and Frank took -a picture of them, gathered around the flag. Then -Peanut let out a pent-up whoop. “Never celebrated -the Fourth like this before!” he cried. “Golly, but -Moosilauke looks big from here!”</p> - -<p>It certainly did look big. It seemed to tower over -them. The western sun was throwing the shadows -of its own summit down the eastern slopes, and the -whole great mountain was hazy, mysterious.</p> - -<p>“Are we going to climb that?” asked Frank.</p> - -<p>“Sure,” said Art.</p> - -<p>“Whew!” said Frank. “Makes my legs ache -already!”</p> - -<p>“It’s easier than this one,” Mr. Rogers laughed. -“Now let’s go back and make camp.”</p> - -<p>The party retraced their steps to the north peak -where, just below the summit and overlooking the -precipitous drop to the Lonesome Lake plateau, was -a small but cold and delicious spring.</p> - -<p>“How does the water get way up here, is what -stumps me,” said Frank.</p> - -<p>“I suppose it is rain and snow water, held in the -rocks,” the Scout Master replied. “Perhaps some of -it comes along the rock fissures from the south peak, -but that wouldn’t be necessary. There is a little -spring almost at the top of Lafayette over there. -We’ll see it in a few days.”</p> - -<p>“How do we get up Lafayette?” asked Art.</p> - -<p>“We’ll come down from Moosilauke, and tramp -up the Notch down there below our feet now, till we -reach Liberty, climb Liberty, and go right along the -ridge to Lafayette, and then down to the Profile -House,” was the answer.</p> - -<p>The boys looked across the valley to the great rock -wall on the further side. The sun was sinking low -now, and the shadow of Kinsman was cast across. -Even as they watched, this shadow mounted slowly -up the steep, scarred sides of Liberty and Lincoln, -till only their summits were in sunlight, rosy at first -and then amethyst. The far hills to the southwest -began to fade from sight.</p> - -<p>“Gee, it’s time to make camp!” cried Peanut. -“Here’s a good, soft place, on this moss.”</p> - -<p>He pointed to a level spot on the summit. Mr. -Rogers shook his head.</p> - -<p>“Nix!” he said. “We’d be chilled through before -morning. Which way is the wind?”</p> - -<p>Art picked up a piece of dry grass and tossed it -into the air. It drifted toward the southeast.</p> - -<p>“Northwest,” he said.</p> - -<p>“All right. We’ll go down into the spruces to -leeward, and keep out of it.”</p> - -<p>The boys soon found a sheltered level space some -fifty feet below the peak, and began to clear out a -sort of nest in the tough spruce.</p> - -<p>“Gosh, I never saw anything so tough as these -young spruces,” said Frank.</p> - -<p>Lou had been examining one he had cut down. -“They’re not young,” he answered. “That’s the -funny part of it. This one I’ve cut is only four inches -through, but it’s <i>years</i> old. I’ve counted at least -forty-five rings. Guess they are dwarfed by the -storms up here, like Japanese trees, aren’t they, Mr. -Rogers?”</p> - -<p>The Scout Master nodded. “I’ve seen ’em only -three or four feet high, when they were so thick together, -and so tough, that you could literally walk -on top of ’em without going through to the ground.”</p> - -<p>Peanut dropped his hatchet and slipped down over -the rocks to a spot where the trees were as Mr. -Rogers had described. He tried to press through, -and failed. Then he just scrambled out on top of -them, and tried to walk. With every step he half -disappeared from sight, while the rest looked on, -laughing.</p> - -<p>After a few steps, he came back. His hands and -face were scratched, and there was a tear in his -trousers.</p> - -<p>“Excuse <i>me</i>!” he cried. “Gee, the Dismal -Swamp has nothing on those mountain spruces! -Golly, I begin to admire the man who made this path -up here!”</p> - -<p>The spruce boughs were so tough, in fact, that only -the tips could be used for bedding, and the boys had -to trim the branches with their knives to make their -bunks on the ground. The camp-fire was built of -dead spruce, with some live stumps added, and a -kettle of water kept beside it lest a spark ignite the -trees close by. Night had come on before supper -was ready, and with the coming of night it grew -cold, colder than the boys had guessed it could be in -July. They put on their sweaters, which, all day, -they had been complaining about as extra weight, -and they kept close to the fire while Art, with the -skill of a juggler, tossed the flapjacks from one side -to the other in his fry pan, catching them neatly as -they came down. The wind rose higher, and began -to moan through the spruces. Far below them was -the great black hole of the Notch—just a yawning -pit with no bottom. Beyond it the shadowy bulk -of Lafayette, Lincoln, Haystack and Liberty loomed -up against the starry sky. From this side, not a single -light was visible anywhere in the universe. The -boys ate their supper almost in silence.</p> - -<p>“Gee, this is lonely!” Peanut suddenly blurted -out. “I’m going where I can see a light.” He got -up and climbed to the summit again, followed by all -the others except Lou. They could look westward -from the peak, and see the lamps in the houses -down in the valley, and the blazing lights of the big -hotel on Sugar Hill, and even the street lights in -Franconia village.</p> - -<p>“There <i>is</i> somebody else in the world!” cried -Peanut. “Glad of that. I was beginning to think -there wasn’t.”</p> - -<p>Just as he spoke, a rocket suddenly went up from -Sugar Hill, and burst in the air. It was followed by -another, and another. The boys yelled at Lou to -come and see the fireworks.</p> - -<p>“Oh, dear,” sighed Peanut, “why didn’t I bring a -rocket—just <i>one</i> would be better’n none. Wouldn’t -it be some sight for the folks down there to see it -going up from the top of this old mountain, eh?”</p> - -<p>“That <i>would</i> be some celebration, O. K.,” Art -cried. “My, let’s come again next year and do it!”</p> - -<p>Lou slipped back to camp presently, and Mr. -Rogers, returning before the rest, found him sitting -on a rock overlooking the black pit of the Notch, -gazing out into space.</p> - -<p>“What is it, Lou?” he said. “A penny for your -thoughts.”</p> - -<p>“I was thinking,” Lou answered, “that I was -never so near the stars before. I suppose four thousand -feet isn’t much in a billion miles, but somehow -they <i>look</i> bigger, and I can almost feel the earth -rolling over under ’em. It’s the funniest sensation I -ever had.”</p> - -<p>“You’re a poet, Lou,” said the Scout Master -kindly, as he turned to call the rest to bed.</p> - -<p>“All hands to bunk!” he shouted. “We’ve had -a hard day, with a harder one ahead.”</p> - -<p>The Scouts got off their boots and rolled up in -their blankets, all of them glad of the chance. Lou -blew out the lantern, and turned in, also. The wind -which rushed steadily overhead, with a moaning -sound, did not reach them down here to leeward of -the peak, amid the thick spruces. But it was cold, -nonetheless. They lay close together, and drew -their blankets tight.</p> - -<p>“A funny Fourth,” said Peanut sleepily. “Hope -we don’t roll off in our sleep. Good-night, everybody.”</p> - -<p>But there was no reply. Every one else was asleep.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">Moosilauke</p> - -<p>Everybody was awake early the next morning. -“Gosh, I didn’t sleep very well!” said Peanut, -shivering as he built up the fire. “Here it is -the fifth of July, and me wrapped up in an army -blanket, with a sweater on—and cold. Kept waking -up, and getting closer to Art. He’s kind o’ fat and -makes a good stove.”</p> - -<p>“Should think you did!” said Art. “You woke -me up about forty-’leven times bumping your -back into mine. I wasn’t very cold. Been warmer, -though.”</p> - -<p>“If it’s cold here,” put in Rob, “at four thousand -feet, what’ll it be on Washington at six thousand?”</p> - -<p>“I guess we’ll sleep inside on Washington,” said -Mr. Rogers.</p> - -<p>“Oh, no!” cried Art.</p> - -<p>“Well, you can bunk outside, and the rest of us’ll -go in,” laughed Frank. “Look, there’s the sun!”</p> - -<p>Sure enough, in the east, across the white cloud -which hung below them in the Notch, and beyond -the wall of the Lafayette range, a great red ball was -rising. It seemed to heave up above the mists as -though somebody was pushing it from underneath, -and as it got up and cast its rays across the Notch -to their feet, Lafayette looked like a huge island of -rock above a white sea of vapor. This vapor rolled -up and blew away as they were eating breakfast. -The morning was fine and clear. Mr. Rogers -pointed toward Moosilauke. “That’s where we’ll -be at night,” he said.</p> - -<p>“It doesn’t look possible!” said Lou.</p> - -<p>“It won’t be, if we don’t start,” said Art. “Got -your flag, Peanut, or did you leave it on the south -peak?”</p> - -<p>“I got it, all right,” Peanut replied. “Are we -ready? How far is it, Mr. Rogers?”</p> - -<p>“Hm—four miles down this mountain,—ten to the -base of Moosilauke—five miles up—nineteen miles.”</p> - -<p>“A pickle,” said Peanut, and pack on back he -plunged over the summit, and down the path into -the spruces, the rest trailing behind.</p> - -<p>“Go after him, Rob,” said the Scout Master, “and -hold him back. He’ll tire his front leg muscles all -out, if he doesn’t break his neck.”</p> - -<p>Rob went, and held Peanut by main force till the -rest came up.</p> - -<p>“You couldn’t have held me,” cried Peanut, “if I -hadn’t wanted to say that we could go down easier -with poles. We ought to have brought our poles. -What can we cut for ’em?”</p> - -<p>“Moose wood,” said Art. “I saw moose wood a -bit further down, as we came up.”</p> - -<p>So the party plunged on, finding the steep descent -quick work, the chief difficulty being not to go -too fast. At the first sign of moose wood, Art gave -a cry, and soon the whole party had cut staves six -feet long.</p> - -<p>“I’m going to leave this pretty green and white -bark on mine, and cut my initials in it to-night,” -Lou announced.</p> - -<p>“A good idea,” the rest agreed.</p> - -<p>Shouldering their packs again, they put out the -staves ahead of them, threw their weight forward, -and with this assistance descended with even greater -rapidity and much more safety. They stopped in -the Flume only long enough for a drink, and again -plunged down. As they came out into the level pasture -near the base, Peanut slowed down.</p> - -<p>“Wow,” he said, wiping his forehead, “that looks -easy, but you really work awful hard holding in!”</p> - -<p>“You’ll know you’ve worked about to-morrow,” -Mr. Rogers laughed.</p> - -<p>They made the four miles to the road in a little over -half an hour, which, as Art said, is “going some.”</p> - -<p>It was less than eight o’clock when they faced the -ten miles of road to Moosilauke.</p> - -<p>The first thing to attract particular attention was -the village of Easton, through which they passed -half an hour later. Of the half dozen houses in the -village, two were quite abandoned. There was a -tiny store, and a small sawmill, and that was all. -Beyond the village they passed an abandoned church. -Then followed two or three small houses, also abandoned, -and then nothing but the narrow, sandy road, -winding through woods and fields, with Kinsman -growing farther behind them on the left, and Moosilauke -nearer straight ahead. They went for more -than an hour without meeting a single wagon or -motor, and after they left Easton they did not see a -human being.</p> - -<p>“Pretty lively little road, this,” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>“Makes you think of Broadway, New York,” -laughed Rob.</p> - -<p>“Look!” said Lou. “Moosilauke isn’t blue any -longer. You can see the green of the forest.”</p> - -<p>“You can see what <i>was</i> a forest,” said Mr. Rogers. -“The paper company have stripped it.”</p> - -<p>“Why paper?” asked Peanut.</p> - -<p>“Why paper!” Art sniffed. “You poor boob, -don’t you know that paper is made out of wood -pulp?”</p> - -<p>“I thought it was made out of old rags,” Peanut -answered.</p> - -<p>“It is,” said Rob.</p> - -<p>“Well—what——”</p> - -<p>Everybody laughed. “Newspaper is made of -wood pulp—spruce and balsam almost entirely,” -said the Scout Master, taking pity on Peanut. -“Linen paper, such as the kind you write letters on, -is made out of linen rags. The newspapers use up so -much paper for their great Sunday editions, especially, -that they are really doing almost more to -strip the forests than the lumbermen, because they -don’t even have to wait till the trees get good sized.”</p> - -<p>“Why can’t they use anything except spruce and -balsam?” asked Lou. “Won’t other kinds of wood -make paper?”</p> - -<p>“They’ll make paper,” said Mr. Rogers, “but the -fibre isn’t tough enough to stand the strain of the -presses. You know, a newspaper press has to print -many thousands of copies an hour; it runs at high -speed. The paper is on a huge roll, and it unwinds -like a ribbon into the press. It has to be tough -enough so that it won’t break as it is being unwound. -There’s a fortune waiting for the man who can invent -a tough paper which can be made out of cornstalks, -or something which can be grown every year, -like a crop. Think how it would save our forests! -I’m told that every Sunday edition of a big New -York newspaper uses up about eleven acres of -spruce.”</p> - -<p>“Gee, Sunday papers ain’t worth it!” Art exclaimed.</p> - -<p>“They are not, that’s a fact,” Mr. Rogers agreed.</p> - -<p>“I don’t see,” Lou put in, “why a paper mill -couldn’t buy up a great tract of woodland, and then -forest it scientifically, taking out the big trees every -year, and planting little ones. I shouldn’t think it -would cost any more than it would to haul lumber to -the mills from all over creation.”</p> - -<p>“It wouldn’t, Lou,” said Mr. Rogers, “but we in -America haven’t learned yet to do things that way. -Our big mills and business concerns are all too careless -and selfish and wasteful. And the public is -paying the penalty. Look at that——”</p> - -<p>They had come around a bend in the road, close -to the north shoulder of the mountain now, and could -see how all the upper slopes had been stripped down -to bare soil by the lumbermen.</p> - -<p>“That soil will probably dry out, landslides or fires -will come, and it may be a thousand years before the -mountain is forested again,” Mr. Rogers exclaimed. -“It’s a perfect outrage!”</p> - -<p>The party presently came into a crossroad, running -east and west. It was a bit more traveled than -the one they were on. They turned down it to the -left, and reached a curious settlement, or rather the -remains of a settlement. There were several rough, -unpainted board houses, a timber dam across a small -river, and everywhere on the ground lay old sawdust, -beginning to rot down, with bushes growing up -through it.</p> - -<p>“This is Wildwood. It’s all that remains of a -lumber town,” said Mr. Rogers. “The mill stood -by that dam. They cleared all this end of the valley -many years ago, and sent their lumber on teams -down the Wild Ammonoosuc valley to the railroad.”</p> - -<p>The party now turned south again, crossed the -Wild Ammonoosuc at the dam, and began ascending -gradually along a road which seemed to be making -for the notch on the west side of Moosilauke.</p> - -<p>“Only two miles more to the base,” said the Scout -Master.</p> - -<p>Art looked at his watch. “It’s only eleven o’clock,” -he said. “Couldn’t we have a swim in that brook -down there? I’m awful hot.”</p> - -<p>“Me, too,” said Peanut. “And my bloomin’ old -boot is hurting my heel. I want to fix it.”</p> - -<p>“That’s because you got it so wet yesterday,” -said Rob. “For heaven’s sake, take your clothes -off before you go in to-day!”</p> - -<p>Everybody turned from the road to the brook, -which was almost a small river. It came down from -the sides of Moosilauke, and evidently joined the -Wild Ammonoosuc near the dam. In a moment -five boys and a man were sticking their toes into -it gingerly, and withdrawing them with various -“Ouches!” and “Wows!”</p> - -<p>“Cowards!” cried Art. “Here goes. What’s -cold water?”</p> - -<p>He selected a pool between two big stones, and -went all under. The rest followed suit. There was -no place deep enough to swim in, however, and they -all very soon came out, and dried themselves on the -bank.</p> - -<p>“My, that makes you feel better, though!” -Frank exclaimed. “Nothing like a bath on a hike -to set you up!”</p> - -<p>“I got a blister,” said Peanut, who was examining -his heel. “Oh, dear, who’s got the first aid -kit?”</p> - -<p>Rob had it, of course, as he was always the doctor. -He put some antiseptic on the blister, which had -burst, dressed it, and bound it firmly across with -surgeon’s plaster, so the shoe could not rub it.</p> - -<p>“You wouldn’t have had it if you hadn’t got your -feet so wet yesterday,” he said. “The leather dried -stiff. Perhaps you’ll behave now.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, doctor, what is your fee?” Peanut grinned.</p> - -<p>The other five pairs of feet were all right, and the -march was resumed. At noon they emerged out of -the woods into a small clearing on the west side of -Moosilauke. There was a tiny hotel in this clearing, -and nothing else. On the right, a second, but much -lower mountain, Mount Clough, went sharply up. -Due south was a deep gap, like a V, between Clough -and Moosilauke—the notch which led to the towns -south.</p> - -<p>“Here’s where the path begins,” said the Scout -Master. “We’ve done fourteen miles, at least, this -morning. I guess we’ll have lunch.”</p> - -<p>“Let’s get up into the woods first, by a spring,” -the boys urged, so they entered on the path, which -immediately began to go up at a steepish angle -through a forest of hard wood—a very ancient forest.</p> - -<p>“Looks as if it had never been lumbered,” said -Art. “Wow! look at the size of those maples and -beeches!”</p> - -<p>“The paper men don’t want hard wood, thank -goodness,” Mr. Rogers answered. “We’ll get about -a mile of this.”</p> - -<p>They soon found a spring beside the path, and -under the shadows of the great trees they made a -fire and cooked lunch. Then, for an hour, everybody -rested, lying on his back and listening to the -beautiful songs of the hermit thrushes. Peanut and -Art and Frank went to sleep, while Lou and Rob -and Mr. Rogers talked softly. It was a lazy, peaceful -hour, up there in the great forest. At two o’clock -Rob beat a tattoo on his frying-pan, to wake up the -sleepers, and ordered the march to begin.</p> - -<p>For the next two hours it was steady plodding. -The Benton Path, by which they were climbing, was -clear and good. They came out of the hard timber -forest in a little over half an hour, into slash land, -now growing up into scraggly woods, full of vines -and brambles, and presently the path wound to the -edge of a steep ravine, where they could look down -at the tumbling waterfalls of the brook they had -swum in that morning, and across the ravine to the -stripped northern shoulders. The second hour of -climbing was merely monotonous ascent, toilsome -and slow, with no view at all. They had now put -four miles below them, and the signs of lumbering -ceased. They were getting close to timber line, -where the stunted spruces were not worth cutting. -For a little way the path grew less steep, and they -quickened their pace. The trees were now no higher -than bushes. They saw the summit ahead, though -the house seemed to have disappeared; and the view -opened out. Westward they could see to the Green -Mountains, and beyond the Green Mountains, like a -blue haze, the Adirondacks. At their feet they began -to notice tiny mountain cranberry vines. Peanut -tasted one of the half ripe cranberries, puckered up -his face, and spit it hastily out. The path grew steep -again. The trees vanished. The way grew rocky, -with cranberries between the rocks everywhere. At -last only the final heave to the summit seemed to -confront them. Peanut, forgetting his lame heel, -panted up ahead, and emitted a cry of disappointment.</p> - -<p>“Gee whiz,” he shouted back, “there’s the Summit -House a quarter of a mile away!”</p> - -<p>“You’ll learn yet that you’re never on the top of a -mountain till you get there,” Mr. Rogers laughed.</p> - -<p>But this final quarter mile was nearly level—or -seemed so after the steep climb—and they were soon -at the Summit House, with the view spread out to -all four parts of the compass.</p> - -<p>What a view it was! But all the boys concentrated -their gaze in one direction—northeast. -There, thirty miles or more away, over the top of -the Lafayette range, they saw Mount Washington -again, for the first time since the first Sugar Hill -view, saw even the Summit House on its cone. -That was the final goal of their hike—the high spot—and -beside it all the billowing sea of blue mountain -tops between paled to insignificance.</p> - -<p>“She looks a long way off!” said Art.</p> - -<p>“And me with a blister,” sighed Peanut. “But -it’s Pike’s Peak—I mean Washington—or bust!”</p> - -<p>The party now turned their attention to the Summit -House, which was a two-story structure of fair -size, built partly of stone, with great chains going -over it to lash it down.</p> - -<p>“I suppose if it wasn’t chained down it would blow -away in winter,” said Art. “Strikes me we’re going -to get some blow, even to-night.”</p> - -<p>The west did, indeed, look windy, with great -clouds suddenly piling up. But the Scout Master -said you could never tell much about mountain -weather—at least he couldn’t. They entered the -little hotel to see the inside. Several people were -there already. At the back of the room was a big -stove, with a fire in it, too. To the boys, who had -but just arrived after their hot climb, the room -seemed uncomfortably warm.</p> - -<p>“Going to spend the night here? Don’t know -whether I’ve got room for you all,” said the -proprietor.</p> - -<p>“No, we’re going to sleep out,” Rob answered -him. “We never sleep inside on a hike.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I reckon you’ll need your blankets,” the -man said. “The water froze here last night, in the -rain barrel.”</p> - -<p>“What’s that?” put in Peanut, who was examining -picture post-cards. “Say, I move we go back -down a way to camp.”</p> - -<p>“I do too, if you’re going to try again to warm -yourself between my shoulder blades,” said Art.</p> - -<p>Everybody laughed, and a man came forward -from behind the stove—a funny looking man, with -big, hobnail shoes and big, shell-rimmed spectacles.</p> - -<p>“Which way are you going down the mountain -in the morning?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“By the Beaver Brook Trail,” Mr. Rogers answered.</p> - -<p>“Oh, that’s all right, then,” said their new acquaintance. -“You stay up here long enough to see -the sunset, and then I’ll take you down the trail into -the woods beyond the head of Jobildunk Ravine. -You’ll keep warm in there, all right.”</p> - -<p>“Can you find your way back, sir?” asked Lou.</p> - -<p>The man’s eyes twinkled. “If I can’t, I deserve -to be lost,” he answered. “I’ve lived a month on -top of this mountain every summer for more years -than I care to confess.”</p> - -<p>“Gee, it must be slow up here all that time!” said -Peanut.</p> - -<p>“What do you mean, slow, young man?” the -other asked.</p> - -<p>Peanut fumbled a moment for words. “Why, -nothing doing—no excitement,” he finally replied.</p> - -<p>“Ah, youth, youth! Happy, happy youth!” the -stranger exclaimed. “You love excitement, eh? -Well, you’ll get some going down the Beaver Brook -Trail to-morrow. By George, I’ve a great mind to -give you some now! How far have you walked -to-day?”</p> - -<p>“Nineteen miles,” said Peanut, shifting uneasily -on his sore heel, and beginning to repent what he -had said. Somehow, as Art whispered to Frank, -the man looked as if he could “deliver the goods.”</p> - -<p>“No, that’s far enough,” the stranger replied, -after a long pause, as if for reflection. “I won’t -dare a man who’s hiked nineteen miles—or a boy -either.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, if it’s a dare——” Peanut began.</p> - -<p>“No, sir, won’t do it; you can’t bluff me into it!” -the man laughed. “But if you think there’s no excitement -on Moosilauke, you stay here a few days, -and let me take you botanizing a bit, say into -Jobildunk.”</p> - -<p>“What’s that name again, sir?” asked Rob.</p> - -<p>“Jobildunk,” the man answered. “It is a big -ravine discovered by three men, named Joe, Bill and -Duncan. So they made a portmanteau word, and -named it Jo-bil-dunc after all three. The ‘k’ got put -on later, I suppose. Come on out of this hot room, -you chaps, and see my playground.”</p> - -<p>“I like him,” whispered Rob as they followed him -through the door.</p> - -<p>He was a small man, but they soon found he was -tremendously active. In front of the hotel was a -road. The summit of Moosilauke is about a mile -long, nearly level, but highest on the north end, -where the hotel is. This road ran all the way along -the summit, to the southern end, where it vanished -around the little south peak. It was a crushed stone -road, all right, for there was nothing but stones to -make it of. It was just a white ribbon, winding -amid the gray boulders and mountain cranberry -plants. The man led the way rapidly down it, and -the tired boys had all they could do to keep up. -Half a mile from the Summit House he stopped, -leaped on a boulder beside the road, and pointed -back.</p> - -<p>“Here’s my favorite view,” he said. “The little -gray Summit House away up there at the end of the -white road, against the sky, the white road running -the other way down toward the valley world, and all -off there to the west, just space and sunset!”</p> - -<p>It was pretty fine. The sun was now descending -into the western cloud bank, and turning the clouds -to rose and gold. It looked hundreds of miles -away.</p> - -<p>“Do those clouds mean rain?” asked Art.</p> - -<p>“Nary a drop,” said the man. “Hello!—here’s -an <i>Argynnis atlantis</i>!”</p> - -<p>He made a mad dive with his hat, put it quickly -over a low plant, and drew from under a beautiful -butterfly, all gold and silver, with a black border -around the wings.</p> - -<p>“The small mountain fritillary,” he said. “Often -comes up here, but shouldn’t be here with the wind -so strong. What I’m looking for really is an <i>Oeneis -semidea</i>, an arctic butterfly which they say is found -only on Mount Washington. He’s gray, like the -rocks. Looks like a two inch piece of lichen. -Haven’t found one yet, though. You watch this -fritillary follow the road down the mountain, now.”</p> - -<p>He let the butterfly go, and sure enough, it started -down the road, flying not more than three feet above -the ground, and as long as the boys could watch it, -it was keeping to every turn and twist.</p> - -<p>“He knows the way down!” laughed the man. -“And he knows he has no business up here when -it’s so cold, with night coming on. He’ll get down, -though, at that rate.</p> - -<p>“And now, boys,” continued this odd man, “you -be as wise as the butterfly! Back to the hotel, -shoulder packs, and to your camp!”</p> - -<p>He led the way again up the road. He walked -so fast that the five boys and Mr. Rogers were all -panting. But he himself was not out of breath in -the least. He laughed at Peanut.</p> - -<p>“Anyhow, I get my wind good in a month up -here,” he said, “even if it is ‘slow’ and I’m old -enough to be your grandfather!”</p> - -<p>“You’ve not walked nineteen miles to-day,” said -Peanut.</p> - -<p>“No, but I’ve walked sixteen,” the man replied. -“I’ve been down nearly to North Woodstock and -back, by the Beaver Brook Trail. You’ll know what -I mean when you see that trail.”</p> - -<p>Peanut was silent.</p> - -<p>At the Summit House the boys bought some post-cards -showing the view from the top, Frank took a -picture of the sunset, to label “Moonlight from -Moosilauke,” and they all picked up their packs and -followed their new leader. He took them back over -the path they had come up for a few hundred feet, -and suddenly plunged sharp to the east. They began -at once to go down. Soon the path skirted the -edge of a great gorge, which was like a gigantic -piece of pie cut out of the mountainside, with the -point toward them. The sides were almost precipitous, -and covered with dense spruce.</p> - -<p>“That’s Jobildunk Ravine. Want to go down -it with me, my young friend?” the man asked Peanut.</p> - -<p>“Thanks—not till after supper,” Peanut grinned.</p> - -<p>As they were on the east side of the summit, it -quickly grew dark. The man led the way unerringly, -however, along a level stretch of path beside -the ravine, and presently plunged into the woods. -They were now below timber line. In a few moments -he halted.</p> - -<p>“Got a lantern?” he said.</p> - -<p>Lou lighted the camp lantern, and the man showed -them a spring, close to the path. “Plenty of dead -wood on the trees—lower branches of those spruce,” -he added. “Good-night, all!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, stay and have supper with us!” cried all the -Scouts together.</p> - -<p>“Well, since you urge, I will,” said he. “Don’t -make me cook, though. I’m a bad cook.”</p> - -<p>“You sit down, and be company,” Peanut -laughed.</p> - -<p>The boys rather showed off in getting supper -ready. Art made the fire pit and the fire, Peanut -and Frank gathered wood, Rob brought water and -fixed up the props and cross-bar to swing the kettle -from, and then cleared out a space for sleeping, cutting -spruce boughs for the bed. Lou, meanwhile, -got out enough food for the meal, and began to mix -the flapjack dough. Mr. Rogers, like the stranger, -was not allowed to do any work.</p> - -<p>“Well, you’ve got five of the Gold Dust twins -here, for sure!” the man laughed.</p> - -<p>“They’re Boy Scouts, and used to making camp,” -Mr. Rogers answered.</p> - -<p>“They surely are used to it,” the man said. “I -tell you, it’s a great movement that trains boys for -the open like that!”</p> - -<p>The Scouts, hearing this, redoubled their efforts, -and bacon was sizzling, coffee boiling, flapjacks -turning, in a very few moments more.</p> - -<p>Supper was a merry meal. The fire was restocked -with fresh wood after the cooking had been -done, and blazed up, throwing reflections into the -trees overhead and quite paling the light of Lou’s -lantern, which swung from a branch. Their new -friend joked and laughed, and enjoyed every mouthful. -When supper was over, he pulled several cakes -of sweet chocolate out of his pocket, and divided -them for dessert. “Always carry it,” he said. -“Raisins and sweet chocolate—that makes a meal -for me any time. Don’t have to cook it, either.”</p> - -<p>He sat with his back against a tree after the meal, -and told stories of the mountain. “I used to tramp -over all these hills every vacation,” he said, “and -many a good time I’ve had, and many a hard time, -too, on Washington, especially. I was caught in a -snow-storm one June on the Crawford Bridle Path -and nearly froze before I got to the Mt. Pleasant -Path down. The wind was blowing a hundred -miles an hour, at least, and went right through me. -I couldn’t see twenty feet ahead, either. Luckily, I -had a compass, and by keeping the top of the ridge, -I found the path without having to take a chance on -descending through the woods. But nowadays, I’m -getting old, and this fellow Moosilauke is more to -my liking. A big, roomy, comfortable mountain, -Moosilauke, with a bed waiting for you at the top, -and plenty to see. Why, he’s just like a brother to -me! I keep a picture of him in my room in New -York to look at winters, just as you” (he turned to -Rob) “keep a picture of your best girl on your -bureau.”</p> - -<p>Rob turned red, while the rest laughed at him. -To turn the subject, Rob said hastily:</p> - -<p>“Why is the mountain called Moosilauke?”</p> - -<p>“It used to be spelled Moose-hillock on all the -maps when I was a boy,” the man replied. “People -thought it meant just that—a hill where the Indians -used to shoot moose. But finally somebody -with some sense came along and reasoned that the -Indians would hardly name a mountain with English -words, when they had known it for generations -before they ever heard any English. He began to -investigate, and discovered, I’m told, that the -Pemigewassett Indians—the tribe which lived in the -valley just to the south—really called it Moosilauke, -which means, as far as I can make out, ‘The great -bald (or bare) mountain,’ because the top has no -trees on it. The Indians never climbed it. They -never climbed mountains at all, because they believed -that the Great Spirit dwelt on the tops. I -fancy they held Moosilauke in particular veneration—and -right they were; it’s the finest old hill of ’em -all!”</p> - -<p>“You like the mountains, don’t you, sir?” said -Lou.</p> - -<p>“You bet,” the other answered. “They are about -the biggest and solidest things we have, and the -only folks who get to the top of ’em are folks with -good legs, like you boys. I like people with good -legs, but I don’t like lazy people. So on the mountains -I’m sure of good company. It’s the only place -I am sure of it—except, of course, in my own room, -with the door locked!”</p> - -<p>Peanut led the laugh at this.</p> - -<p>Before their new friend rose to go, he told them -something of the trail down the mountain. “It’s an -Appalachian Club trail,” he said, “but it’s not so -well kept up as those on the Presidentials, and it’s -almighty steep in places. You’ll find it good fun. -When you get to the bottom, turn to the left and -have a look at Beaver Meadow. It’s an acre or -more across, and was really cleared by beavers. -You can still see the ruins of their old dam. Then -go through Lost River, and you’ve seen the best of -that region. Good-night, boys, and good hiking!”</p> - -<p>“Will you be all right in the dark, around the -head of the ravine?” asked Mr. Rogers.</p> - -<p>“The soles of my feet are as good a guide as my -eyes on this path,” the man laughed.</p> - -<p>But Peanut jumped up, took the lantern, and insisted -on escorting him along the path till it had -passed the head of the ravine. Fifteen or twenty -minutes later, when Peanut reappeared, he found the -rest ready for bed. Rob gave Peanut’s sore heel a -fresh dressing, and then everybody turned in, lying -close together for warmth. As they were dozing -off, Peanut suddenly exclaimed, “Hang it!” in a -loud tone.</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter with you?” asked Art crossly. -“Go to sleep!”</p> - -<p>“I forgot to carve on my stick how far we’ve -walked to-day,” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>“Well, you can do it to-morrow, can’t you? Shut -up now!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, very well,” said Peanut, relapsing into -silence, and then into sleep—the sleep of the utterly -weary.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">Lost River and the Ladies</p> - -<p>Once again the camp was astir at sunrise, -shortly after four. Everybody was cold, and, -truth to tell, a little cross.</p> - -<p>“We’re not hardened to this high air yet, I guess,” -said Art, as he built up the fire. But breakfast restored -their good nature, and they all went back up -the path to have a look at Jobildunk Ravine by daylight, -while Mr. Rogers was shaving.</p> - -<p>“Got to shave, boys,” he said, “because we strike -a town—North Woodstock—this afternoon.”</p> - -<p>It was after six before the descent of the mountain -began. At first the way led through thick woods, -and, while it was steep, seemed no steeper than -Kinsman. They came upon the embers of two or -three camp-fires beside springs, and presently upon -a small lean-to, built of bark and hemlock boughs, -which would hold two people.</p> - -<p>“Somebody got tired half-way up,” laughed Art. -“Gee, they could have got to the top while they -were building this.”</p> - -<p>“Maybe they liked to build,” Lou suggested, -which seemed unanswerable.</p> - -<p>The path below this point swung over to the side -of a rushing brook, and they began to enter a region -where the lumbermen had been, stripping the forest -down to bare soil and leaving behind dry, ugly -slash. The path grew steeper every moment. The -brook went down the mountain in a series of cascades, -one after the other, and at almost every waterfall -the path beside it dropped almost as steeply. -In some places there were rough ladders to descend -by. At other places you simply had to swing over a -root and drop, often landing in soft, wet leaf-mould, -and sinking up to the ankles.</p> - -<p>“Steep? Well, I should smile!” said Peanut. -“Say, fellers, don’t you wish we were going up instead -of down?”</p> - -<p>“Can’t say I do,” Frank answered. “I don’t see -how anybody does get up here, ’specially with a -heavy pack. Wasn’t this path ever better than this?”</p> - -<p>“It must have been once. The water has washed -it,” the Scout Master replied.</p> - -<p>Just then they came to a six foot drop, and Frank -took it first. He unslung his camera at the bottom, -and snapped the rest as they came tumbling after him.</p> - -<p>“That’ll prove we had some steep work, all right,” -he said.</p> - -<p>“I believe if my pants were stronger, I’d just sit -down and slide the rest of the way,” Peanut laughed.</p> - -<p>But such steep descents have one great advantage -—they get you down quickly. Almost before the boys -realized that they were at the bottom, they found -themselves walking along a level wood road, and it -seemed suddenly very still.</p> - -<p>“It’s the brook—we don’t hear the water falling -any more,” said Art.</p> - -<p>They came out quickly upon the highway—or so -much of a highway as ran through this tiny notch. It -was hardly more than a wood road. They turned -to the left, as their friend on Moosilauke had advised, -and in a moment came into a grassy clearing, with -the ruins of an old logging camp at one side. This -was Beaver Meadow. To the left, the steep wall of -Moosilauke leapt up, and they could see the course -of Beaver Brook, beside which they had descended, -the white of its waterfalls flashing here and there in -the sun. To the right was Wildcat Mountain, really -a foot-hill of Kinsman. The meadow itself was very -green, and the road went through the middle of it. -At the western end, it narrowed to perhaps a hundred -feet in width, and here a little brook flowed out, beside -the road, and on either side they saw the remains -of a dam, perhaps three or four feet high, -quite grown over with grass and bushes.</p> - -<p>“The beaver dam!” cried Art. “They just cut -down the trees on each side, and let them fall over -the brook, and then plastered ’em up with mud, eh? -My, but they are smart!”</p> - -<p>“Did they clear all the trees out of this meadow, -too?” asked Frank.</p> - -<p>“They didn’t have to do that,” the Scout Master -replied. “Once they had the brook dammed back -the water killed the trees—killed ’em so thoroughly -that this meadow has remained open long after the -beavers have vanished, and their dam has been -broken open by the road.”</p> - -<p>“But why do they go to all that trouble?” said -Frank again.</p> - -<p>“How many ponds have you seen in these -parts?” said Art, scornfully. “They wouldn’t make -a dam if they could find a natural pond shallow -enough so their houses could come up above water, -like a muskrat’s, would they, Mr. Rogers? But I -suppose they couldn’t find one around here, so they -just made it themselves. I think they’re about the -smartest animal there is.”</p> - -<p>“You mean was,” said Peanut. “I never saw -one. Did you?”</p> - -<p>“No,” said Art, sadly. “I’d like to, though. -Gee, it’s a shame the way women have to wear furs, -and kill off all the animals! Sometimes I wish there -<i>weren’t</i> any girls.”</p> - -<p>“Well, they’re not troubling us much this week,” -Mr. Rogers laughed. “Now for Lost River!”</p> - -<p>The party turned east, and proceeded down the -road for about half a mile, by an easy grade, till they -came quite unexpectedly upon a souvenir post-card -and “tonic” store, built of birch logs, beside the -path. Here they stopped, and after buying a bottle -of ginger ale apiece, a young French-Canadian -lumberman, who ran the store and acted as guide -during the summer season, agreed to pilot them -through Lost River. He advised them to put on -overalls before starting, but they scorned the suggestion. -While they were debating the point with him, -there was a sudden sound of voices outside, and in -the doorway of the little log store appeared a party -of women and girls—and one lone man.</p> - -<p>“Poor Art!” said Peanut, giving him a poke in -the ribs.</p> - -<p>This party wanted to go through Lost River, too.</p> - -<p>“We can’t keep the guide all to ourselves and -make him lose this other job,” said Mr. Rogers. -“Besides, we’re Scouts, and we ought to do a good -turn and help those women folks through.”</p> - -<p>“Aw, no! Let’s cut out the guide, then, and go -through alone!” said Art.</p> - -<p>“No,” Mr. Rogers said, “I don’t remember the -way. I was never through but once, years ago; besides, -we’d miss half the sights.”</p> - -<p>“Say,” whispered Peanut, “will those <i>girls</i> put on -overalls?”</p> - -<p>“I guess they’ll have to,” said Mr. Rogers.</p> - -<p>“Me for that!” cried Peanut, with a whoop. -“Go on, Art, by yourself, if you want. I’m going to -be a gay little Sir Launcelot to a dame in overalls!”</p> - -<p>All the boys laughed, except Art, who was still -scowling.</p> - -<p>“Cheer up, Art,” whispered Rob. “It sounds like -fun to me. Look at that nice girl in the door; she’s -looking at you.”</p> - -<p>Art turned instinctively, and his eyes met those of -a very pretty girl in pink, who was in the doorway. -He blushed. So did the girl. Peanut winked at -Rob, who winked back.</p> - -<p>“He’ll come,” they each whispered to the other.</p> - -<p>Mr. Rogers was talking to the guide, and to the -lone man who had accompanied this party. The -man took him over to the women (there were two -women and five girls), and the boys saw their Scout -Master bow, and talk with them. A moment later -he came across the room.</p> - -<p>“That poor man has brought his wife and two -daughters and three of their friends and another -woman up from North Woodstock, boys,” he said. -“I can see they are all greenhorns at this sort of -work. It’s really up to us to help ’em. They are -going to get into overalls now.”</p> - -<p>The women and girls went up-stairs to the second -story of the log house, and the boys could hear them -tittering and giggling, and emitting little cries of -“Ah!” and “Oh, my gracious!” and “I can never -go down in these!” The man came over to talk to -the Scouts. He was in old clothes, he said, which -he didn’t mind getting dirty. He was a timid looking -man, and seemed grateful that the Scouts were -going to help him out.</p> - -<p>A few minutes later, a pair of feet—very small feet—appeared, -very slowly, on the stairs, and the first -girl—the one in pink—came down. Her cheeks -were as pink as her dress—or what could be seen of -her dress. She had on a pair of long overalls, -turned up at the bottom, with her skirts wobbed up -somehow inside of them, and the apron buckled up -to her neck. She looked very much like a fat boy -in his father’s trousers. Peanut laughed—he couldn’t -help it.</p> - -<p>“I think you are horrid!” she said, darting an -angry look at him.</p> - -<p>“He—he didn’t mean anything,” Art stammered. -“You look all right for—for such rough work.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” said the girl, and she came over -and stood between her father and Art.</p> - -<p>Peanut again winked at Rob.</p> - -<p>All the rest of the feet now began to come down -the stairs, and soon five fat boys in their daddies’ -trousers, and two women looking like Tweedledum -and Tweedledee (it was Peanut who suggested that!) -stood in the room, blushing and laughing.</p> - -<p>“Now come on, we can’t think of our clothes any -more. Let’s get to Lost River,” exclaimed the girl -in pink.</p> - -<p>She seemed to pick Art as her natural escort, and -the pair of them led the way through the door, beside -the guide.</p> - -<p>“I don’t see any river, though,” said Peanut, to -the girl he was with, as they went through the woods -behind the cabin.</p> - -<p>“Of course you don’t; it’s a lost river,” she said.</p> - -<p>“Oh!” said Peanut. “I forgot that. Well, -here’s where it was lost, I guess.”</p> - -<p>The guide just ahead of them had suddenly disappeared -into a hole in the ground, helping Art and -the pink girl down after him.</p> - -<p>“My goodness!” exclaimed the girl at Peanut’s -side. She was a small girl, with very black eyes, -which twinkled. The other girls had called her -Alice.</p> - -<p>“Oh, it’s nothing,” Peanut reassured her. “<i>We’ve</i> -been falling down places since six o’clock.”</p> - -<p>“I wasn’t thinking of myself,” Alice answered, -“but of poor Mamma. Mamma isn’t so <i>slender</i> as—as -<i>you</i> are.”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Rogers will look after Mamma,” said Peanut. -“Come on!”</p> - -<p>He dropped ahead of her into the hole, and clasping -his hands in front of him, made a stirrup for her -to put her foot in, like a step, as she followed.</p> - -<p>They found themselves on a rocky ledge, with -another drop ahead of them. At the bottom of this -drop stood the guide, Art, and the pink girl, in daylight. -The place was really the bottom of a little -cañon, concealed in the woods, and a small river -(not much more than a brook) flowed along it. On -their right, to the east, however, the river vanished -completely out of sight, into a great piled up mass -of boulders. The leaders waited till all the party -had arrived at the bottom, and then the guide led -the way directly in among these boulders, the girls -and women screaming and laughing as they followed.</p> - -<p>It became damp and cold and dark immediately. -They entered a sort of cave, made by two rocks -meeting overhead, and dropped down several feet to -what felt like a sandy beach, though they could, at -first, see nothing. But they could hear the water -running beside them.</p> - -<p>“Look out here,” said the guide, “or you’ll step -into the water. Follow me.”</p> - -<p>Alice, however, didn’t follow him. She was a -frisky girl, and she wanted to see all there was to -see, so she stepped to the left, and suddenly -screamed.</p> - -<p>Peanut grabbed her hand and pulled her back.</p> - -<p>“Sh,” she whispered. “Up to the knees! But -Mamma’d make me go back if she knew!”</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter, Alice?” called her mother.</p> - -<p>“She stubbed her toe,” Peanut answered, quickly.</p> - -<p>“Oh, you nice little liar!” chuckled Alice.</p> - -<p>Peanut was beginning to like her!</p> - -<p>The strange, underground path grew stranger and -stranger. Sometimes they came out into daylight, -and saw the sky and the walls of the cañon far above -them, sometimes they stood in caves fifteen feet -high, sometimes they had to cross the stream on -planks, sometimes go up or down ladders. Finally -they came to a place where the way was completely -blocked, save for a small hole, which didn’t look -more than two feet across.</p> - -<p>Somebody had painted above it, “Fat Man’s -Agony.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t worry me a bit,” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>“Quick, let’s get through, and watch Mamma -come out,” cried Alice.</p> - -<p>Art and the pink girl had disappeared into the -hole already, Art going first. Alice lay down on -her stomach and began to wriggle through after -them, Peanut following. The guide remained behind -to help the rest. The passage was on an incline, -leading upward, and it seemed very long. It -was certainly very dark. But they emerged presently -(the tunnel coming out four feet above the -ground, so one had to do quite an acrobatic stunt to -gain his feet, if he was coming head foremost), and -found Art and the pink girl waiting for them at the -mouth of a cave.</p> - -<p>Behind them they could hear the screams and -laughter of the rest, and Mamma’s voice exclaiming, -“I <i>never</i> can get through there, I tell you!”</p> - -<p>Alice put her face to the hole and shouted back, -“Come on, Mamma, we’ll pull you through if you -stick!”</p> - -<p>Then she looked at her feet. “Gee, Grace,” she -called to the pink girl, “I’m soaked up to my knees!”</p> - -<p>“I was soaked up to my neck two days ago,” -Peanut laughed. “You’ll dry. Anyhow, we can -build a fire when we get out, and you can take off -your wet things, and sit with your little pink tootsies -to the blaze.”</p> - -<p>Alice, with a laugh, gave him a slap on the cheek.</p> - -<p>“Why, Alice!” exclaimed the pink girl, shocked.</p> - -<p>“Oh, he’s a fresh one, he needs it,” said Alice, -and turned with a shriek of delight to see the first -face of the following party emerge through the hole. -It was “Mamma”! Her face was flushed with -exertion, and wore a look of agonized fright. Her -hair was disarranged, and hanging into her eyes. -From behind her issued voices, “Hurry up, Ma, -you’re blocking the passage!”</p> - -<p>“Come here, you laughing monkey, and help -your mother down!” she cried to Alice. “How do -you suppose I can get out of this hole head first?”</p> - -<p>But Alice was too doubled up with mirth to move. -Art and Peanut sprang to her relief. They took her -by the shoulders, one on each side, and pulled her -out, supporting her till she could get her feet down -on the ground. Then they hid on either side of the -tunnel mouth, and as fast as a head appeared, they -grabbed the shoulders behind it, without a word of -warning, and pulled the surprised person forth. The -only one who fooled them was the guide. He came -feet foremost!</p> - -<p>There was nearly a mile of this curious, underground -path, amid caves and tumbled boulders, now -close beside the sunken river, now above it. Some -of the caves were very cold. But suddenly they -saw full daylight ahead, and they stepped out of the -last cave upon a ledge of rock, over which the river -dashed in a pretty waterfall, and went flowing away -down the hill through the woods, on a perfectly sane -and normal above-ground bed.</p> - -<p>“Well, that is quite an experience!” said Papa, -wiping his forehead.</p> - -<p>Mamma looked at her soiled overalls, tried to fix -up her hair, and then fanned herself with the palm -of her hand.</p> - -<p>“Well, I guess the young folks enjoyed it more -than I did!” she panted. Then she spied Alice’s -feet. “Alice!” she cried. “Your feet!”</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter with my feet?” said Alice.</p> - -<p>“You’ll get your death of cold!”</p> - -<p>“Nonsense, my dear,” said Papa.</p> - -<p>“Nonsense or not, she’s got to dry them,” the -mother said. “We must go right back to that -store.”</p> - -<p>“I have a better idea, if you’ll excuse me, Mrs. -Green,” said Rob (he and the oldest of the girls had -evidently been exchanging names). “We’ll build a -fire here by the river, and all have lunch together. -While she’s drying her stockings, we Scouts will -take back the overalls, and bring down all your -grub and our packs, and then we can all walk back -to North Woodstock together after lunch.”</p> - -<p>“A very good idea, too,” exclaimed Papa Green.</p> - -<p>“Well, I’m willing,” said the mother. “I don’t -much want to take that walk back, that’s a fact.”</p> - -<p>“Fire, boys!” cried Peanut, starting to scramble -down beside the falls.</p> - -<p>“Hold on!” Frank cried. “Nobody stirs from -this spot till I get a picture.”</p> - -<p>“Oh,” squealed the girls. “You shan’t take our -picture in these!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I shall! Peanut, you guard the path!”</p> - -<p>“Right-o,” said Peanut. “No lady shall pass save -over my dead body!”</p> - -<p>Frank unslung his camera from the case, and -made everybody get in a group, with the girls in -front. They all tried to sit down, to hide the overalls, -but Rob and Lou and Art kept pulling them up. -Every time they were up, Frank snapped a picture.</p> - -<p>“Now I’ve got you all!” he laughed.</p> - -<p>“What? You were taking us all the time? Oh, -you mean thing!” cried Alice. “Let’s break the -camera, girls!”</p> - -<p>She started for Frank, but he disappeared over -the ledge, with a hoot.</p> - -<p>The Scouts had left their hatchets behind, but they -made a fire pit, and kindled a good fire with dead -stuff, broken by hand. Peanut rigged up a stick -rack beside it for Alice to hang her stockings over. -Meanwhile, off in the bushes, they could hear the -girls and women laughing, as they got out of the -overalls. They came back looking like normal girls -again, only their skirts were rather crumpled.</p> - -<p>The Scouts took the overalls, and, with the guide -and Mr. Rogers, turned toward the road, which led -back to the store. Peanut lingered a bit in the rear.</p> - -<p>“Toast your tootsies nice and warm,” he whispered -to Alice, and ducked quickly away from the -swing she aimed at him.</p> - -<p>“Alice!” he heard Art’s girl saying, “I wish you -wouldn’t be such a tomboy.”</p> - -<p>Peanut grinned to himself, and caught up with the -rest.</p> - -<p>“Some skirts, those, eh, Art?” he said, giving -Art a dig in the ribs.</p> - -<p>Art turned red, and punched back for answer.</p> - -<p>“What was it Art was saying back in Beaver -Meadow about wishing there weren’t any girls in the -world?” asked Rob.</p> - -<p>“Oh, they’re all right, if they wear <i>pink</i>,” said -Peanut.</p> - -<p>“You all make me sick,” Art retorted. “Gee, -Peanut, you got your face slapped, all right!”</p> - -<p>“Sure I did,” said Peanut. “That’s a mark of -affection. I made a hit with her, you see.”</p> - -<p>“That’s a rotten joke,” said Art.</p> - -<p>“All right. Here’s another. You go off and eat -<i>your</i> lunch by yourself, if you don’t like girls. The -rest of us’ll have ours with the crowd. We’ll let -him, won’t we, fellers?”</p> - -<p>Art only grunted, and made no answer to the -laughter of the rest.</p> - -<p>“All of which goes to show, Art,” remarked Mr. -Rogers, who had been listening, “that it’s not safe -to generalize about women. A man’s always bound -to meet one who’ll upset all his ideas.”</p> - -<p>“Or slap his face,” said Art, with a poke at -Peanut.</p> - -<p>At the little store, the boys paid the guide for -their share in the expedition, and shouldered both -their own loads and the lunch baskets the other -party had brought with them, and left in the store. -Then they hurried back down the road.</p> - -<p>Peanut ran on ahead before they got to the camp -site, and slipping as quietly as he could through the -trees and bushes, came suddenly out into the open -space where the fire was. The girls were all sitting -in the shade, except Alice. She was wading barefoot -in the brook, while her stockings and shoes -hung by the fire.</p> - -<p>Peanut stood there grinning a second before -anybody saw him, and then Alice spied him and -squealed.</p> - -<p>“Oh, you little beast!” she said, jumping out of -the water, and grabbing up a tin folding cup, which -her father had evidently carried in his pocket. She -filled this with water, and ran at Peanut, barefoot, appearing -not to mind the rough ground at all. Peanut -was so loaded down with his blanket and pack -and two lunch baskets that he was in no condition to -escape. He tried to run, but his blanket roll caught -in a bush, and before he could yank it free he felt the -whole cupful of water hit his face, and go running -down his neck.</p> - -<p>“Alice!” called Mrs. Green. “<i>Alice!</i> Come -right back here! Aren’t you ashamed!”</p> - -<p>“Not a bit,” said Alice. “He’s perfectly horrid, -coming sneaking up that way on purpose!”</p> - -<p>“Go put on your shoes and stockings and then -apologize!” said her mother, sternly.</p> - -<p>“Ho, that’s all right,” said Peanut. “I was awful -hot. The water feels good. I’d like some -more.”</p> - -<p>“You would, would you?” said Alice, making as -if she were going to the stream again.</p> - -<p>“Only give me time to get my mouth open and -catch it,” Peanut laughed.</p> - -<p>“Alice!” said her mother, again, “I told you to -put your shoes and stockings on.”</p> - -<p>“They’re not dry yet,” said the girl, feeling of -them.</p> - -<p>“Oh, dear, what can you do? The rest will be -here in a moment!” exclaimed her sister, the girl in -pink.</p> - -<p>“I have it!” Peanut said. He slung off his pack, -and produced his pair of extra socks. They were -heavy and long, being made to wear with high boots. -Alice snatched them from him with a laugh, and, -turning her back, sat down to put them on. Then -she got up and turned around. Everybody laughed. -The toes were too long, and flapped a bit when she -walked. Her feet looked huge, for a girl.</p> - -<p>“I hope I wear a big hole in ’em,” she was saying, -as the rest of the Scouts came up.</p> - -<p>But she wasn’t half so mad at Peanut as she had -pretended, evidently, for while Art and Lou were -taking all the responsibility of cooking the lunch and -making the coffee, the two of them walked off together -up the stream to the falls, Alice giving little -“Ouches!” every minute or two as her shoeless feet -stepped on a root or a hard pebble, and they had to -be called back by the rest when lunch was ready.</p> - -<p>It was certainly a merry meal. The girls made -birch bark plates, and they had paper napkins in -their baskets, and plenty of doughnuts to go with -the coffee. Art used the last of the flour and condensed -milk for flapjacks, cooking busily while the -rest ate, and looking very happy when the girl in -pink said, “It’s too bad. <i>You</i> aren’t getting anything -at all.”</p> - -<p>“He don’t mind,” said Peanut. “He’d rather -cook than eat anything, especially for girls.”</p> - -<p>“Does he like girls?” asked Alice, who was -seated on the ground, with her feet sticking out, so -she could wiggle the dangling toes of Peanut’s socks, -which made everybody laugh.</p> - -<p>“Does he like girls! You should have heard -what he said about ’em this morning!” Peanut -replied.</p> - -<p>“Shut up—or when I get you to-night——” Art -half whispered this at Peanut.</p> - -<p>“Oh, tell me, tell me!” cried Alice.</p> - -<p>“I’ll whisper it,” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>He whispered in her ear, and she burst out laughing. -Her sister, in pink, was trying hard to hear, -but she couldn’t.</p> - -<p>“No, I’ll <i>never</i> tell <i>Grace</i>,” said Alice, wriggling -her toes with delight. “Oh, it’s a lovely story, -Grace!”</p> - -<p>Grace moved away to the other side of the circle, -with a pout, and she and Art sat together and finished -their lunch.</p> - -<p>After lunch the girls insisted on clearing the dishes. -“It is a woman’s place to do the dishes!” they said, -and when the dishes were done everybody sat down -under the trees, and the Scouts, at Lou’s suggestion, -got out their knives, and carved their staffs.</p> - -<p>First, they cut their initials, and then in Roman -numerals, the mileage for the day before. “Let’s -see—nineteen miles to the top of Moosilauke, one -mile down the road and back, a mile maybe to camp—twenty-one -miles,” said Peanut, “that’s two XX’s -and a I.”</p> - -<p>When he had finished, Alice took the staff out of -his hand.</p> - -<p>“You’ve forgotten something,” she said.</p> - -<p>“What?” asked Peanut.</p> - -<p>“<i>My</i> initials, silly,” she answered. “If you don’t -put them on, how will you remember me?”</p> - -<p>“By a sore face and a wet shirt,” Peanut replied.</p> - -<p>“Now, don’t be a goose. Put my initials on,” -the girl laughed—“A. G.”</p> - -<p>“It’s not N. G. anyhow,” said Peanut. He carefully -cut her initials beside his own, at the top of the -staff, and of course Alice showed it to her sister and -the other girls, and the rest of the Scouts had to do -the same thing. By the time it was done, Mr. -Green was fast asleep, Mrs. Green was nodding, and -Mr. Rogers was looking at his watch.</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid it’s time this little midsummer day’s -dream was ended,” he smiled. “We’ve got some -way to go yet.”</p> - -<p>“Wake up Papa, then,” said Alice. “Here are -your old socks. Oh, dear, there’s no hole in ’em, -either. I <i>tried</i>, though.”</p> - -<p>She pulled off the socks, tossed them to Peanut, -and went gingerly on her bare feet to the fire, where -her own shoes and stockings had quite dried. In a -moment, they were on. She did everything quickly. -She grabbed a blade of grass, then, and tickled her -father’s nose. He put up his hand and brushed his -face, still sleeping. It was the laughter and his -wife’s voice crying, “Alice! Behave yourself!” -which really woke him up.</p> - -<p>The five miles to North Woodstock were quickly -made—rather too quickly, perhaps, to please the -Scouts. They were having a good time. They -stopped for a few minutes only to look at Agassiz -Basin, where Lost River makes some lovely bathing -pools on the rocky ledges. The Greens, of course, -invited them into their hotel for supper, but Mr. -Rogers shook his head.</p> - -<p>“No,” said he, “we’ve got to get along up the -Notch yet, and be ready for the climb over Liberty -and Lafayette to-morrow. I’m afraid we’ve got to -be on our way.”</p> - -<p>The girls gathered around Frank. One of them -wrote an address on a card, and gave it to him. -“Now, promise,” they said, “you’ve got to send us -all one of those horrid pictures.”</p> - -<p>“If they’re so horrid, I shouldn’t think you’d want -’em,” said Frank.</p> - -<p>“Well, you send ’em just the same,” they answered.</p> - -<p>Everybody shook hands all around, and Alice, as -she released Peanut’s hand, managed to slap his face -lightly, and ran laughing up the steps. The Scouts -tramped away into the village, while the girls waved -their handkerchiefs from the porch.</p> - -<p>“Yes, Art,” Peanut said, “girls <i>are</i> a pesky nuisance. -They look so ugly in pink dresses.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, shut up on that!” Art cried. “You’ve got -a ducking coming to you in the next brook. Anyhow, -<i>mine</i> wasn’t a face-slapping tomboy!”</p> - -<p>“No, she was just <i>too</i> sweet,” laughed Peanut, as -he dodged Art’s swing at his head.</p> - -<p>At the village they stocked up on provisions—bacon, -condensed milk, tea and coffee, flour and -sweet chocolate—for their provisions were well used -up, and soon they were plodding up the road, northward, -and entering the Franconia Notch.</p> - -<p>The road was quite unlike that down which they -had tramped two days before, on the west side of -Kinsman. It was macadamized and full of motors.</p> - -<p>“This is one of the through highways from the -south to the northern side of the mountains,” said -the Scout Master. “I fear we’ve hit it at about the -worst time of day, too, because we’re only twelve -miles from the Profile House, which is the end of the -day’s run for many cars. Most of ’em seem to be -going in that direction.”</p> - -<p>“I should think they were,” said Rob. “My -blanket is covered with dust already.”</p> - -<p>“Gosh, my <i>lungs</i> are covered with dust,” said -Peanut. “How far have we got to go, dodging -these things?”</p> - -<p>“Only six miles,” the Scout Master answered. -“I guess we can stand it that long.”</p> - -<p>It was getting on toward dark in the Notch (where -the sun seems to set much earlier than outside, because -of the high western wall) when they reached -the Flume House.</p> - -<p>“It’s too dark to go up into the Flume to camp -to-night,” Mr. Rogers declared. “Besides, I don’t -know just where the path up Liberty starts, and -we’d better wait for daylight to ask. We’ll go up -the road a few rods, and camp by some brook close -to the road. Then in the morning we can see the -Flume and the Basin and all the sights.”</p> - -<p>The motors had ceased going by now, and the -road was empty. They very soon came to a good -brook, and a few paces off the road put them into -the seclusion of the woods. Here they camped, and -had their supper. The day had been a comparatively -light one—four miles down Moosilauke, six -through Lost River and to North Woodstock, and -six to camp—sixteen in all, mostly down-hill.</p> - -<p>“And don’t forget the two miles at lunch to the -store and back for our packs,” said Frank.</p> - -<p>“An even eighteen, then,” said Rob. “Gee, -that’s not very good.”</p> - -<p>“Women—they’re to blame for everything, ain’t -they, Art?” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>Art got up and made for his tormentor, but -Peanut was too quick for him. He was away into -the rough, dark woods, and Art gave up the chase. -It wasn’t long after, however, in spite of the fact that -they had walked only eighteen miles, when the camp -was asleep.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">A Strange Adventure in the Night</p> - -<p>It seemed to Peanut that he had hardly been -asleep at all, when he was awakened by the -sound of a motor. He listened, cross at being -roused, for the noise to die away up or down the -road, but it didn’t. Instead of that, he plainly heard -the power shut off and the engine come to rest, close -to the camp—right in the road opposite the camp, -in fact. He sat up, rather startled. Then he heard -voices, men’s voices. They were talking in low -tones, which struck him as strange, because out here -in the woods there was no reason why they should -be afraid of waking people up. He wondered for a -second if they could have designs on the camp, but -glancing at the camp-fire, he saw that it had gone -entirely out, so that nobody could have seen the -camp from the road. As he sat there in the dark, -straining his ears, Art woke up, as you often will -when you are sleeping close to somebody else who -has waked.</p> - -<p>“What is it?” Art said.</p> - -<p>“Sh!” cautioned Peanut. He whispered softly -what had roused him.</p> - -<p>“Let’s do some scouting,” said Art.</p> - -<p>They put on their shoes quietly, without waking -any of the others. Art tried to see his watch, but -couldn’t. “Never mind,” he whispered, and the -two boys crawled softly out of camp. It was easy -to get across the brook, because the brook itself -made so much babbling over its stones that the -sound of footsteps could not be heard. Once across, -they were close to the road, in some bushes about -three feet lower than the road level. They could see -little, in the starlight, but they could make out the -shadowy form of a motor, and two men sitting in it. -The head lights and the red tail light were all shut off!</p> - -<p>“That’s funny,” Art whispered. “Gee, it’s against -the law, too.”</p> - -<p>The boys listened. The men were talking in low -tones. Their voices were rough, and they swore -about every second word.</p> - -<p>“We’ll start in fifteen minutes,” one of them was -saying. “Those swells ’round the Profile House hit -the hay late. Won’t do to get there too soon. It’s -almost the last house down this way—lucky for us. -We can turn the car at the wide place in the road -where guys stop to see the Stone Face, and be all -ready for a quick getaway.”</p> - -<p>“How do you know they ain’t got a strong arm -guy guardin’ the sparkle?” asked the other man.</p> - -<p>“They ain’t, I tell yer,” said the first. “Ain’t me -friend Jim got a stable job at the Profile just to tip -us off? Ain’t we got to split with him? Guess -they didn’t reckon there’d be any need to watch the -weddin’ swag, way up here in these God forsaken -hills. Ha! They forgot that automobiles has -changed things!”</p> - -<p>“They are going to rob somebody’s house—at -the Profile,” Art whispered, pulling Peanut back -toward the brook. “Gee, how can we stop ’em?”</p> - -<p>“Let’s rouse the camp, and pinch ’em right now,” -said Peanut.</p> - -<p>“And get shot full of holes in the dark, and they -get away in their car? Not much!”</p> - -<p>“They’d have to crank it, and we could chop up -the tires with our hatchets.”</p> - -<p>“Probably got a self starter, and what would they -do to us while we were chopping? They’d have time -to get away from us and do the job before we could -hike six miles to the Profile and give the alarm. No, -sir, we’ve got to get there somehow as soon as they -do!”</p> - -<p>“We could sneak a ride on the trunk rack behind -the machine!” whispered Peanut.</p> - -<p>“If it’s got one—quick—hatchets!”</p> - -<p>The two Scouts slipped back into camp. Art -grabbed up his hatchet, which he always kept -beside his pillow, and slipped it in his belt. Peanut -put on his. Then Art leaned down beside Rob, -shook him gently, with one hand over his mouth, -and whispered in his ear.</p> - -<p>“Don’t speak!” he said. “Peanut and I are going -up the road to the Profile House. Follow us in -the morning. Cut out the climb. We’ll explain -later. We’ve <i>got</i> to go.”</p> - -<p>“Why—what——” said the astonished Rob.</p> - -<p>“Sh! Don’t ask now. Robbers. We’ve got to -give warning.”</p> - -<p>“Let me go, too,” Rob whispered, trying to rise.</p> - -<p>Art pushed him down. “We’ve got to hook on -behind an auto. There’d not be room. You stay -here, and keep the camp quiet.”</p> - -<p>Rob lay back, a little too sleepy quite to realize -what he was letting the two younger Scouts in for, -and they slipped out of camp again. This time -they went down the brook, walking in the water so -they would make no sound of breaking bushes, and -came out into the road two rods below the motor. -Then they stole on tiptoe, hardly daring to breathe, -close up behind. As the rear lamp was not lighted, -they felt softly with their hands to see if there was -anything to ride on. Luckily, there was a trunk -rack—empty! Straps across it made a rough kind -of seat, just large enough to hold them.</p> - -<p>“We can’t get on yet—not till they start,” whispered -Art. “It would shake the springs.”</p> - -<p>The men were still talking, and the boys crouched -behind the car, in silence, waiting for them to start. -It seemed to Peanut as if his heart beats must be -heard, they were so loud in his breast.</p> - -<p>Suddenly they heard a rustle and crack in the -bushes almost beside them.</p> - -<p>“What’s that?” said one of the men, sharply.</p> - -<p>“Oh, a rabbit, or something,” the other replied. -“There ain’t a house anywhere ’round here. Don’t -be a goat.”</p> - -<p>“It’s Rob. He’ll spoil everything,” whispered -Art, dropping on his hands and knees, and literally -crawling out from behind the motor to the roadside -bushes where the noise came from.</p> - -<p>The noise, of course, had ceased when the men -spoke. Peanut could no longer see Art, in the -shadow of the bushes, but his excited ear could hear -the faint sound of a whisper. He wondered why the -burglars didn’t hear it, also, but they were talking -again, oblivious.</p> - -<p>A minute later Art returned, and before he could -whisper, they heard one of the robbers strike a -match. Evidently he looked at the time, for he -said, “One o’clock. Let her go.”</p> - -<p>There was the click of a self starter, and the engine -began to purr. A loud cough came from the exhaust -at Peanut’s feet, and made him jump. The -car began to throb. As it started, both boys swung -as lightly as they could up on the trunk rack, their -legs dangling out behind, and the motor moved up -the road slowly. Having no lights on, the burglars -couldn’t drive rapidly. Once they ran off the side -into some bushes, and had to reverse.</p> - -<p>They swore, and evidently turned on the minor -head lights, for after that the car went faster and kept -the road. The dust sucked up into the boys’ faces.</p> - -<p>“I gotter sneeze,” whispered Peanut.</p> - -<p>“Quick, tie your handkerchief over your nose and -mouth,” Art whispered back.</p> - -<p>It was a ticklish job letting go both hands to tie -on the handkerchiefs, but they managed to do it -without falling off, and the sneezes were averted. -The sharp edge of the rack hurt their legs. The -dust almost choked them, even through their handkerchiefs. -But they clung fast, and for fifteen or -twenty minutes—it seemed hours—they rode in this -uncomfortable position rapidly through the dark. It -was very dark indeed, for most of the way was -through woods, and they could scarcely see the -stars.</p> - -<p>Presently the machine stopped. Art yanked off -his handkerchief. “They are going to turn it here. -Quick, into the bushes when they back up!”</p> - -<p>The driver ran the car to the right, on what appeared -like a very wide place in the road, and then -reversed. As she slowly backed toward the edge, -the boys waited till their feet were almost in the -bushes, and then they dropped. While the car -moved forward again, they wriggled hastily on their -stomachs in among the dusty bushes, and lay there, -not daring even to whisper, while the driver again -reversed, and brought his car around facing back -down the road up which they had just come. The -two men were now close to the Scouts. They -stopped the engine, and got out. One of them got -out on the side toward the boys. Peanut could almost -have stretched forth his hand and touched the -burglar’s foot.</p> - -<p>But he stepped away, unconscious, and took something -out of the tonneau of the car.</p> - -<p>“Got the sacks?” the other asked.</p> - -<p>“O. K.,” said the first.</p> - -<p>The two men moved up the road on foot, leaving -the car behind, beside the road. Art held Peanut -down till they were so far away that their footsteps -were not audible. Then he sprang up.</p> - -<p>“Quick!” he whispered, “take your hatchet and -cut the tires. Don’t chop and make a noise—draw -the edge over.”</p> - -<p>“They’ll explode,” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>“That’s so. Wait—find the valves, and let the -air out!”</p> - -<p>The two boys worked rapidly, with matches. -They let the air out of each tire, and then cut the -rubber through, to make doubly sure.</p> - -<p>“Wish I knew more about cars,” Art said. “There -must be some way to put the engine on the blink.”</p> - -<p>Peanut lifted the hood. “Hold a match—not too -close!” he said. “Here—here’s a wire. That’ll disconnect -the battery, or something.”</p> - -<p>He yanked the wire out of its connection.</p> - -<p>“Good,” Art exclaimed. “Now, up the road -after ’em!”</p> - -<p>The two boys stood directly under the Great Stone -Face, one of the sights of the White Mountains which -they had come three hundred miles to see—but they -never knew it, nor thought about it. They began to -run up the road, in the dark, as fast as they could go.</p> - -<p>Before long, however, they pulled down to a walk.</p> - -<p>“Those burglars will reconnoitre first, before they -try to break in,” Art whispered. “Go easy, now. -They said it was almost the last house this way.”</p> - -<p>A moment later, the Scouts came out into an open -space. At the farther end, they could see the night -lamps in the windows of what looked like a hotel.</p> - -<p>“Must be the Profile House,” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>To the left they could see other houses, a row of -them, close together, and in the trees, directly at their -left, they could distinguish the outline of what seemed -to be the last house of all. They stole toward it, on -tiptoe, along a path in front. It was quiet. There -was not a sound in the world. The whole settlement -seemed asleep. But Art suddenly put his hand -on Peanut’s shoulder, and they dropped down together -on the ground. The two men were sneaking -from behind this house toward the next one. Art -had seen their figures, as they passed a dimly lighted -window of the second house. A second later, and -the boys heard a faint, curious sound.</p> - -<p>“I know it!” Peanut whispered. “It’s a glass -cutter. Heard it at the painter’s shop.”</p> - -<p>They waited breathlessly, and heard a window -catch sprung, and a window opened.</p> - -<p>“They’re climbing in!” said Art. “Quick, now, -to rouse the house!”</p> - -<p>He sprang up, Peanut after him, and emitted a -Comanche yell, and then began shouting at the top -of his lungs, “Robbers! Robbers!”</p> - -<p>“Robbers! Robbers!” yelled Peanut.</p> - -<p>The two of them sprang up the steps of the house and -began to pound the door with their fists, crying, “Robbers, -robbers!” all the while, as loud as they could.</p> - -<p>The response was startlingly sudden, and came -from all directions at once. The first thing was a -switching on of lights in the house itself, in the upper -rooms. Then the hall light came on. A second -later, the boys saw the two burglars come rushing -around the corner to the path, and make hot footed -by the nearest way, which was the path, for the road -and their auto. Art, so excited he hardly knew what -he was doing, jumped off the veranda and started -to follow, yelling “Stop!” But they kept on running. -Across the clearing from the Profile House -came the sounds of running feet, as two watchmen -raced to the scene. In the other houses lights came -on, heads appeared in windows, the front door of -the house where the boys were pounding was thrown -open, and two men appeared there in pajamas and -dressing gowns. Behind them the boys had a glimpse -of frightened women in nightgowns, and servants in -night clothes, also.</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter, what’s the matter?” the men -exclaimed.</p> - -<p>“Two burglars—got in your house—side window—they’ve -run down the road to their auto—we punctured -the tires——” Peanut gasped out.</p> - -<p>“We can catch ’em if we hurry,” cried Art.</p> - -<p>The watchmen were now on the scene.</p> - -<p>“After ’em, then, boys!” they shouted. “Show -us the way!”</p> - -<p>Two or three other men, half dressed, had now -appeared on the scene, the boys never knew from -where. They were too excited. Peanut and Art -dashed down the path, the rest following, and led -the way toward the stalled motor.</p> - -<p>“They can’t use the car,” Peanut panted back -over his shoulder. “They’ll have to beat it on foot!”</p> - -<p>The pursuing party was going rapidly, but Peanut -was running faster than the rest. He was now fifty -yards ahead. He suddenly heard the engine of the -motor start.</p> - -<p>“They’ve got that wire back!” he thought. “But -they can’t go far on flat tires.”</p> - -<p>He yelled back at the rest to hurry, and at the -sound of the yell, he heard the car start down the -road. It was gone when the rest came into the open -space!</p> - -<p>“We hacked the tires to ribbons,” Art panted. -“They’re on bare rims.”</p> - -<p>“Go back to the house, Tom, quick,” said one of -the watchmen. “Get the Flume House by ’phone, -and have ’em put a guard across the road there, to -stop every car and every person that comes down. -We’ll get a car out, and follow ’em.”</p> - -<p>Everybody now ran up the road again, meeting -more half-dressed men on the way.</p> - -<p>“Where on earth did you kids come from, anyway?” -asked somebody for the first time.</p> - -<p>“We were camping down near the road by the -Flume,” said Art, “and we heard ’em stop their car—woke -us up——”</p> - -<p>“And I heard ’em planning this job,” said Peanut, -while Art got his breath.</p> - -<p>“He crawled out and heard ’em,” Art went on, -“and woke me, and we sneaked onto the trunk rack -behind, and rode up here to give the alarm.”</p> - -<p>“Say, you’re some kids,” the watchman commented. -“Cut their tires—that’s a good one! -They were after the Goodwin wedding presents. -Told Mr. Goodwin he ought to have a detective.”</p> - -<p>“Here he is now,” said somebody.</p> - -<p>Another man had appeared. “No, they didn’t -have time to take a thing,” he was saying, “so far -as we can see. Have you got ’em? Who was it -warned us?”</p> - -<p>The boys were pointed out to him. “Thank you -both,” he said. “I’ll thank you more in the morning. -You want a motor to chase ’em in? Get mine -out, quick!”</p> - -<p>Three minutes later, four motors were brought -from the garages, and more than a dozen of the men -who were gathered in the road piled into them. -Peanut and Art rode in the first car, with two of the -watchmen. Art had his hatchet in his hand, and -the watchmen had their revolvers ready, too. They -went down the road at high speed, the search-lights -throwing the road and the bordering trees into brilliant -white relief ahead, amid the surrounding gloom. -The occupants of the car sat with their eyes glued on -the end of the white shaft of light.</p> - -<p>“Some rims on that car!” said the driver. He -slowed down. “See, there are the tracks. They -must have been traveling, too. How many of ’em -were there, did you say?”</p> - -<p>“Two,” said Art.</p> - -<p>“Light load. Maybe they got to the Flume -House before a rim broke.”</p> - -<p>He put on speed again, and they flashed into a -level stretch. Art and Peanut both exclaimed at -once, “Look—there’s Rob!”</p> - -<p>Sure enough, standing beside the road, was Rob, -plainly to be seen in the glare of the powerful search -lamps. The driver put on brakes, and stopped. -Rob jumped into the car.</p> - -<p>“A car just went by—two minutes ago—no, less—a -minute. I couldn’t sleep again, worrying about -you kids. It was those same men, Art. Heard ’em -swear.”</p> - -<p>The pursuing car once more leaped forward. -Looking back, Peanut saw the lamps of the motor -next behind them. The driver put on speed now -with a vengeance. It seemed hardly a second before -ahead of them they heard a shout, and they -emerged from the woods into the clearing by the -Flume House, and their lamps struck full upon a -dramatic picture.</p> - -<p>There, in front, was the car they were chasing. -Across the road was strung a heavy rope with a red -lantern swung from it, and close to the car, on either -side, stood two men, with gleaming revolvers pointed -at the two burglars on the seat. The revolver barrels -flashed in the glare of the search-light. Art and -Peanut and the rest in the pursuing car sprang -to the ground and ran forward. The two burglars -offered no resistance. What was the use? They -were looking into four pistol barrels now! Ropes -were quickly brought, and their hands tied. The -other three pursuing cars came up, the excitement -roused a number of guests in the hotel, and Art and -Peanut found themselves in the midst of a throng as -the captives were being led to the concrete garage -to be locked up. Everybody wanted to know all -about it, and the boys had to repeat their story a -dozen times.</p> - -<p>Finally Mr. Goodwin and a young man who -seemed to be his son, and who had been one of those -to open the door, got hold of them.</p> - -<p>“You boys have saved us many thousands of dollars,” -the father said. “We don’t quite know how -to thank you. Of course, I know something about -Scouts, and I won’t offer you money, because you -wouldn’t take it.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, sir,” said Art.</p> - -<p>“Of course not. But I’ve got a motor you can -have to go where you please in to-morrow, or next -day, or any time, and I own a whole fish pond in -the woods back here, with a cabin on it where you -can camp, and my wife and daughter will want to -thank you. You must give me your names, so my -other daughter, who was married this morning, and -whose presents you saved, can write to you.”</p> - -<p>Art and Peanut both stammered, rather uncomfortable.</p> - -<p>“Why, that’s all right, sir,” Art finally said. “We -just did what seemed right—had to do something -quick. We’re camped just up the road, with a party. -We’re going over Liberty and Lafayette to-morrow, -and then on to Washington. We’re much obliged, -but I guess there’s nothing we could use. You see, -we’re on a schedule.”</p> - -<p>“Take me back to your camp,” said Mr. Goodwin, -with a smile toward his son.</p> - -<p>“Gosh, I don’t know whether we can ever find it -in the dark!” cried Peanut.</p> - -<p>They got into Mr. Goodwin’s car, with Rob.</p> - -<p>“Let me ride in front,” said Rob, “and go slow. -There will be wheel tracks where the car turned in to -pick me up just now.”</p> - -<p>“Well, that’s an idea!” said Mr. Goodwin. -“You boys seem to be ready for anything.”</p> - -<p>“Be prepared—that’s our motto,” Peanut replied, -proudly.</p> - -<p>The car moved slowly back up the road, and Rob -and the driver kept their eyes open. Soon Rob -signaled to stop. The driver took a pocket electric -flash lamp from under the seat, and handed it to -Rob, who led the way through the bushes, and -across the brook. He flashed it up and down the -wall of bushes and trees, and suddenly, out of the -darkness, came a sleepy grunt, and a startled, “Hi, -what’s that? Who’s there?”</p> - -<p>“Wake up, Frank, and hear the birdies sing,” -cried Peanut.</p> - -<p>Frank, Lou and Mr. Rogers sat up, rubbing their -eyes, as the others came into camp. Art lit the -camp lantern, and by its light the story of the night’s -adventure was hastily told.</p> - -<p>“Well, well!” exclaimed Mr. Rogers. “I <i>am</i> a -bad Scout Master! To think I slept right through -everything!”</p> - -<p>“I think you are a pretty good one, to develop -such Scouts as these,” said Mr. Goodwin.</p> - -<p>“Oh, rats!” exclaimed Frank, “to think I missed -it all!”</p> - -<p>“Me, too,” said Lou.</p> - -<p>“They didn’t let me in on much,” Rob laughed.</p> - -<p>“Why didn’t you wake the rest of us?” Lou demanded -of Peanut.</p> - -<p>“The more awake, the more noise,” said Peanut. -“Rob almost gummed the game. Would have if -the burglars hadn’t thought he was a rabbit.”</p> - -<p>“Well, boys,” Mr. Goodwin put in, “you want to -be going back to sleep.” He looked at his watch, -and added, “My, my! it’s three o’clock. The sun -will be up in less than two hours! Now, I want -you all to come to my house to dinner to-morrow -night. We’ve got to celebrate, and talk this adventure -over. You can get down Lafayette by -seven, can’t you? I’m sure you can. Seven o’clock, -then!”</p> - -<p>“But we haven’t got any joy rags,” Peanut protested.</p> - -<p>Mr. Goodwin laughed. “You’ll have appetites—that’s -all I ask!”</p> - -<p>He spoke a few words quietly to the Scout Master -and then went back to his car. Peanut and Art -kicked off their shoes again, and lay down with the -rest, to sleep. But they were too excited to sleep. -They lay side by side and conversed in whispers of -the night’s excitement, while the Scout Master and -Rob were also whispering. Once they heard Rob -say, “But it was the only way to save the property, -and if I’d waked you all up, what good would it -have done? We couldn’t get to the Profile on foot -till long after the trouble was over. I just had to -trust ’em. It seemed to me a job Scouts ought to -tackle, even if it was dangerous.”</p> - -<p>“I guess you’re right,” they heard Mr. Rogers -answer. “But I hope the next time we can all be -in on the adventure. I don’t like to have my party -split up when there’s danger.”</p> - -<p>“Good old Mr. Rogers!” whispered Peanut. -“Guess we gave him a scare.”</p> - -<p>“There’s one thing we forgot,” said Art, suddenly. -“They said they had a pal—Jim, wasn’t it?—employed -in the Profile stables. We ought to tip off the -Profile House first thing in the morning.”</p> - -<p>“Well, you can’t remember everything, when -you’re chasing burglars,” said Peanut, as he rubbed -his dust-filled eyes.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">Over the Lafayette Ridge, with a Dinner -Party at the End</p> - -<p>The two adventurers must have dropped off to -sleep toward daylight, for they were both conscious -of being shaken and told to get up.</p> - -<p>Peanut rubbed his eyes. “Gee, I dreamed one -of those burglars had grabbed me and was dragging -me into Lost River,” he said.</p> - -<p>“I suppose if I’d slapped your face you’d have -dreamed of Alice Green,” Lou laughed. “Come on, -get up and wash yourself. Golly, but you’re dirty!”</p> - -<p>Peanut and Art were certainly dirty. They had -gone on their expedition the night before without -hats, and their hair was full of dust, their faces -smeared with it, and their hands almost black from -clinging to the dusty trunk rack behind the motor. -They both got up, and took off their clothes, shaking -clouds of dust out of them. Then they went down -to the brook, shivering in the chill morning air (it -was full daylight, but the sun was still hidden behind -the high eastern wall of Liberty) and washed -themselves. When they returned to camp, they -found breakfast waiting.</p> - -<p>“Well, well, it pays to be a hero,” said Peanut. -“Somebody else does the work for you, then.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t worry, it won’t happen often, Mr. Modesty,” -said Frank. “We were too hungry to wait, that’s all.”</p> - -<p>After breakfast they doused their fire, packed up, -and went down the road to the Flume House. It -was still so early that none of the guests in the old -hotel were astir, though servants were about, sweeping -the verandas.</p> - -<p>Peanut, Art and Rob showed where the rope had -been stretched across the road, with a red lantern on -it, to stop the escaping motor, and then led the way -to the garage. The two watchmen, pistols in hand, -were sitting before the door.</p> - -<p>“Hello, boys!” the head watchman said. “We -still got ’em in there, in the corner room. Sheriff’s -coming over from Littleton for ’em as soon as he -can get here. You’d better not look at ’em—might -make ’em unhappy,” he added to Peanut, who was -trying to look in the high window.</p> - -<p>Peanut laughed. “We did rather gum their -game, didn’t we?”</p> - -<p>“You sure did. Here, stand on this chair.”</p> - -<p>The boys all took a turn looking in the window. -What they saw was two men evidently asleep on a -blanket on the floor.</p> - -<p>“Don’t seem to trouble ’em much,” said Peanut. -“Where’s their car?”</p> - -<p>One of the watchmen led the way into the garage, -and showed them the car, which had come six miles -on the rims.</p> - -<p>“Stolen, of course,” he said. “It’s a five thousand -dollar car, too. Somebody else will thank you, beside -Mr. Goodwin. Oh, say, I nearly forgot. The -sheriff says to hold you boys till he comes, because -you’ve got to give evidence.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no!” they all exclaimed. “We’ve got to -get up Lafayette!”</p> - -<p>“Tell the sheriff we’ll be at Mr. Goodwin’s at -seven this evening, and he can take the boys’ affidavits -then,” said Mr. Rogers.</p> - -<p>“Well, I dunno. He told me particular to keep -’em.”</p> - -<p>“You can’t keep ’em if they want to go, you -know, without a warrant,” Mr. Rogers smiled. -“Here, keep their names and addresses for him, -and tell him, Mr. Goodwin’s this evening.”</p> - -<p>“Well, you got a fine day for the mountain,” the -watchman said. “Go see the Pool and the Flume -first, and then just keep right up the head of the -Flume. You’ll hit the path.”</p> - -<p>“How long will it take us to make Lafayette?” -asked Rob.</p> - -<p>“Six hours, I guess,” he answered.</p> - -<p>“Easy,” said they. “Goodbye.”</p> - -<p>They had turned away before Art and Peanut remembered -to tip off the watchman about the third -thief, Jim, at the Profile stables. Then they started -once more.</p> - -<p>The party now crossed the road, and entered a -path through the woods, marked “The Pool.” After -a short walk through dense woods, they descended -rapidly through a break in a cliff wall, for nearly a -hundred and fifty feet, and stood beside the strangest -little lake they had ever beheld. It was about a -hundred and fifty feet across, more or less circular -in shape, and surrounded by high cliffs which made -it seem like a pond at the bottom of a crater. The -water, which was astonishingly clear, came into it -at the upper end in the form of a cascade, and escaped -not far from the boys through a fissure, or -tiny cañon, in the rocks.</p> - -<p>“My, I’d like to swim in that! What a place to -dive in!” cried Art. “How deep is it?”</p> - -<p>“About fifty feet, I believe,” said the Scout Master.</p> - -<p>“Looks a thousand,” said Peanut. “Come on, -let’s all have one dive.”</p> - -<p>Rob felt of the water. “One would be about all -you’d want,” he said. “Besides, we haven’t time.”</p> - -<p>The Scouts left the Pool reluctantly, climbed back -up the cliff, and found the path to the Flume. This -Flume, they soon discovered, resembled almost exactly -the flume on Kinsman, save that the walls were -higher and stood farther apart, and it was also -longer. But the path to it was much more traveled, -and there was a board walk built up through it beside -the brook, so that it did not seem so wild nor -impressive as the smaller flume on Kinsman. They -soon passed through it, found the path up Liberty, -and began to climb.</p> - -<p>As on all the White Mountains, the first part of -the climb led through woods, and no views were to -be had, neither of the summit ahead nor the valley -behind. It was a steep path, too, much steeper than -the Benton Trail up Moosilauke, though not so steep -as the Beaver Brook Trail down which they had -tumbled the day before. At first everybody was -chattering gaily, and Peanut and Art were telling -over again all their experiences of the night before. -But gradually, as the sun mounted, as the trail grew -still steeper and rockier, as their packs and blankets -got heavier and hotter, conversation died out. -Everybody was panting. Rob, who was pacemaker -for the morning, would plod away, and then set -his pack down to rest. The others rested when he -did, and no oftener. Climbing began to be mechanical. -Art consulted his watch and his pedometer.</p> - -<p>“That Appalachian guide book isn’t far from -right,” he admitted to Mr. Rogers. “We aren’t -making much over a mile an hour.”</p> - -<p>“That’s enough, in this heat,” the Scout Master -replied. “Better fill canteens at the next spring, -Rob,” he called ahead. “I don’t know whether -we’ll get any more water to Lafayette. I’ve forgotten -this trail.”</p> - -<p>At the next spring they all took a long drink and -a long rest. Shortly after, they emerged above -timber, and found themselves to the northwest of the -peak of Liberty, and almost at its base, while ahead -of them the path pointed up the rocky ledges toward -Haystack. With full canteens to add to their load, -they plodded on.</p> - -<p>Now they could see below them, far down into the -Notch, and across the Notch they could see the -steep side of Kinsman going up, and the peak where -they had unfurled the flag on the Fourth of July. -They began to realize for the first time, too, how -difficult it could become in a cloud to keep the path, -for where the trail led over bare rocks it was almost -indistinguishable under foot, and you had to look -ahead to find a pile of stones, or a place where it -wound through the mountain cranberries or other -Alpine plants, to find it. The sun was very hot on -their backs, and all of them, under the blankets and -knapsacks, were perspiring freely.</p> - -<p>“I’m wringing wet,” said Peanut. “Wish we -had the Pool right here. Would I go in? Hm——”</p> - -<div class="figcenter illowp95" id="echo-lake" style="max-width: 30em;"> - <img class="w100" src="images/echo-lake.jpg" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>Echo Lake, Franconia Notch, and Mount Lafayette from Bald Mountain</p></div> -</div> - -<p>But this lofty, bare space was also swept by a -breeze, which curiously enough dried the perspiration -on their faces, and when they paused to rest, -taking off their packs, dried out their shirts so rapidly -that the evaporation made them cold.</p> - -<p>Once on top of Haystack, their way over the summit -of the ridge lay plain before them, the view -opened out on both sides, and they dropped their -burdens to have a long look.</p> - -<p>Straight ahead, the path dropped down to the -col between Haystack and Lincoln—a col being the -connecting spine, ridge, or saddle between two -peaks. This col was certainly a spine, bare, wind-swept, -narrow, nothing but an edge of gray tumbled -rock. The mountain dropped down sharply on both -sides, and the boys exclaimed, almost in a breath:</p> - -<p>“Gee, I’d hate to cross that with the winter storms -sweeping it!”</p> - -<p>“I’d hate to be anywhere above timber line, in a -winter storm,” said Mr. Rogers, “unless I was dressed -like Peary on his dash to the Pole, and the path was -plain.”</p> - -<p>It was perhaps a mile across the col to Lincoln. -“And beyond that another mile or more—up all -the way—to Lafayette!” the Scout Master cried. -“Shall we make Lafayette before we lunch, or not?”</p> - -<p>The Scouts all voted for it, and moved on again, -across the col to Lincoln. The path lay entirely -over stones, not great levels of ledge, but small, -broken stones, making walking with anything but -very stout boots on extremely trying to the feet. -All the way, on their left, they could see down into -the forests of the Notch, and they could look, too, -down upon the Lonesome Lake plateau, and even -upon the top of Kinsman, for they were higher than -Kinsman already. On the other side, toward the -east, they looked down into a spectacle of indescribable -desolation—a wild region of deep ravines and -valleys separated by steep mountains, and the entire -region stripped to the bare earth by the lumbermen. -On some of the steep hillsides, slides had followed, -to complete the destruction. This desolation extended -as far eastward as they could see, and was -evidently still going on, for off to the south they -could see a logging railroad emerging from the -former forest, and once they heard, very faint and far -off, the toot of a locomotive whistle.</p> - -<p>“When I was a boy your age, Rob,” said Mr. -Rogers, “all that country in there, which is known -as the East Branch region, because the East Branch -of the Pemigewassett rises in it, was primeval -wilderness. There was a trail through from North -Woodstock over Twin Mountain to the Twin Mountain -House, with branches to Thoreau Lake and -Carrigain. It was wonderful timber—hemlocks a -hundred and fifty feet tall, great, straight, dark -spruces like cathedral pillars! I tramped through it -once—took three days as I remember. And look at -it now!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, why do they allow it!” cried Rob. “Why, -they haven’t planted a single new tree, or let a single -old one stand. They’ve just <i>stripped</i> it.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, and spoiled the soil by letting the sun bake -it out, too,” said Lou.</p> - -<p>“We aren’t such a progressive people, we Americans, -as we sometimes think we are,” the Scout -Master replied. “In Germany they’d have taken -out only the big trees, and planted little ones, and -when the next size was bigger, they’d have taken -them out, and planted more little ones, and so on -forever. And we Scouts could be hiking down -there, beside a rushing little river, in the depths of a -glorious forest.”</p> - -<p>“I’m never going to read a Sunday paper again—’cept -the sporting page!” Peanut answered.</p> - -<p>“Do you read any more of it now?” Art asked.</p> - -<p>“It wasn’t the Sunday papers which stripped that -region,” said Mr. Rogers. “It was a lumberman, -who made boards and beams of the timber. What -did he care about the future, so long as <i>he</i> got rich? -Still, I blame the state and the nation more than I -blame him. He should never have been allowed to -lumber that wasteful way—nobody should. Look, -boys, there’s a cloud on Washington again.”</p> - -<p>The boys had almost forgotten Washington in -their interest in the stripped forest below them. -They looked now far off to the northeast, twenty-five -miles away as the crow flies, and saw just -the blue bases of the Presidentials, wearing a white -hood.</p> - -<p>“Say, will that cloud come over here?” asked -Peanut. “Kind o’ lonesome up here, as it is.”</p> - -<p>“Ho, we’ve got a compass. We could always -just go west, down to the Notch road,” said Art.</p> - -<p>Peanut looked down into the Notch. “Thanks,” -he said, “but if you don’t mind I’d rather go by a -path.”</p> - -<p>“I guess we’ve nothing to fear from those clouds,” -said the Scout Master. “The wind is west. They’re -nothing but local.”</p> - -<p>By this time they had reached the top of Lincoln, -after a steady upward toil. Another col lay ahead -of them—just a huge knife blade of jagged stone, -with the path faintly discernible winding across it -and stretching up the rocky slope of the final stone -sugar loaf of Lafayette.</p> - -<p>“There’s journey’s end!” cried Mr. Rogers. -“All aboard for the final dash to the Pole!”</p> - -<p>They descended rapidly from Lincoln, and soon -began the ascent again, across the rising slope of -the col, and then up the cone of Lafayette itself.</p> - -<p>“I’m getting sort of empty,” said Frank. “What -time is it, Art?”</p> - -<p>Art looked at his watch. “No wonder!” he said. -“It’s one o’clock, and after—twenty minutes after. -What interests me is, how are we going to cook any -lunch up here on top?”</p> - -<p>“We can’t,” Mr. Rogers said. “Of course, -there’s no wood. We’ll just have to eat something -cold, or else wait till we can get down to timber -line.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, dear! How long will that be?” said Frank.</p> - -<p>“I should fancy we could make timber in half an -hour from the top.”</p> - -<p>“That would be two, even if we didn’t stay on top -any time, wouldn’t it?”</p> - -<p>“I <i>gotter</i> stay on top long enough to dry my -shirt,” Peanut answered. “It’s sticking to me.”</p> - -<p>“Then you’ll have to eat emergency rations and -sweet chocolate,” said Art. “There’s nothing else -which doesn’t have to be cooked.”</p> - -<p>“We ought to bake some bread and have a bit of -potted ham, or something like that, for noon lunches,” -said Rob. “I move we do it to-night.”</p> - -<p>“To-night?” sniffed Peanut. “To-night, I guess -you forget, we dine on roast beef and plum pudding, -because Art and I are heroes!”</p> - -<p>“I <i>did</i> forget, <i>both</i> facts,” Rob laughed.</p> - -<p>“Well, which is it, emergency rations, or wait till -we get down to timber?” asked the Scout Master.</p> - -<p>“Emergency rations!” said Lou and Frank.</p> - -<p>“Wait!” said Art and Peanut (who had eaten -emergency rations before).</p> - -<p>“It’s up to you to cast the deciding vote,” said -Mr. Rogers to Rob.</p> - -<p>Rob winked at the Scout Master and said, “Well, -if Art and Peanut are such heroes, a bit of nice, -chewy pemmican won’t hurt ’em. I vote to stay on -top.”</p> - -<p>“For two cents,” said Peanut, “I’d punch you in -the eye.”</p> - -<p>As they neared the top of the peak, they suddenly -heard voices, which sounded strange way up there, -far above the world, where for hours they had heard -nothing but the rushing of the wind.</p> - -<p>“Hello!” exclaimed Mr. Rogers, “there’s a party -here ahead of us.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll bet there are women in it, too,” cried Peanut. -“And I wanted to dry my shirt!”</p> - -<p>“Hm,” said Art. “Seem to be times when even -<i>you</i> don’t want women around.”</p> - -<p>There were, however, no women in the party. As -the Scouts crested the final broken fragment of rock, -they found themselves on a summit no larger than a -city back yard, and on that summit an old foundation -hole, where once a small summit house had -stood. Down in this hole, sheltered from the wind, -were three men. Like the Scouts, they wore khaki. -They, too, had packs and blankets, and they all -needed shaves. They were eating their lunch as the -boys suddenly appeared just above them.</p> - -<p>“Hello!” they called up. “Where did you come -from?”</p> - -<p>“Up from the Flume,” said the boys.</p> - -<p>“Took the wrong way,” said the men. “That’s -the way to go down. You got the long trail up.”</p> - -<p>“We like hard work,” Peanut retorted. “Excuse -me while I dry my shirt.”</p> - -<p>He took off his pack and blanket, and then peeled -himself of his outer and undershirt, spread them on -a rock in the wind and sun—and began to shiver.</p> - -<p>“Wow! How this wind evaporates you!” he -cried.</p> - -<p>“Get down out of it,” commanded the Scout Master, -“and keep moving. You’ll get cold if you don’t.”</p> - -<p>Peanut jumped into the foundation hole, out of -the wind, and swung his arms like a coachman in winter. -Art took off his shirts, too, and did the same -thing. The rest decided to wait till they made camp -at the base.</p> - -<p>“And now for the emergency rations,” cried Rob, -undoing his pack.</p> - -<p>(“Look at those guys—sandwiches! Oh, dear, -wish you had a gun to hold ’em up, Art!” whispered -Peanut.)</p> - -<p>(“I’d like to,” the other whispered back. “‘Your -sandwiches or your life!’ eh?”)</p> - -<p>Rob, meanwhile, had produced a small blue tin, -and was opening it. The three strangers looked on -with an amused curiosity. Rob sniffed the contents, -assured himself that it was fresh, and with his knife -blade dug out a chunk for each member of the -party.</p> - -<p>“Gee, is that all I get for lunch?” said Frank, -contemplating the piece in his hand, no bigger than -an English walnut.</p> - -<p>“It’ll be all you’ll want, believe me,” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>“And all you need to stop your hunger and nourish -you till night,” Rob added. “That’s condensed -food.”</p> - -<p>Peanut took his piece over to the three men. “I’ll -swap this excellent and nourishing morsel for a ham -sandwich,” he said.</p> - -<p>The men laughed. “You will not!” one of them -answered, hastily stuffing the last of his sandwich -into his mouth. “I’ve tried that before, myself. If -you’ve got a little water to soften it up in, and a bit -of bread to put it on, it’s not so bad, at that.”</p> - -<p>One of the other men passed over a sandwich—but -not to Peanut. He gave it to Rob. “Divide -the bread,” he said. “It’ll make your rations go -better.”</p> - -<p>Each boy, then, got a third of a slice of bread, and -a tiny morsel of ham. On this they put their chunk -of emergency rations, softened with the last of the -water from the canteens, and began to eat. Nobody -seemed to be enjoying the food very much, but -their expressions grew less pained the longer they -chewed.</p> - -<p>“Beats all how long you can chew this before it -disappears,” said Lou. “Gets sweeter, too.”</p> - -<p>“Maybe that’s the bread. Bread almost turns to -sugar if you chew and chew it without swallowing,” -said Rob. “But this pemmican stuff certainly is -filling.”</p> - -<p>“What’s it made of?” Lou asked.</p> - -<p>“Rats and rubber boots,” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>Mr. Rogers laughed. “Not exactly—put on your -shirt, Peanut,” he said. “Pemmican was originally -made of dried venison, pounded up with fat and berries. -Now it’s made of dried beef pounded up with -dried fruits and fats, and packed into a jelly cake to -harden. That’s about what this is, I fancy. It’s -very nourishing.”</p> - -<p>“All right, but where’s the sweet chocolate?” -Peanut demanded.</p> - -<p>Rob passed out the chocolate for dessert, and after -it was eaten, everybody began to complain of being -thirsty. The canteens were empty.</p> - -<p>“There’s a spring just below the summit,” said one -of the three strangers.</p> - -<p>“You mean there <i>was</i>,” laughed a second. “You -drank it all dry on the way up.”</p> - -<p>“Let’s get there on the way down before he does,” -cried Peanut.</p> - -<p>“No fear,” the first speaker laughed, “we are going -down over the ridge, the way you just came up. -We’re doing Moosilauke to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>“By the Beaver Brook Trail?” the boys asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes. Have you been over it? How is it?”</p> - -<p>“It ain’t,” said Peanut. “It was, but it ain’t.”</p> - -<p>“What do you mean?”</p> - -<p>“He means it’s eroded into pretty steep drops in -places,” Rob put in. “We thought when we came -down that it would be an awful pull up.”</p> - -<p>“There’s a good logging road across the brook, -though,” one of the men said. “If you’d taken that -instead of the trail you’d have had no trouble. I was -over it last year.”</p> - -<p>“I’m glad we didn’t,” Art said—“at least as long -as we were coming down.”</p> - -<p>Both parties now packed up their loads, took a -last good look at the view, with Washington still -under the clouds, and said good-bye, the three -strangers going off down the ridge, the Scouts turning -northwest, and winding down the summit cone, -over the rough, broken stones of the path. At the -base of the cone, they found the spring, a small, -shallow basin in the stones, so shallow that the water -had to be dipped gingerly to keep from stirring up -the bottom. By the time the last boy had drunk his -fill, in fact, there wasn’t enough water left to dip. -Then the path turned due west, and descended at a -more gradual angle, still over small, flat, sharp fragments -of stone, toward a little pond in a hollow of -the mountain’s shoulder, just below the line where -the dwarf trees stopped entirely.</p> - -<p>They were soon on a level with this lake, which is -called Eagle Lake, but the path was two or three -hundred feet south of it, and to get in to it meant -fighting through tough dwarf spruce and other verdure, -only waist high, but as good as a wire fence. -They stuck to the trail, which led through this dwarf -vegetation almost on a level for some distance, then -actually began to go up-hill again, on to the west -shoulder of the mountain.</p> - -<p>“Oh, rats!” cried Peanut. “I’ve gone up enough -to-day!”</p> - -<p>“Heroes shouldn’t be tired,” said Frank.</p> - -<p>“Heroes need sleep, just the same,” Peanut retorted.</p> - -<p>The ascent, however, was not for long. Soon they -swung northwest again, entered timber at last, and -began to descend rapidly. After a mile or so on this -tack, the timber growing ever taller, they brought up -against the end of Eagle Cliff, which rose straight up -in front of them. Here the path swung west again, -and began its final plunge to the Profile House. It -was a good, generous path through the woods. In -years gone by it used to be a bridle path, for people -ascended Lafayette on horseback.</p> - -<p>“I’d hate to be the horse, though,” Peanut said, -as he put his pole ahead of him, and cleared six feet -at a jump.</p> - -<p>It was, indeed, a steep path, and they came down -it at a high rate of speed.</p> - -<p>“Gee, we go up about a mile an hour, and we -come down about six!” Art exclaimed, catching a -tree beside the path to stop himself.</p> - -<p>They began to have glimpses of the Profile House -between the trees. The trail suddenly slid out nearly -level in front of them; other paths appeared, crossing -theirs; and before they realized where they were, -they stood in the clearing, by the railroad station, -and just beyond them was the huge Profile House -and the colony of cottages.</p> - -<p>Peanut and Art sprang ahead. “Whoa!” cried -Mr. Rogers. “Suppose we leave our packs and -stuff in the depot, and prospect light-footed, eh?”</p> - -<p>The baggage master at the depot recognized Art -and Peanut. He had been one of the pursuing party -the night before. He stowed their things in his baggage -room. “Guess you can have the freedom of -the city!” he said. “Wouldn’t wonder, if you went -to the hotel, they’d give ye something cold.”</p> - -<p>“Come on!” cried Peanut.</p> - -<p>“No,” said Art, “I ain’t so thirsty I have to be -treated. I don’t think we want to do that, do you, -Mr. Rogers?”</p> - -<p>“What do you think—on second thought, Peanut?” -asked the Scout Master.</p> - -<p>“Well, we’re taking a dinner from Mr. Goodwin, -ain’t we?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Art, “but that’s different. We helped -save his silver and stuff. And it’s just in his family. -Up there at the hotel, there’d be a crowd around—women, -and things. Looks kind of as if we were -trying to get into the lime-light.”</p> - -<p>“Guess you’re right,” Peanut replied. “Come -on, then, and show us the Old Man of the Mountain, -Mr. Rogers. But ain’t there a place where we can -<i>buy</i> a drink?”</p> - -<p>“We’ll find one—after we’ve seen the face,” the -Scout Master laughed. He looked at his watch. -“After four, boys,” he added. “We’ve got to get a -camp ready, and spruce up before dinner, and I’ve -got to go to the hotel and get a shave.”</p> - -<p>They stepped up from the railroad station to the -road. Directly before them was the Profile House, -a large wooden hotel, facing south. Behind it rose -the steep wall of Cannon Mountain, and south of it, -on the lowest terrace of the slope, was a double row -of cottages, ending, on a bend, with a group including -Mr. Goodwin’s. Behind the boys, back where -they had come, they could see the first steep, wooded -slope of Lafayette, and to the north the great rocky -precipice of Eagle Cliff. Looking south again, the -road disappeared between the landslides of Lafayette -on the one hand, and the wall of Cannon on the -other, a narrow notch, not much wider than the road -itself. The opening where the boys stood was only -large enough to hold the hotel and cottages, and -three or four tennis courts, on which a crowd was -playing.</p> - -<p>The party went south down the road, Peanut and -Art pointing out Mr. Goodwin’s house, and the -track taken by the burglars, and quickly left the -houses behind. After a quarter of a mile or so, the -woods opened out ahead, and presently the boys -stood in a place where the road was enlarged to the -left into a semicircle, and in that semicircle a team -or a motor could stop for the view.</p> - -<p>“It’s the place!” cried Peanut. “Here’s where -they left the car! And those are the bushes we -crawled into, Art!”</p> - -<p>“And there’s the Old Man of the Mountain,” said -Mr. Rogers.</p> - -<p>The Scouts followed his finger. Looking through -an opening in the trees across the road, toward the -southwest, they saw first a beautiful little lake, so -still that it mirrored every reflection, and then, rising -directly out of the woods beyond this lake a -huge cliff, curved at first, but gradually attaining -the perpendicular till it shot up like the side of a -house, fifteen hundred feet into the air. At the very -top of it, looking southward down the valley, was, -indeed, the Old Man of the Mountain—a huge knob -of rock thrust forth from the pinnacle of the precipice, -and shaped precisely like a human profile, with -sunken eye under a brow like Daniel Webster’s, -sharp nose, firm mouth, and, as Mr. Rogers said, -“quite literally a granite chin.”</p> - -<p>The boys looked at it in silence for a moment, and -then Peanut said, “But it looks so much bigger in -all the pictures in the geographies. Why, it really -looks as small up there as—as the moon.”</p> - -<p>“That’s because the photographs of it are taken -with a telescope lens, I guess,” said Frank. “My -camera would make it look about six miles off.”</p> - -<p>“How big is it?” asked Lou.</p> - -<p>“They say about eighty feet from forehead to -chin,” the Scout Master replied. “And it’s about -fifteen hundred feet up the cliff.”</p> - -<p>“I’d like to see it in full face,” Lou added. “Could -we walk down the road and see it that way?”</p> - -<p>“We’ve not time, I’m afraid,” Mr. Rogers replied. -“We’d have to walk a mile or more. It isn’t so -impressive full face. In fact, this is the only spot -where the human likeness is perfect. At many -points along the road the full face view shows only -a mass of rocks.”</p> - -<p>Lou was still looking at the great stone face gazing -solemnly down over the valley.</p> - -<p>“It’s like the Sphinx, somehow,” he said. “I’ve -always thought of the Sphinx looking forever out -over the desert, and this old man of the mountain -looks just the same way forever down the Notch. It -gives me a funny feeling—I can’t explain it. But -somehow it seems as if he ought to be very wise.”</p> - -<p>Peanut laughed, but Mr. Rogers didn’t laugh.</p> - -<p>“Lou has just the right feeling about it,” he said. -“Lou has just the feeling they say the Indians had. -To the Indians, the Great Stone Face was an object -of veneration. Did any of you ever read Hawthorne’s -story, ‘The Great Stone Face’?”</p> - -<p>None of the boys ever had.</p> - -<p>“Well, you ought to be ashamed of yourselves,” -said the Scout Master. “I’m going to see if Mr. -Goodwin has the book, and read it to you. How -would you like to take to-morrow off, and climb up -to his forehead, and read the story there, and then -go over to the Crawford House by train, instead of -hiking the twenty-five miles over, on a motor road -full of dust?”</p> - -<p>“Hooray! Me for that!” cried Peanut.</p> - -<p>“Me, too!” cried the rest of the Scouts.</p> - -<p>“Well, we’ll do it, if I can borrow the book,” said -Mr. Rogers. “Now, back to make a camp!”</p> - -<p>At the depot the boys shouldered their packs -again, and Mr. Rogers directed them to go north -up the road till they came to Echo Lake.</p> - -<p>“Leave your packs at the little store,” he said, -“and go down to the boat house and get the man to -take you out in a launch. I’ll get a shave and meet -you there.”</p> - -<p>The Scouts set off up the road, and the Scout -Master went into the hotel. When he had been -shaved, he followed up the road, and as he drew -near Echo Lake, a beautiful little pond at the foot of -a great cliff just north of Eagle Cliff, he heard the -long-drawn note of a bugle floating out over the -water, and echoing back from the cliff. He called -the boys in from the landing.</p> - -<p>“Oh, that’s lovely!” Lou exclaimed. “The -sound just seems to float back, as if somebody was -up on top of the cliff with another bugle, answering -you!”</p> - -<p>They paid the boatman and went back to the -little store, where the boys had already consumed -two sodas apiece, and Peanut had bought two -pounds of candy. From there they went still farther -north up the road, and suddenly plunged down -a path to the left, into a ravine, with a brook at -the bottom, and in among a grove of gigantic hemlocks.</p> - -<p>“There are real trees!” said Mr. Rogers. “They -are relics of the forest primeval. ‘This is the forest -primeval, the murmuring pines and the hemlocks’—and -so forth.”</p> - -<p>“Only there’s no ‘deep-mouthed neighboring -ocean,’” Rob laughed.</p> - -<p>“There’s a brook,” said Lou.</p> - -<p>The hemlocks were indeed giants. They were -three or four feet thick, and rose sixty or eighty feet -without a limb, their tops going on up fifty feet -more.</p> - -<p>In among these superb trees, the boys made camp, -selecting a spot some way from the path, and hidden -by underbrush. They all took a bath in the -cold brook, put on their one change of clean clothes, -washing out their socks and underclothes and hanging -them on twigs around the camp to dry. Then -they carefully combed their hair, dusted their boots, -and tied each others’ neckties neatly. (Peanut’s tie -was badly crumpled, for it had been in his pocket all -day.)</p> - -<p>It was dark in the woods before they were ready, -and it suddenly occurred to them that they’d have -trouble finding the camp again, later in the evening.</p> - -<p>“We might leave the lantern burning—if it would -last,” said Lou.</p> - -<p>“No, some one would see it, going by on the path,” -Art replied. “We don’t want to risk having our -stuff pinched.”</p> - -<p>“I know—tie a white handkerchief to a bush by -the path where we turn off to camp, and then count -the number of steps back to the road,” said Frank.</p> - -<p>“Almost human intelligence,” Rob laughed, -“And take the lantern with us, to find the handkerchief -with.”</p> - -<p>“Right-o!” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>It was time now to start for the dinner party. -They tied the handkerchief to the bushes by the -path, and everybody counted his own steps out to -the road, in case the mark should be lost, or taken -down by some passer-by. Then they moved up the -road, past the gaily lighted Profile House, where -they could see the guests eating in the big dining-room -with its large plate glass windows, and again -rang the bell of Mr. Goodwin’s house—but more -quietly this time.</p> - -<p>A servant ushered them in, and Mr. Goodwin and -his wife and son and daughter at once came forward -to greet them. The house was elaborately furnished -for a summer “cottage,” and the boys were rather -conscious of their scout clothes and especially of their -hobnail boots.</p> - -<p>“Gee,” whispered Art, “keep on the rugs all you -can, or we’ll dig holes in these hardwood floors.”</p> - -<p>“So these are Peanut and Art,” said Mr. Goodwin, -after introductions all around, turning to the -pair who had given the alarm the night before. -“I’m sorry to say, we can’t have dinner till the -sheriff has disposed of you two chaps. He’s waiting -in the library now with a stenographer.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Goodwin led the way into his library, where, -sure enough, the sheriff was sitting.</p> - -<p>“Here are your men,” said the host. “Don’t -keep ’em too long. We’re all hungry.”</p> - -<p>The rest of the party sat near by and listened, while -the sheriff swore in Art and Peanut. First they had -to hold up their right hands and swear to tell the -truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. -Then they gave their names, ages and residence, -while the stenographer’s pencil was busy making -shorthand marks which Peanut, regarding out of the -corner of his eye, thought looked more like hen tracks -than anything else.</p> - -<p>“Now, tell me exactly what happened last night, -from the beginning,” said the sheriff. “I don’t want -to ask you to come way up here from Massachusetts -for the trial, so I’m taking this sworn testimony now. -I think we have evidence enough to make your -actual presence unnecessary.”</p> - -<p>Peanut started in on the story, told of his being -awakened by the sound of the motor stopping in -the road, of waking Art, of their sneaking out -through the bushes, and hearing the two burglars -talk.</p> - -<p>“What did they say, as exactly as you can remember -it?” asked the sheriff.</p> - -<p>Peanut turned red, and glanced toward Mrs. -Goodwin and her daughter. “Have I got to tell -exactly?” he stammered. “We ain’t allowed to -talk that way in the Scouts, even without ladies -present.”</p> - -<p>Everybody laughed, and the officer with them.</p> - -<p>“You can put in blanks,” he answered.</p> - -<p>Peanut, with Art’s help, and also Rob’s, who came -upon the scene at this point, as the reader will remember, -and also with the aid of many “blanks,” -reconstructed the conversation as well as he could. -Then Art took up the narrative, and described the -ride up the valley, the cutting of the tires, the pulling -out of the wire in the engine (which the burglars -had put back again), and the subsequent arousing of -the neighborhood.</p> - -<p>“Well, that’s some story!” said the sheriff, with -admiration. “That’s what I call quick action, and -brave action. One thing you didn’t do you might -have—you might have cut out a piece of that wire -so they couldn’t have put it back. But if you had, -they wouldn’t have tried to get away in the car, but -would have taken to the mountain, and perhaps -escaped, so it’s just as well.”</p> - -<p>He shook hands heartily with Art and Peanut, -and then with the rest of the boys, and departed.</p> - -<p>“Now for dinner!” cried Mr. Goodwin.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Goodwin led the way to the dining-room, -while her husband explained to the boys as they -went along that all the wedding presents had been -shipped back to a New York vault, under guard -that day, to avoid the chance of another scare.</p> - -<p>They took their places at the big table, which was -gay with candles, Art and Peanut having places of -honor beside Mrs. Goodwin and her daughter. -There were great, snowy napkins to spread on their -laps, and there was iced grape fruit to begin on, and -soup, and roast beef, and all sorts of good things, -ending up with ice-cream. As it was after seven -thirty before they sat down, and the boys had eaten -nothing but emergency rations at noon, you may be -sure that nobody refused a second helping of anything, -just to be polite. In fact, Mrs. Goodwin saw -to it that everything came around twice.</p> - -<p>“My, nobody has eaten like this in my house for -a long time!” she said, “and a housekeeper does -like to see her food enjoyed. John”—this to her -husband—“why don’t you climb Lafayette every -day, so you can get up a real appetite?”</p> - -<p>“I wouldn’t, alas!” he laughed. “I’d just get -lame legs and a headache. Lafayette’s for the -young folks. Have some more ice-cream, Peanut?”</p> - -<p>“Gee, I’d like to—but I’m full,” said Peanut, so -honestly that everybody roared.</p> - -<p>“I don’t suppose you carry an ice-cream freezer -in your packs, do you?” Mrs. Goodwin laughed.</p> - -<p>“We don’t,” said Rob, “nor grape fruit nor napkins, -either. I’m afraid this luxury will spoil us for -camp to-morrow!”</p> - -<p>“Do you know,” Mr. Goodwin said, “I’m tired of -luxury, myself. If I was twenty years younger, I’d -get a blanket out and go with you boys for the next -few days, and eat bacon and flapjacks out of tin -plates, and have the time of my life.”</p> - -<p>“Come on!” the Scouts cried.</p> - -<p>And Peanut added, “You ain’t old. Why, -Edward Payson Weston’s lots older than you -are!”</p> - -<p>“And he walked from San Francisco to New York -didn’t he?” Mr. Goodwin laughed. “Well, I guess -his legs are younger than mine. Where do you go -to-morrow, by the way?”</p> - -<p>This reminded Mr. Rogers of the book, so he -asked if he could lend him a copy of Hawthorne’s -“Twice Told Tales.”</p> - -<p>“If you can,” he said, “we are going up Cannon -to-morrow morning and read ‘The Great Stone -Face,’ and then go over to the Crawford House -on the train, to be ready for the Bridle Path the -next day.”</p> - -<p>“Have we got it—the book?” Mr. Goodwin asked -his wife.</p> - -<p>She shook her head, but the daughter spoke—“The -Andersons have a copy, I know. I’ll run -over and get it after dinner.”</p> - -<p>“Fine—and as to that train—nothing doing,” -said Mr. Goodwin. “You’ll all get in my touring -car after lunch, and the driver’ll take you over to -Crawford’s, and show you some sights on the way. -I’ll tell him to take you through Bethlehem first. -Now, don’t say no! I want to do that much for -you.”</p> - -<p>The Scouts thanked him, and agreed to be ready -at two o’clock, on the next day, for the start. They -rose from dinner now, and strolled out-of-doors. -There was music at the Profile House.</p> - -<p>The entire party loitered along the board walk in -front of the cottages, with the great, dark wall of -Lafayette going up against the stars directly across -the road, and sat on the Profile House veranda a -while, listening to the music within. Dancers came -out and walked back and forth in front of them between -dances—men in evening clothes, girls in low-necked -white dresses. It was very gay. But how -sleepy the Scouts were becoming! Mr. Rogers saw -it, and whispered to their hostess. They walked -back to the house, got the book, said good-night, -and once more tramped down the road.</p> - -<p>“Gee, it’s ten o’clock,” said Art. “Awful dissipated, -we are.”</p> - -<p>Peanut yawned. “Bet I’ll hate to get up to-morrow. -Wow, some class to that dinner, though! -Ain’t you glad we were heroes, boys?”</p> - -<p>Lou was lighting his lantern. “I’m glad you -picked out Mr. Goodwin to warn,” he laughed.</p> - -<p>They were alongside of Echo Lake now. “If I -wasn’t so sleepy, I’d like to go down there and make -an echo now, in the night,” said Lou. “It would be -kind of wild and unearthly.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, and easy to do, seeing’s we have no bugle -and no boat,” said Frank. “Me for bed.”</p> - -<p>They now turned in from the road, and followed -the path, each one counting his steps. But, as the -path was down-hill, and they had counted first when -going up-hill, everybody was still many paces shy -when Lou, who was leading with the lantern, suddenly -spied the handkerchief, still tied to a bush. -They turned into the underbrush, and after considerable -stumbling in the dark, amid the undergrowth -and the gigantic hemlock trunks, the lantern light -fell on a shimmer of white—one of the shirts hung -up to dry—and they found their camp. It wasn’t -five minutes later when the camp was once more -dark and silent.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">On the Forehead of the Old Man of the -Mountain</p> - -<p>The camp next morning was still asleep at daybreak, -and for the first time, almost, in the -history of the Southmead Scouts Art was not the -first to wake. He and Peanut were both asleep -when the rest sat up and rubbed their eyes, and it -was not till Rob rattled a pan and Lou began to -chop wood that the two boys aroused.</p> - -<p>“Because you’re heroes is no reason you should be -lazy,” Rob laughed.</p> - -<p>Peanut propped himself up on his elbow, and regarded -the scene. The sun had not yet risen high -enough to look in over the northern shoulders of -Lafayette, and it was still dim among the great hemlocks. -Some forest birds were singing sweetly, a -hermit thrush far off sounding like a fairy clarion. -The brook could be heard running close by. The -woods smelled fresh and fragrant.</p> - -<p>“I don’t believe I’ll get up at all,” Peanut announced. -“Rather like it here. Gee, but I slept -hard last night! Bet I made a dent in the ground.”</p> - -<p>“Won’t get up at all, eh?” Rob remarked, setting -down the coffee-pot. “We need more wood. Out -with you!”</p> - -<p>He took hold of Peanut’s blanket, and rolled the -occupant out upon the bare ground.</p> - -<p>Peanut picked himself up sleepily, and hunted his -tooth-brush out of his pack. “Oh, very well!” he -said, starting down to the brook for his morning -wash. “Only it would be nice one day just to lie -around in camp, and do nothing.”</p> - -<p>“We’ll do just that, when we get to the Great Gulf, -or Tuckerman’s Ravine, perhaps,” said Mr. Rogers. -“But not to-day. Besides, we’re going to get a -motor ride this afternoon.”</p> - -<p>It was after seven o’clock before camp was struck. -They left everything packed and ready to put aboard -the motor after lunch, and armed only with a small -package of raisins apiece, which Mr. Rogers had -mysteriously produced from his pack, and the last of -the sweet chocolate, and with their staffs and canteens, -and the book, they set off.</p> - -<p>“Seems good to be going light,” somebody remarked.</p> - -<p>“It does that,” said Art. “Let’s whoop it up this -morning. By the way, we haven’t cut our mileage -for two days.”</p> - -<p>“We can do it at lunch,” said Peanut. “Won’t -take us long to eat what we’ve got. That’s a lead -pipe. Say, Mr. Rogers, did you have those raisins -yesterday?”</p> - -<p>“You’ll never know!” the Scout Master laughed.</p> - -<p>The path up Cannon Mountain (which, by the way, -is called Cannon Mountain because a rock on what -looks like the summit from the Profile House resembles -a cannon) started in near the hotel, and lost -no time about ascending. It began to go up with -the first step, in fact, through an evergreen forest, -and it never stopped going up till it emerged from -the evergreens upon bare rock, two miles away, directly -across the Notch from the point on Lafayette -where the path reaches the end of Eagle Cliff.</p> - -<p>“Looks as if you could almost throw a stone -across,” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>The boys now saw that the real summit of Cannon -was a mile away to the west, and instead of looking -down, as they had expected to do, upon the top of -Bridal Veil falls on the west side, where their real -mountain trip had begun, they were a long distance -from the falls. The Old Man lay to the south of -them, and it was toward him they made their way, -standing presently on top of the precipice above his -massive forehead, and looking southward through -the Notch. What a view it was! The ground below -their feet fell sheer away out of sight, fifteen -hundred feet to the valley below. To the right was -the great wall of Kinsman, to the left the bare -scarred ridges of Lafayette, Lincoln, Haystack and -Liberty, along which they had plodded the day before. -In the green Notch between they could see -the white road and the little Pemigewassett River -flashing through the trees, on their way to the Flume -House, and far off, where the Notch opened out into -the sunny distances, the town of North Woodstock. -Beyond the opening, the boys could see the far blue -mountains to the south.</p> - -<p>“That’s what the Old Man of the Mountain is forever -looking at, boys,” said Mr. Rogers. “Not a -bad view, eh?”</p> - -<p>“It’s wonderful!” said Lou.</p> - -<p>The Scouts now lay down on the rocks, and Mr. -Rogers opened the book to the story of “The Great -Stone Face.”</p> - -<p>“This story,” he began, “was written in Berkshire -County, pretty close to our home—in Lenox, in a -little red house at the head of Stockbridge Bowl, in -the summer of 1851, when Hawthorne was living -there. It isn’t exactly about this particular Old Man -of the Mountain, as you will see from the description. -It’s really about a sort of ideal great stone -face. But of course it was suggested to Hawthorne -by this one.”</p> - -<p>Then he read the story aloud. I wish all my -readers, before they go any further in this book, -would get Hawthorne’s “Twice Told Tales,” and -read it, too, right now. If you’ve read it before, -read it again. And try to imagine, as you read it, -that Rob and Lou and Frank and Art and Peanut -were listening to it, not in school, not in a house, -but sitting fifteen hundred feet above the Notch, almost -on the forehead of the Great Stone Face itself, -and looking off at exactly the same view he looks -at, fifty miles into the blue distance.</p> - -<p>When Mr. Rogers had finished the story, none -of the boys spoke for a minute. Then Peanut -said, his brows contracted, “I’m not sure I quite -get it.”</p> - -<p>Lou was gazing off thoughtfully down the valley.</p> - -<p>“I think it means that Ernest was the man who -fulfilled the prophecy and grew to look like the -Great Stone Face because he didn’t try to become -rich, or a great fighter, or a politician, or even a poet -looking for fame, but just tried to live as good a life -as he could. He was a kind of <i>still</i> man, and it -makes you want to be still and just sit and <i>think</i>, to -look out over the world the way the Great Stone -Face does.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Rogers nodded his head in approval. -“You’ve got the idea, Lou,” he said. “I want all -of you to get something of it, too. There is a lot to -be learned from mountains as well as fun to be had -climbing them. I don’t believe any of you realized -that to-day is Sunday, did you?”</p> - -<p>“Gee, I hadn’t!” cried Peanut “Tramping this -way, you lose track of time.”</p> - -<p>“Neither had I,” said the rest.</p> - -<p>“Well, it is,” Mr. Rogers laughed. “And this is -our way of going to church. You remember what -the Bible says about the mountains? ‘I will lift up -mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my -help. My help cometh even from the Lord.’ You -see, long, long ago, men felt about the mountains as -we do now—that there was something big and -eternal about them; and just as the Pemigewassett -Indians thought that the Great Spirit lived on -Moosilauke, and perhaps worshipped the Great Stone -Face here, so the men in Bible days thought of the -hills as the symbol of God’s dwelling place. Then -later, in our own time, we find Ernest in the story -refusing to judge men by worldly standards, but -judging them by whether they resemble the Great -Stone Face—that is, judging them by whether they -were calm, and sweet, and good, like the mountains, -and the forests, and the still places.</p> - -<p>“As Lou says, Ernest was a <i>still</i> man—that is, he -wasn’t bustling around making war or making -money. When you come to think about it, the still -men are the greatest. The greatest man who ever -lived was Jesus Christ and He changed all history -by the Sermon on the Mount; not by making wars -like Napoleon, but by new ideas which He had -thought out, and by teaching love of your fellow -men. Darwin, experimenting with plants and fishes -and animals and bugs, reached the theory of evolution, -which made the nineteenth century so wonderful. -He was a still man. He didn’t fight nor make -money nor shout at the crowds, yet he altered the -whole conception of science and religion and human -thought. Ernest in the story just stayed down there -in his own valley, under the shadow of the mountain, -and did his daily work quietly, and loved his -neighbors, and preached wise words to them, and -made his corner of the world a little better and happier—and -suddenly it was <i>he</i> who resembled the -Great Stone Face.</p> - -<p>“Look out, boys, over the Notch, and see what -the Old Man sees. Doesn’t it make all our little -human rows and rights and ambitions seem small -and petty? The Old Man will still be looking when -you and I are dead and forgotten. While we are -here, however, let’s try to be a bit like him, worthy -of this view, and not talk too much unless we have -something to say, and be charitable with all our -neighbors, and just try to remember that no matter -if lessons in school don’t go right, or we are licked -in baseball, Lafayette and Cannon and Kinsman are -still here, the Old Man is still looking down the valley. -Let’s lift up our eyes unto the hills, and get -strength. Next winter, if you feel like being cross -to your mother some morning, or doing a mean -thing to somebody who’s done a mean thing to you, -just remember this view, just say to yourself, ‘The -Great Stone Face is looking calmly down the -valley, and expects me to be calm, too, and generous, -and kind, because those things are what -really make men great.’ Will you try to remember, -boys?”</p> - -<p>“Sure!” cried Peanut.</p> - -<p>“I can never forget this view,” said Lou.</p> - -<p>“Whenever I get sore or cross, I always go out in -the woods,” said Art.</p> - -<p>“Say,” Peanut added, “I <i>like</i> to go to church this -way!”</p> - -<p>The rest laughed; and “church” was over for the -morning. The boys now munched their raisins, and -cut their last two days’ mileage on their staffs. From -the camp on Moosilauke to Lost River was four -miles, through the river one, back to the store for -the packs, two more, to North Woodstock five, and -up to the camp by the Flume House six. That made -eighteen miles, and Art and Peanut added another -mile on their staffs for their walking during the pursuit -of the burglars. The mileage for the next day, -according to Art’s pedometer, showed nine miles from -camp to the Pool and then to the top of Lafayette, -and five miles down the mountain and to the base -camp. Then there were two more miles of walking -about to Mr. Goodwin’s house, Echo Lake, the -Profile, and so on—a total of sixteen.</p> - -<p>The boys washed down their frugal meal of raisins -and chocolate with all the water from the canteens -(“Gee,” said Frank, “it beats all how much you -drink on mountains. I suppose it’s due to the rapid -evaporation.”) and shortly before one began the -descent. It was made in quick time. With no packs -to bother them, the Scouts could vault on their poles, -and they came down the two miles in seventeen minutes. -They were hot and panting at the base, and -surprised at their own record.</p> - -<p>“Takes you in the front of your legs, and in behind -your knees,” said Frank. “I suppose that’s -because we don’t develop those holding-in muscles -on the level.”</p> - -<p>“Well, we’ll develop ’em before we get home, I -guess,” said Peanut, rubbing his shins.</p> - -<p>They now went to the Goodwins’ house to pay -their party call, and say good-bye, and then returned -to camp to wait for the motor. They had all their -stuff out beside the road when the car, a big, seven -passenger touring car, came along, and in they piled. -They drew lots for the front seat, and Peanut won. -The other five got into the tonneau, and with a -shout, the car started up—or rather down the road, -for they were on the top of a hill.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">The Crawford Notch</p> - -<p>The road kept on going down, too, through the -woods. The driver told them that this was -Three Mile Hill, and nobody disputed him. It was -certainly three miles. All the cars they met coming -up were on the lowest speed, and chugging hard. -At the bottom, they came into the little village of -Franconia, and behind them they could see the -mountains they had been climbing, piled up against -the sky.</p> - -<p>“How about grub?” Art suddenly exclaimed. -“We’ve got to stock up before we start to-morrow. -In fact, we haven’t enough for supper to-night—and -it’s Sunday.”</p> - -<p>Nobody had thought of that, but Mr. Goodwin’s -chauffeur was equal to the emergency. He drove to -the storekeeper’s house, who opened the store, and -sold them what they needed.</p> - -<p>“Suppose I’m breaking the law,” he said, “but <i>I -</i>shouldn’t want to see you fellers go hungry!”</p> - -<p>Then they got in the car again, turned eastward, -climbed a hill past the Forest Hill Hotel, and spun -along the Gale River road toward Bethlehem, a -pretty road through the woods, beside the rushing -Gale River. After a few miles, the road climbed a -long hill, away from the river, and suddenly, at the -top of the hill, they looked out across the valley to -the whole panorama of the White Mountains. To -the right, a little behind them, rose Cannon and -Lafayette. Directly south was the sharp cone of -Garfield, then the two tall Twins, then, still far to the -east, but nearer than they had yet seen them, the -blue Presidentials, with Washington clear of cloud, -and the Summit House showing.</p> - -<p>“Some sight!” exclaimed Peanut.</p> - -<p>They now came speedily into Bethlehem, a town -high upon a hill, with many hotels and many stores -and summer houses, along a single street, a street a -mile long, with golf links at one side of the road, -and many people in gay summer clothes walking up -and down. The chauffeur drove the length of the -street and back (stopping, at Peanut’s demand, to -get sodas at a drug store) and then turned the car -eastward once more, toward Mount Washington.</p> - -<p>The going was good, and the driver “let in the -juice,” as Peanut expressed it. They rushed along -at thirty miles an hour, with Mount Washington getting -closer every moment.</p> - -<p>The Scouts took off their hats, and the warm wind -blew through their hair.</p> - -<p>“Pretty fast walking we’re doing to-day!” cried -Peanut.</p> - -<p>In less than an hour, in fact, they had swung with -the bend of the rushing Ammonoosuc River into a -considerable level plain, and found themselves in the -midst of a settlement. There were two or three railroad -tracks, cottages, a small hotel, then a big hotel—the -Fabyan House, and a junction railroad station, -and then, still closer to the great wall of the Presidential -range, which now loomed up directly in front -of them, the Mount Pleasant House, and half a mile -to the left, across a beautiful green golf course, the -huge bulk of the Mount Washington Hotel.</p> - -<p>“Golly, that hotel is as big as Mount Washington -itself,” said Art.</p> - -<p>The chauffeur laughed. “Yes, and the prices are -as high,” he said.</p> - -<p>They now passed along the road, between the two -hotels, headed south, and then began to go up-hill, -leaving the Presidential range more and more on -their left. Soon they lost sight of Washington, with -the curving line of the railroad up its flank. After -two miles, they lost sight of all the range. On their -left was only a high, wooded slope. On their right -was the same. In front of them a white hotel and -railroad station suddenly appeared, and in front of -that was only a narrow defile between the two hills, -just big enough to let the road and railway through.</p> - -<p>“The Crawford House!” said Mr. Rogers. “And -ahead is the gateway to the Crawford Notch. All -out!”</p> - -<p>They got out of the motor beside the hotel, and -thanked the chauffeur for their trip. They had come -twenty-seven miles farther on their way since two -o’clock, and it was not yet four!</p> - -<p>“Now,” said Mr. Rogers, when the car had turned -back home, “the Crawford Bridle Path starts right -here in these woods across from the hotel. That’s -it, there. I move we tote our stuff up it far enough -to make camp, and then take a walk down into the -Notch.”</p> - -<p>“Second the motion,” said Frank.</p> - -<p>Picking up their burdens, the boys walked a quarter -of a mile eastward, by a beaten path that ascended -at a comfortable angle, not far from a brook. Presently -they found a pool in the brook, hid their stuff -in the bushes fifty feet from the path, and hurried -back to the Crawford House.</p> - -<p>Just below the hotel and the railroad station was a -small pond.</p> - -<p>“That pond,” the Scout Master said, “is the head -waters of the Saco River. We are on a divide. -Behind the hotel, the springs flow north into the -Ammonoosuc, and thence into the Connecticut. -They empty, finally, you see, into Long Island -Sound. The water of this lake empties into the -Atlantic north of Portland, Maine. Yet they start -within two hundred yards of each other.”</p> - -<p>Just south of the little pond, the boys noticed a -bare, rocky cliff, perhaps a hundred feet high, rising -sharp from the left side of the road. The top was -rounded off.</p> - -<p>“Look!” said Lou. “That cliff is just like an -elephant’s head, with his trunk coming down to the -road!”</p> - -<p>Mr. Rogers laughed. “They call it the Elephant’s -Head,” he said. “You’re not the first to discover -the resemblance.”</p> - -<p>When they had passed the Elephant’s Head, they -saw that the gate of the Notch was, in reality, not -wide enough to admit both the carriage road and -the railroad. The railroad, on their right, entered -through a gap blasted in the solid rock. A few steps -more, and they were in the gate themselves, and the -wonderful panorama burst upon them.</p> - -<p>They saw that the railroad kept along the west -bank of the Notch, high above the bottom, but the -carriage road plunged directly down, beside the -Saco River (at this point but a tiny brook). On the -west side of the Notch Mount Willard rose beside -them, and south of that Mount Willey shot up almost -precipitously, the latter being over four thousand feet -high. On the east side was the huge rampart of -Mount Webster, also four thousand feet high, and -nearly as steep, with the long white scars of landslides -down its face.</p> - -<p>“Well!” said Peanut, “the Franconia Notch was -some place, but this one has got it skun a mile. -Gee! Looks as if the mountains were going to -tumble over on top of you!”</p> - -<p>“They did once, on top of the Willey family,” -said Mr. Rogers. “Come on, we’ll walk down till -we can see how it happened.”</p> - -<p>The road plunged rapidly down-hill, into the forest -at the bottom of the Notch. They met one or two -motors chugging up, and having a hard time of it. -In one case, everybody but the driver was walking, -to lighten the load.</p> - -<p>“I came down this hill on a bicycle once—only -once,” said the Scout Master. “It was back in 1896, -when everybody was riding bicycles. I was trying -to coast through the Notch. Somewhere on this -hill I ran into a big loose stone, head on, and the -bicycle stopped. I didn’t, though. The man with -me couldn’t stop his wheel for nearly a quarter of a -mile. Finally he came back and picked me up, and -took me back to the Crawford House, where they -bandaged up my head and knee. Somebody brought -the wheel back on a cart.”</p> - -<p>“Say, it would make some coast on a bob-sled, -though!” cried Peanut. “Wouldn’t be any rocks -to dodge then.”</p> - -<p>“And there’d only be about ten feet of snow in -here to break out, I reckon,” Art answered.</p> - -<p>“Nearer thirty,” said Mr. Rogers.</p> - -<p>Over two miles below the Crawford House they -came to the site of the old Willey House, and saw -through the trees to the west the towering wall of -Mount Willey, scarred still by the great landslide, -seeming to hang over them.</p> - -<p>“There’s where she started,” said Mr. Rogers, -pointing to the top of the mountain. “It was back -in late August, in 1826, that the slide came. There -had been a drought, making the thin soil on the -mountain very dry. Then came a terrific storm, a -regular cloudburst, and the water went through the -soil and began running down on the rocks underneath. -That started the soil and the trees on it -sliding, and they gathered headway and more soil -and debris and rocks as they came, the way a snowball -gathers more snow, and presently a whole strip -of the wall was thundering down.</p> - -<p>“There had been a smaller slide in June, which -had terrified the family, and Willey had built a sort -of slide-proof shelter down the road, in case another -came. It wasn’t so far away that the family didn’t -have time to get to it, if they started when they heard -the slide first coming, and nobody has ever been -able to explain why none of them got there. James -Willey, a brother of the dead man, however, always -said that his brother’s spirit came to him in a dream, -and told him that the terrible rain, which had caused -a rise of twenty-four feet in the Saco, made them fearful -of being drowned, and when the water reached -their door-sill, they fled not to the shelter hut, but -higher up the slope. Then, when the slide came, -they were too far away from the hut to escape. -They had evidently been reading the Bible just before -they fled, for it was found open in the house.”</p> - -<p>“In the house?” cried Peanut. “Didn’t the -house get swept away?”</p> - -<p>“No, that’s the oddest and saddest part of the -story. The slide split on a great boulder or ledge -behind the house, and if they’d stayed in it, not a -soul would have perished. As it was, Mr. and Mrs. -Willey, five children, and two hired men were all -killed. Three bodies were never found. Only the dog -escaped. He appeared at a house far down the road, -the next day, moaning and howling. He was seen -running back and forth for a few hours, and then he -disappeared and was never seen again. It was two -or three days before the floods went down enough to -allow rescue parties to get up the Notch, however.”</p> - -<p>“Let’s go see the rock that split the slide,” said -Lou.</p> - -<p>Mr. Rogers led the way behind the site of the old -house, and showed them the top of the rock, above -the ground.</p> - -<p>“This boulder was thirty feet high in 1826,” he -said. “The landslide, as you see, nearly buried it; -but it split the stream, and the debris all rushed in -two currents on either side of the house, uniting -again in the meadow in front. The house stood for -many years after that. I think it was destroyed -finally by fire.”</p> - -<p>“But what gets me is, why should anybody want -to live in such a lonesome spot, anyhow?” said -Peanut. “Gee, it’s getting dark down here already.”</p> - -<p>“Well, there was no railroad in those days,” Mr. -Rogers answered, “and the road through the Notch -was the main artery of travel to the northern side of -the mountains. I suppose the Willey House made -a good stopping place for the night. Let’s go up to -the railroad now, and get a look at the engineering -job, which was a big thing in its day—and is still, for -that matter.”</p> - -<p>They climbed some distance through birch trees -up the steep western wall of the Notch before reaching -the railroad. Once upon it, they saw the great -gap in the hills to far better advantage, however, -than from the road below. Willey shot up directly -over their heads, as steep a long climb, probably, as -there is anywhere east of the Rocky Mountains. -The Scouts came very near deciding to give up a -day from Washington, and tackle it. Directly -across the Notch they could see the whole long, -beetling brow of Webster.</p> - -<p>“It kind of looks like the pictures of Daniel,” said -Peanut. “Stern and frowning.”</p> - -<p>“And the slides are the furrows in his forehead,” -laughed Rob.</p> - -<p>But it was looking north that the view was most -impressive. The railroad hung dizzily on the side -wall, with the rocks apparently tumbling upon it from -the left, and it about to tumble down the rocks to the -right. It curved eastward a mile or two ahead, and -at the bend, facing down the Notch, was the precipitous -southern wall of Mount Willard, almost a sheer -rock cliff a thousand feet high. As the party walked -up the track, the cliff grew nearer and nearer, and as -the daylight faded in this deep ravine, it seemed -more and more not to be straight up, but to -be hanging forward, as if ready to fall on top of -them.</p> - -<p>“I’d hate to be in here during a thunder-storm,” -said Lou. “It’s—it’s kind of terrible!”</p> - -<p>They came through the gate of the Notch at six -o’clock, and there was the Crawford House in daylight, -and above it, on the slope of Clinton, were the -rays of the sun!</p> - -<p>“Good little old sun,” said Peanut. “Wow! I’d -hate to live where it set every day at four o’clock.”</p> - -<p>They now hurried up the Bridle Path to their -camp, and Peanut tied the flag to a tree, in honor of -the first camp on the Washington trail, while the -others began preparations for supper or cut boughs -for the night.</p> - -<p>When the supper dishes were cleared away, they -heard a faint sound of music coming up to them -from below. Peanut pricked up his ears.</p> - -<p>“Concert at the Crawford House!” he said. -“Let’s go down and hear it.”</p> - -<p>“It sounds pretty nice right here,” said Mr. -Rogers.</p> - -<p>“Aw, come on!” Peanut urged. “We can get -post-cards there, too, I guess. Art wants to send -one to his Pinkie.”</p> - -<p>“Shut up!” said Art. “What you really mean is -that you want to get some candy.”</p> - -<p>“No, I don’t. I got some left from this afternoon.”</p> - -<p>“You have!” said Frank. “You old tightwad! -Why don’t you pass it around?”</p> - -<p>“’Cause I sat on it by mistake,” Peanut answered. -“Come on down to the hotel.”</p> - -<p>“Maybe we’d better,” Rob put in. “We can all -send a card home to our folks.”</p> - -<p>“Not forgetting Pinkie,” said Peanut to Art, as he -ducked down the path, stumbling in the dark.</p> - -<p>Lou took the lantern, and tied his handkerchief -to a bough over the entrance to the camp. The -rest waited till this was done, and followed behind -him. They didn’t catch Peanut till the very -bottom.</p> - -<p>“That was easy,” he said. “I’m like the old -geezer on Moosilauke—got a sixth sense in the soles -of my feet. Besides, if you get off the path, you -bump into a tree, which knocks you back in.”</p> - -<p>The brightly lighted windows of the Crawford -House were open, and the sound of the orchestra -was floating out. Many people were walking up -and down on the veranda. They were all dressed -elaborately, many of the men in evening clothes. -The little party of five boys and a man, in flannel -shirts and khaki, attracted much attention as they -entered the lobby of the hotel.</p> - -<p>“Gee,” Art whispered, “think of coming to the -mountains for a vacation, and having to doll all up -in your best rags! That’s not my idea of fun.”</p> - -<p>“It’s my idea of the ultimate zero in sport,” -laughed Rob.</p> - -<p>Peanut had at once found the post-card stand, -and was offering Art a “pretty picture for Pinkie” -as the latter came up.</p> - -<p>“All right!” Art laughed. “I’ll send it!”</p> - -<p>But he wouldn’t let anybody else see what he -wrote.</p> - -<p>The others all sent cards home, and, not to be -outdone by Art, they sent cards also to the girls -they had met in Lost River. Peanut found a -picture of the top of Mount Washington to send -to Alice, and he carefully drew a picture of himself -upon the topmost rock, like this:</p> - -<div class="figcenter illowp100" id="man-flag" style="max-width: 30em;"> - <img class="w100" src="images/man-flag.jpg" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>On the other side he wrote, “The persevering -Peanut on the Peak.”</p> - -<p>“Guess that’s some alliteration!” he said. “Mr. -Rogers, what painter’s name began with P?”</p> - -<p>“Perugino,” said the Scout Master.</p> - -<p>“Do you mind spelling it—slowly?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Rogers spelled it, and Peanut added on the -card—“Painted by Perugino.”</p> - -<p>“Guess that’ll hold her royal highness for a -while!” he laughed.</p> - -<p>Then he bought a stamp, and triumphantly -dropped the post-card in the letter box.</p> - -<p>The boys sat on the veranda for a while, listening -to the music, until Rob and Mr. Rogers noticed that -Art’s eyes were closed, and Peanut’s head bobbed -down upon his chest every few minutes, and Frank -and Lou were yawning.</p> - -<p>“Bunk!” said Rob.</p> - -<p>Lou relit the lantern, and they climbed back up -the path to camp.</p> - -<p>“We are on the way up Washington at last,” said -the Scout Master as they were rolling up in their -blankets. “At this time to-morrow, we’ll be asleep -on the highest point east of the Rockies, and north -of Virginia.”</p> - -<p>“Hooray,” said Peanut. “Let Per—Per—Perugino -know, please.”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">A Fight with the Storm on the Crawford -Bridle Path</p> - -<p>The morning dawned cold, with a north wind, -and the Scouts woke up shivering. As they -were in the woods on the west slope of a mountain, -it would be some time before they could see the sun, -but so far as they could get a glimpse through the -trees to the west and north, the day promised well -for the ascent of Washington.</p> - -<p>“Looks clear,” said Art. “I wonder if old Washington -has got a cloud cap on?”</p> - -<p>“We’ll know before very long,” said the Scout -Master. “Even if it has, I don’t think we’ve got -much kick coming. Here we’ve been out in the -open since the night before the Fourth, and not a -bad day yet.”</p> - -<p>“Right-o!” said Peanut. “Weather man must -have known we were up here.”</p> - -<p>The party ate a good breakfast, chiefly of fresh -eggs, which Lou ran down to the Crawford House -and bought while the fire was being made. Then -the packs were carefully packed, the blanket rolls -firmly strapped, compasses examined and stowed in -the pockets, and the party was ready for the ascent. -They moved rather slowly into the path, and turned -upward, for the loads were heavy. They were -carrying enough provisions for four days, the evaporated -vegetables and powdered milk and eggs having -been largely saved for this final trip over the -bare Presidentials, where they would be far from any -sources of fresh supply, and their weight increased -by flour, a little butter, some coffee, bacon, potted -ham and sweet chocolate purchased the day before -in Franconia.</p> - -<p>“I feel like a packhorse,” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>“Don’t you mean a donkey?” Art laughed.</p> - -<p>“Speaking of horses,” said Mr. Rogers, as they -plodded up the trail through the woods, “this Crawford -Bridle Path was made originally for horses, little -burros I suppose they were, and folks even when I -was a boy used to go up on their backs. I suppose -the cog railroad put that form of transportation -gradually out of business. Now nobody goes up this -way except on Shanks’ mare.”</p> - -<p>“When was this path made?” asked Frank.</p> - -<p>“It was the first path cut on the Presidential -range,” Mr. Rogers replied. “Abel Crawford -opened it in 1819, as far as the summit of Clinton—three -miles from the Crawford House. It’s another -five and a half or six to the top of Washington, -however, and it wasn’t till about 1840, I believe, that -one of Abel’s sons converted it into a bridle path and -carried it on to Washington. You see, by that time, -people had begun to visit the mountains for their -vacations in large numbers.”</p> - -<p>“So the part we are on is nearly a hundred years -old!” Lou exclaimed.</p> - -<p>They plodded steadily upward, by a fairly steep -grade, though not a difficult one. The rising sun -was now striking down into the spruce and hemlock -woods about them, but they noted that it was rather -a hazy sun.</p> - -<p>“I bet there’s a cloud on Washington,” Art -muttered.</p> - -<p>“What’ll we do if there is? Can we climb in -it?” Frank asked.</p> - -<p>“That all depends,” the Scout Master replied, -“upon how bad a cloud it is. If we get into a -storm up there, a real storm, we’ll beat it back, you -bet! I haven’t told you, I guess, that as late as -1900 two men lost their lives on this path in a snow-storm -on the 30th of June—that’s hardly more than -a week earlier than to-day. Down here it’s midsummer, -but up there on the five thousand or six -thousand foot level it’s still early spring.”</p> - -<p>“Golly!” said Peanut, in such a heartfelt manner -that the rest laughed—though they laughed rather -soberly.</p> - -<p>“I ought to add,” the Scout Master went on, -“that W. B. Curtis and his companion, Allen -Ormsby, the two men who died, would not have perished, -probably, if they had turned back when they -first saw threats of bad weather, as they were warned -to do, instead of trying to keep on, or even if there -had been a shelter hut, as there is now, on the long, -bare, wind-swept col between Monroe and the summit -cone of Washington. They tried to build a shelter -under Monroe, and then left that to press on to the -summit. Curtis didn’t quite get to the site of the -present hut, but doubtless he would have if the hope -of it had been there to spur him on. As it was, he -evidently fell and injured himself, and Ormsby died -some distance up the final cone, struggling in a mad -attempt to get to the top and find aid for Curtis. -He had fifty bruises on his body where the wind had -blown him against the rocks. Curtis was thinly -clad, and he was sixty years old. Two guides, descending, -who met them on Pleasant, had warned -them not to go on—that there was snow and terrible -wind above; but they evidently didn’t realize at all -what they were in for.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, well, we’ve got blankets, and you know the -way,” cried Peanut. “What do we care? Guess -we’ll ride out anything that can hit us in July!”</p> - -<p>The conversation was suddenly interrupted by a -sharp “S-sh!” from Art, who was leading. The -rest stopped short, and looked up the path in the -direction of his pointing finger.</p> - -<p>There, right in the path fifty feet ahead, pecking -away at the mould exactly like a hen in the barnyard, -was a big brown partridge! The Scouts stole -softly toward it, expecting every moment to see it -rise and go whirring off through the woods. It did -stop feeding, raised its head to look at them, and then -hopped up the bank beside the path and began -scratching again.</p> - -<p>“Good gracious, is it a tame partridge?” Art -whispered in astonishment.</p> - -<p>But his astonishment was still greater when, a moment -later, the whole party stood in the path not six -feet from the bird, and saw that it was one of a small -covey of six. Four of them were feeding on the -ground, and making soft, pretty <i>coots</i>, like hens on a -hot summer day. Two were perched lazily on the -low branch of a hemlock. They paid no attention -to the Scouts.</p> - -<p>“Gee!” said Frank, “you could knock ’em over -with a stick! Let’s have partridge for dinner.”</p> - -<p>“Nix!” said Art. “It’s out of season. Besides, -I wouldn’t kill anything so tame. I guess they’re -not hunted much here. I never saw ’em tame like -this before in my life. Down home they’d have been -a mile away by now.”</p> - -<p>The birds looked up at the sound of his voice, and -moved a few feet farther off. Then they began feeding -again, the hens following the cock in a sort of -procession.</p> - -<p>“They certainly are pretty,” Rob said. “I didn’t -know a partridge was so pretty. Take a picture of -’em, Frank.”</p> - -<p>“Not sun enough in under those trees,” Frank -sighed. “I wish I could.”</p> - -<p>The boys were reluctant to leave the partridges, -but the day was mounting, and they pressed on.</p> - -<p>The trees were growing more and more stunted, -and rocks began to appear in the trail. Now and -then there was a break to the north, and they could -see far below to the broad green intervale of Bretton -Woods. In another half hour, the forest had shrunk -to dwarf shrubs, and they emerged above timber -line almost upon the top of Clinton. The summit, -however, lay a few hundred feet to the south of -them, and shut out the view in that direction. -Northward, they could see for a long distance. -Westward, too, they looked back at the first mountains -toward Franconia. Ahead of them, they saw -only a great, bare, rocky ridge rising gradually to -the dome of Mount Pleasant, and to the left of this, -northeastward, the sloping shoulders of the mountains -beyond, falling away to the valley far beneath. -Washington was hidden somewhere beyond Pleasant—still -six miles away. It was nine o’clock. The -dome of Pleasant was free from clouds. The northern -sky was blue. Yet the sun was hazy, and southeastward -there seemed to be a haze over everything. -The wind was cold. Mr. Rogers shook his head, but -said nothing.</p> - -<p>Sitting down to rest, and ease shoulders from the -pull of the pack straps, he pulled the little green Appalachian -guide book out of his pocket, and read the -“Caution” therein about the Crawford Path:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“This path is one of the most dangerous in the -White Mountains, on it no less than four persons -having lost their lives. For a long five miles it is -above tree line and exposed to the full force of all -storms and there is but one side-trail leading to the -shelter of the woods. The following precautions -are suggested:—Persons unfamiliar with the range -should not ascend the Crawford Path except in fine -weather and beginners should not attempt it alone. -If trouble arises south of Pleasant go back over -Clinton. If on Pleasant go down the Mount Pleasant -Path. If between Pleasant and Franklin remember -that by returning via the south loop there is -protection from north and northwest winds in the -lee of the mountain. Between Franklin and the cone -of Washington the Club’s Refuge Hut should be -used. This is the most dangerous part of the path. -Never, under any circumstances, attempt the cone if -a storm has caused serious trouble before its base is -reached. Should the path be lost in cloudy -weather go north, descending into the woods and -following water. On the south nearly all the slopes -are much more precipitous and the distance to civilization -is much greater.”</p> -</div> - -<p>“Say, what are you trying to do, scare us to -death?” Peanut said.</p> - -<p>“No, I’m not trying to scare you,” Mr. Rogers -answered. “But I do want to impress on you, before -we begin our two or three days on these summits, -that they are dangerous mountains, and that -here, if anywhere, our scout motto, ‘Be prepared,’ -is the one to live by. As you say, we have blankets, -plenty of food, and compasses, and we can go down -anywhere we want, if need be, into the timber, and -get through. But we might get scattered, or after -to-day we might split for a time into groups, and I -want you all to know what to do. Now, let’s on -again.”</p> - -<p>Packs were resumed, and the party started ahead -along the rocky path toward the domed summit of -Mount Pleasant, which from this high col was -hardly more than a hill of rocks, rising a few hundred -feet above the path. They plodded on for a mile or -more, and began to see over into the great wilderness -to the south. To the north, at their very feet, -lay the Bretton Woods intervale, with the hotels and -golf links, but to the south the pitch was much -steeper, and dropped into a region of forest and -tumbled mountains without a house or road of any -sort as far as the eye could see.</p> - -<p>Now the path divided, the trail to the left leading -directly over the summit of Pleasant. They took -the right hand trail, and dropped down a little, going -along through some low scrub which had climbed -up from the gulf below, protected from the north -winds. It was warmer here in the shelter of Pleasant, -and they stopped for a long drink by a spring. -But, two miles from Clinton, they rose again beyond -Pleasant upon the bare col between Pleasant and -Franklin, and got the full force of the north wind, -which seemed to be blowing harder than before. -The sun, too, was getting more misty. Mr. Rogers -was watching the south and southeast, but while it -was very hazy in that direction, the direction of the -wind didn’t seem to indicate that the mist bank -could come their way. They rested a moment, and -then began the toilsome ascent up over the waste of -strewn boulders toward the summit of Franklin. The -path was no longer distinct. Here and there it was -plain enough, but in other places it could be detected -only by the piles of rock, or cairns, every hundred -feet along the way.</p> - -<p>As they drew near the summit of Franklin, Frank, -who happened to look back down the trail, shouted -to the rest.</p> - -<p>“Look,” he said, “somebody’s coming up behind -us!”</p> - -<p>The others turned. Sure enough, half a mile back -down the trail, were two people, a man and a -woman, evidently hurrying rapidly.</p> - -<p>“They haven’t any packs or blankets,” said Art.</p> - -<p>“Nor anything at all, but sweaters tied around -their waists, as far as I can see,” Lou added.</p> - -<p>“Probably going up for the day only, and expecting -to get down again before night,” said the Scout -Master. “They’ll have to hurry. They seem to be -hurrying. They’ll catch us all right, at the rate -they are coming now, before we get beyond Monroe.”</p> - -<p>A few moments later, the Scouts were on top of -Franklin, 5,029 feet, the first time they had been -above the five thousand foot level except on the -summit of Lafayette. Directly ahead, a little over a -mile away, was the summit of Monroe, two jagged -twin shoulders of rock, with the south wall plunging -down almost precipitously into the great pit of Oakes -Gulf. Beyond Monroe, rising a thousand feet higher -into the air, at last the great summit cone of Washington -was fully revealed, and even as they gazed -upon it, a thin streamer of grayish white cloud blew -against it out of nothingness, and then shredded out -to the southward.</p> - -<p>“I don’t like that,” said Rob.</p> - -<p>“Hm,” said Mr. Rogers, “if it’s no worse than -that we needn’t worry. It’s those two behind I’m -thinking about.”</p> - -<p>The Scouts moved on, across the col between -Franklin and Monroe, with the north wind blowing -an increasing gale, and always now on their right -the yawning pit of Oakes Gulf. They were not more -than half-way across when the couple behind them -came over Franklin, following them. They were -under the southern side of Monroe, some little distance -below the summit, and very close to the head -wall of the gulf, when the couple caught them.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile the cone of Washington had gone out -of sight in a white mass. Southward, the view was -shut out, for the haze had moved up against the -wind. Down at their very feet, in Oakes Gulf, a -cloud suddenly appeared from nowhere, coming to -the last scrub evergreens.</p> - -<p>The couple hailed the boys with panting breath.</p> - -<p>“How much farther is it up Washington?” the -man asked.</p> - -<p>Mr. Rogers and the Scouts turned and looked at -them. They were young, evidently city bred, and -they had on very light shoes. The girl had on a -silk waist, the man a stiff collar! They had no food -with them, having eaten some sandwiches they -brought, so they said, as they walked. They had put -on their sweaters, and had no other protection.</p> - -<p>“You are two miles from the summit yet,” said -Mr. Rogers, “with the hardest part of the climb -ahead.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, John, I can never do it!” said the girl.</p> - -<p>“We’ve <i>got</i> to do it,” the man answered. “You -see,” he added to Mr. Rogers, “we’ve got to catch -the train down. Some people are waiting for us at -the Mount Pleasant House.”</p> - -<p>“The train down!” said Mr. Rogers. “Why, -man alive, it’s nearly noon now, and the train goes -down shortly after one. It will take you two hours -to make the summit cone, with your—your wife in -her present condition, even if you don’t lose the -path.”</p> - -<p>“I—I’m not his wife,” the girl said, turning very -pale. “We are engaged only. You see, we’ve got -to get down again to-day. Oh, John, we <i>must</i> catch -that train!”</p> - -<p>“Come on, then, we’ll do it! Why, we can make -two miles in less than an hour! Two hours, indeed!”</p> - -<p>He started ahead, but Mr. Rogers grabbed his -arm.</p> - -<p>“Hold on!” he said, “have you ever been on -this mountain before?”</p> - -<p>“No,” they both answered.</p> - -<p>“Well, I have,” the Scout Master continued. -“Ahead of you lies the most dangerous stretch of -path east of the Rocky Mountains. There’s a cloud -coming down from Washington, and we may have -a storm at any minute. You’ve got no compass, no -provisions, no proper clothes. You’d lose that path -in five minutes in a cloud. In 1900, the thirtieth -day of June, two men, good strong walkers, too, died -of exposure between here and the summit. You stay -with us.”</p> - -<p>The girl went whiter still, and the man, also, grew -pale.</p> - -<p>“But can’t we go back the way we’ve come?” he -said.</p> - -<p>Mr. Rogers pointed back over the ridge. A cloud -was rolling up and over it from the pit of Oakes -Gulf.</p> - -<p>“You’d lose that path, too,” he said. “You stick -with us, and if we can’t make the summit before the -storm breaks, we’ll ride her out in the Shelter Hut. -Come, I’m captain, now. Forward, march!”</p> - -<p>As the party emerged from the slight shelter of -Monroe, upon the great, bare stretch of rising plateau -which forms the col between Monroe and the summit -cone, they could with difficulty stand up at first -against the gale which hit them. The clouds were -apparently doing a kind of devil’s dance around -Washington. Behind them other clouds had sucked -up the Notch, and then up Oakes Gulf, and were -pouring over the southern peaks behind like a gigantic -wave, beaten back into breakers by the wind. -Here on this plateau they were for the time being in -a kind of vortex between two cloud masses. They -hurried as fast as they could, Mr. Rogers and Art -leading.</p> - -<p>All the party were rather pale, especially the girl. -Rob was walking beside her, and helping her fight -the great wind. Their breath was short, in this altitude, -and hurrying was hard work. Moreover, the -wind came in mighty, sudden gusts, which almost -knocked the breath out of them and frequently made -them stop and brace.</p> - -<p>They had not gone a quarter of a mile when the -clouds that came down Washington and those which -streamed in from Oakes Gulf closed together, and -the last of the party, who chanced to be Lou, suddenly -found that he couldn’t see anything, nor anybody.</p> - -<p>His heart gave a great jump in his breast, and he -let out a terrified cry, which was almost lost in the -howl of the wind.</p> - -<p>“Come on up!” he heard faintly. A second later, -and he saw the forms of Peanut and Frank emerge -from the mist ahead of him. The whole party now -gathered close in behind Mr. Rogers, keeping only -two feet apart, almost treading on each other’s heels. -The Scout Master stopped a second.</p> - -<p>“Everybody watch for the cairns,” he shouted, -“and keep close together. Art and I have our compasses. -Now, keep cool. We are only a short way -from the hut. We’ll go in there till the worst is -over.”</p> - -<p>Then he moved on, slowly, making sure of the -path. The wind was rising. The cloud that packed -them close as cotton batting condensed on their -clothes in fine drops. Suddenly Peanut, who was -blowing on his chilled hands, noticed that the drops -were beginning to freeze! The rocks of the path -were getting slippery, too. The girl had stumbled -once, and strained her ankle. She was paler than -ever.</p> - -<p>“Oh, why did I wear these high heeled shoes!” -she half sobbed.</p> - -<p>The words were no sooner out of her mouth (and -probably nobody heard them for the shrieking of the -wind along the stony ground), when a terrific gust -hit the party in the faces, its force knocking their -breath out, the hail-like, freezing cloud stinging their -faces, the damp cold of it numbing them. The girl -fell again, Rob holding her enough to break the fall. -Mr. Rogers ahead also fell, but intentionally. He -made a trumpet with his hands.</p> - -<p>“Lie down and get your breaths!” he shouted. -“Then go on in the next lull as far as you can!”</p> - -<p>They all got up again when the hurricane blast -was over, and, heads down into the teeth of the icy -wind, they pushed on, till the next gust made them -fall down for shelter.</p> - -<p>“Two miles in an hour!” Peanut was thinking. -“We aren’t going a quarter of a mile an hour at this -rate. Will we ever get there?”</p> - -<p>But the rest were struggling on, and he struggled, -too, though his instinct was to turn back to the -wind, and beat it for the Crawford House, not realizing -that over four miles of bare summit lay between -him and the sheltering woods.</p> - -<p>Suddenly Art and Mr. Rogers ahead gave a cry. -The rest, looking, saw dimly in the swirling vapor -only a pile of stones and a cross.</p> - -<p>“It’s the spot where Curtis died,” Mr. Rogers -shouted. “We have only a quarter of a mile to go.”</p> - -<p>“Gee, I don’t think it’s very cheerful,” said Peanut. -“I’m near frozen now.”</p> - -<p>At the sight of the cross the girl gave way. She -began to sob, and Rob felt her weight suddenly sag -heavily on his arm.</p> - -<p>“Here, quick!” he yelled at her companion. -“Take her other arm.”</p> - -<p>The two of them got Rob’s blanket unrolled and -wrapped about her, as best they could for the whipping -of the gale, and then half carried her along, -while she tried bravely to stop her hysterical sobbing.</p> - -<p>The gale was now a perfect fury. It must have -been blowing seventy miles an hour, and the contact -of this north wind with the warmer cloud bank from -the south was making a perfect hurricane vortex of -half frozen vapor around these high summits. Everybody -was exhausted with fighting against it, and -chilled with cold. Mr. Rogers and Art, however, -kept shouting back encouragement as each fresh -cairn was picked up, and as Mr. Rogers knew the -trail, and they had a map and compass, there were -only a few delays while he or Art prospected ahead -at blind spots. Alternately lying on their faces on -the frozen, wet rocks to get their breaths, and pushing -on into the gale, they struggled ahead for what -seemed hours. Actually it was only half an hour. -Half an hour to go 440 yards!</p> - -<p>Suddenly, out of the vapor, not twenty-five feet -ahead of them, loomed a small, gray shanty.</p> - -<p>“Hoorah!” cried Art and Mr. Rogers. “The -hut!”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">To the Summit, Safe at Last</p> - -<p>They dashed to it, and opened the door. The -hut was a tiny affair, with a lean-to roof. It -faced to the south, with a door so narrow a stout -person could barely squeeze in, and one tiny window. -It would hold about six people without undue crowding—and -here were eight!</p> - -<p>“Peanut’s only half a one,” said Art, cracking the -first joke since the storm began.</p> - -<p>Into the hut, however, all eight of them crowded. -Inside, they found two or three blankets hung on a -string, and nothing else except a sign forbidding its -use in any save cases of emergency.</p> - -<p>“I guess this is emergency, all right,” said Rob, -as he helped to wrap the girl in a pair of dry blankets, -and put the third blanket about her companion. -The boys all wrapped up in their own. Rob then -got out his first aid kit, and gave the girl some aromatic -spirits of ammonia, which revived her so that -her hysterical sobbing stopped.</p> - -<p>“Here, take my pack,” said Lou, “and use it for -a pillow.”</p> - -<p>The young man, who was nearly as pale as the -girl, and almost as exhausted, took the pack and -placed it in a corner. Then they laid the girl on -the floor, with her head upon it. Her fiancé bent -over her. In cases like this you don’t think of other -people being around. He kissed her, and all the -boys turned their faces away, and Peanut rubbed -the back of his hand suspiciously across his eyes.</p> - -<p>“Guess he’s glad we’ve got her safe in here,” -Peanut whispered—or rather he spoke in what was -merely a loud tone, which amounted to a whisper -with the gale howling so outside.</p> - -<p>“I guess we’re all glad we’re in here,” Frank replied. -“Look out there!”</p> - -<p>They looked through the window into what at -first appeared to be the thick cotton batting of the -cloud, but closer inspection showed them that it was -snow. The cloud was condensing into snow!</p> - -<p>“Whew!” Peanut whistled, while the tiny cabin -gave a shiver as if it were going to be lifted from its -foundations.</p> - -<p>“Lord, what a gale!” said somebody else.</p> - -<p>There was silence in the hut. Everybody was -listening to the wind. It was howling outside, seeming -to sing over the loose stones of the mountain -top, and wail through the chinks of the tiny cabin. -It blew incessantly, but every few seconds a stronger -gust would come, and as if a giant hand had suddenly -hit it, the cabin would shiver to its foundations. -And outside was only a great white opacity -of snow and cloud!</p> - -<p>“Well, well!” cried Mr. Rogers, suddenly, in a -cheerful voice, “here we are safe and snug—almost -too snug. It’s lunch time. It’s past lunch time. -Why shouldn’t we eat? We’ll all feel better if we -eat.”</p> - -<p>“How are we going to cook anything?” asked -Art. “There’s no stove, and no chimney.”</p> - -<p>“And no wood,” said Rob.</p> - -<p>“There’s a little bit of wood outside the door. I -saw it when we came in,” said Frank.</p> - -<p>“And a lot of good it would do,” Art answered. -“You couldn’t even light it out there in that tornado.”</p> - -<p>“We’ve got some cold things,” said the Scout -Master. “Come on, out with that can of potted -ham, and the crackers we bought in Franconia to -eat bacon on, and some sweet chocolate. We’ll do -very nicely.”</p> - -<p>The Scouts soon had sandwiches made with the -crackers and ham, and offered them first to the -couple, who, wrapped in blankets, were shivering -in the corner. The girl sat up, and she and the -man each ate two sandwiches hungrily, and sweet -chocolate beside. The girl’s color began to come -back.</p> - -<p>“Do you feel better now, dear?” the man asked her.</p> - -<p>She nodded her head.</p> - -<p>“Of course she does,” said Mr. Rogers. “I’ll tell -you something now that we are safe in the shelter. -There was no time nor chance to tell you out there. -I was too busy keeping the trail. It’s this:—about -half the trouble on mountains like this comes from -funk, just as half the drownings occur from the same -cause. Not only do you lose your way much more -easily when you get terrified, but your vitality is -lowered, and the cold and exhaustion get you -quicker. If you keep cool, and your heart is beating -steadily, normally, your eye finds the trail better -and your body resists the elements. That is why -nobody ought to tackle this Bridle Path who isn’t -familiar with the mountain, unless he is accompanied -by some one who <i>is</i> familiar with it. And, unless -the weather is good, nobody should tackle it without -a food supply. In fact, I’d go so far as to say -they never should, for you can’t depend on the -weather here for half a day at a time, or even an -hour.”</p> - -<p>“I realize that now,” the man said, soberly, as he -shivered in his blanket. “They told us down at the -Crawford House that it was going to be a gale up -here to-day, but I’m afraid we didn’t realize what a -gale on Washington meant. I don’t know what -would have become of us if we hadn’t met you!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, John, don’t!” cried the girl, as if she was -going to weep again.</p> - -<p>“Well, I call it some adventure!” Peanut cried. -“Gee, I’ll bet we’ll all talk about it when we get -home! Mr. Rogers had me scared, all right, way -back on Clinton, talking about storms and——” -(here Peanut, who was about to say “people killed -in ’em,” caught Rob’s eye in warning, and added -instead) “—— and things. When the clouds hit -us, my heart came up into my mouth, and then went -down into my boots like a busted elevator, and I got -kind of cold all over. I can see how, if I’d been -alone, that would have knocked the legs out from -under me, all right. But there was Mr. Rogers -keeping the trail, so I just plugged along—and here -we are! Say, I’m going out in the snow! Snow -in July! Hooray! Come on, Art!”</p> - -<p>Peanut and Art opened the narrow slit of a door -wrapping their blankets close about them while Mr. -Rogers shouted to them not to go out of sight of -the cabin, and stood outside in the icy cloud. Rob, -watching them through the window, saw them -scooping the thin layer of snow off a rock, and -moulding it into a snowball apiece, which they -threw at each other. He could see their mouths -opening, as if they were shouting, but the howling -of the gale drowned all sound. A few minutes later -they came in again, their faces and hands red.</p> - -<p>“Say, it’s cold out there!” cried Art, “but the -wind is going down a bit, I think, and it looks -lighter in the north.”</p> - -<p>“It wouldn’t surprise me if it cleared up in an -hour,” said Mr. Rogers, “and it wouldn’t surprise -me if we had to stay here all night.”</p> - -<p>“All night!” cried the girl. “Oh, John, we’ve -<i>got</i> to get down to-night. Oh, where will mother -think we are! They’ll know we were in the storm, -too, and worry. Oh, dear!”</p> - -<p>She began to sob again, and the man endeavored -to comfort her.</p> - -<p>“Come, come!” said Mr. Rogers, rather sternly, -“you’ve got to make the best of a bad bargain. If -we can get to the Summit House later in the day, -you can telephone down to the base. Where are -your family?”</p> - -<p>“They were at Fabyans,” the man answered. -“We were all going to Bethlehem this afternoon, -after the train got down the mountain. You see, -Miss Brown and I wanted to walk up the Crawford -Bridle Path, and catch the train down. We started -very early. A friend of ours walked it last summer -in three hours and a half.”</p> - -<p>“Some walking!” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>“Well, it’s been done in two hours and thirty -minutes,” the Scout Master replied. “But it was -done in that time by two men, college athletes, in -running drawers, and they were trained for mountain -climbing, into the bargain. And they had clear -weather to the top. Whoever told you that you -could make it ought to have a licking. Of course -your family will worry, but you—and they—will -have to stand it, as the price of your foolhardiness. -We are not going out of this hut while the storm -lasts, that’s sure!”</p> - -<p>Something in Mr. Rogers’ stern tone seemed to -brace the girl suddenly up. She stopped sobbing, -and said, “Very well, I suppose there’s nothing to -do but wait.”</p> - -<p>Then she rose to her feet, and stamped around a bit -on her lame ankle, to keep it from getting stiffened -up too much, and to warm her blood, besides.</p> - -<p>“I’d like to know what the thermometer is,” said -Frank. “Must be below freezing, that’s sure.”</p> - -<p>Rob was looking out of the window. “I’m not so -sure,” he answered. “It has stopped snowing now. -Say! I believe it’s getting lighter!”</p> - -<p>He opened the door and slipped out of the hut -into the cloud. A moment later he came back.</p> - -<p>“The north is surely breaking!” he cried. “This -cloud bank hasn’t got far over the range. The north -wind has fought it back. While I was watching, the -wind seemed to tear a kind of hole in the cloud, and -I saw a bit of the valley for a second. Come on out -and watch!”</p> - -<p>All the Scouts went outside, leaving the couple -alone within. As soon as they got free of the lee -side of the shelter, the gale hit them full force, the -cloud condensing on their blankets, which they had -hard work to keep wrapped about them. But the -sight well repaid the effort. The wind was playing -a mad game with the vapors on the whole north -side of the range. The great cloud mass below -them was thinner than it had been. They could see -for several hundred feet along the bare or snow-and-ice -capped rocks, which looked wild and desolate -beyond description. Farther away, where the rocks -were swallowed up in the mists, was a seething caldron -of clouds, driven in wreaths and spirals by the -wind. Suddenly a lane would open between them, -and the rocks would be exposed far down the mountain. -As suddenly the lane would close up again. -Then it would once more open, perhaps so wide and -far that a glimpse of green valley far below would -come for a second into view. Once the top of Mount -Dartmouth was visible for a full minute. Still later, -looking northeast, the great northern shoulder of -Mount Clay appeared.</p> - -<p>“The clouds are not far down on the north side of -the range, that’s a fact,” said Mr. Rogers. “With -this north wind still blowing we may get it clear -enough to tackle the peak yet. But we don’t want -to stand out here in the cold too long.”</p> - -<p>Everybody went back to the shelter and waited -another half hour, which seemed more like two hours, -as Peanut said. Then somebody went out again to -reconnoitre, and returned with the information that -the cloud was lifting still more, and the northern -valley was visible. In another half hour even from -within the cabin they could see it was very perceptibly -lighter. The hurricane had subsided to a steady -gale, which Rob estimated at forty miles an hour, -by tossing a bit of paper into the air and watching -the speed of its flight. It was warmer, too, though -still very chilling in the fireless cabin. In another -half hour you could walk some distance from the -cabin without losing sight of it, and Peanut and Art -went down to the spring behind for water. Then -Mr. Rogers took the Scouts back on the trail a -short distance and showed them a peep of the -two Lakes of the Clouds back on the col toward -Monroe.</p> - -<p>“We were going to have lunch by those lakes,” -he said. “I wanted to show you several interesting -things about them. But they’ll have to wait. It’s a -regular Alpine garden down there, and it’s coming -into flower now. If we get a good day to-morrow, -we can take it in, though.”</p> - -<p>“Look,” cried Lou, suddenly, “there’s Monroe -coming out of the cloud!”</p> - -<p>“And there’s Franklin behind it!” cried Frank.</p> - -<p>“And there’s a misty bright spot where the sun -is!” cried Peanut.</p> - -<p>They hastened back toward the shelter to carry -the news to the couple within, and even as they -walked the clouds seemed to be rolled up by the -wind from the northern slopes, and blown off toward -the south. Before long, the whole Crawford Trail -behind them was practically free from cloud, and the -sun, very faint and hazy, was making a soft dazzle -on the powder of frost upon the rocks, for the snow -was little more than a heavy frost. To the north, -they could again see the valley, and the Dartmouth -range beyond it, and peaks still farther away, with -the sunlight on them.</p> - -<p>But the entire summit cone of Washington was -still invisible. Standing in front of the shelter, they -looked along a plateau of granite and saw it end in -a solid mass of cloud.</p> - -<p>“Oh, does that mean we can’t go on?” cried the -girl.</p> - -<p>Mr. Rogers looked at her. “How do you feel?” -he said.</p> - -<p>“Lame and cold,” she answered, “but I can do -it!”</p> - -<p>“Well, I feel pretty sure that this storm is over for -the day,” the Scout Master replied. “But those -clouds will probably take all night to blow off Washington. -I can keep the path, I feel pretty sure. It -is plain after you reach the actual cone. And, anyhow, -we’ve got time enough to circle the cone till -we reach the railroad trestle, if worst comes to worst. -I guess you’d be better off at the top. Shoulder -packs, boys!”</p> - -<p>He looked at his watch. It was half-past three. -“Now, less than two miles! Keep moving briskly. -There’s nothing to fear now. This storm is over, -I’m sure. A fire waits on top!”</p> - -<p>They started out at a good pace over the plateau -of Bigelow Lawn, Lou looking eagerly at the numerous -wild flowers in the rock crannies. The snow -was already melting, but it only made the trail the -more slippery, and this, coupled with the high wind, -made walking difficult. The girl and her companion -had no poles, so Rob and Art lent them theirs, and -Rob walked beside the girl to help her over bad -places.</p> - -<p>A third of a mile above the refuge they came upon -the Boott Spur Trail, leading off to the right, down -the long ridge of the spur, southward.</p> - -<p>“Tuckerman’s Ravine is in there, to the east of -Boott Spur,” said the Scout Master. “It seems to -be filled with clouds now.”</p> - -<p>The clouds, however, were off the spur, and -though now, as the summit path swung rather -sharply toward the north and began to go up -steeply, they were entering into the vapor about the -cone of Washington, it was much less dense than -during the morning, and they could see the path -ahead without much difficulty. This path was -something like a trench in the rocks, apparently -made by picking up loose stones and piling them on -either side till the bottom was smooth enough to -walk on—or, rather, not too rough to walk on.</p> - -<p>“This path’s a cinch now,” said Peanut, going into -the lead.</p> - -<p>Every one, however, as the trail grew steeper and -steeper, began to pant, and pause often for breath.</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter with my wind?” asked Art. -“Is it the fog in my lungs?”</p> - -<p>“It’s the altitude,” Mr. Rogers laughed. “It -oughtn’t to bother you boys much, though. You are -young. I’m the one who should be short breathed. -The older you get, the less ready your heart is to -respond to high altitudes.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t mind it,” sang back Peanut. “Art feels -it because he’s so fat!”</p> - -<p>They toiled on a few moments more in silence, -and then Lou suddenly exclaimed, “Look! a -junco!”</p> - -<p>Sure enough, out from under a rock was hopping -a junco. Art went toward it, and looking under the -rock found the nest.</p> - -<p>“Well!” he said. “What do you think of that! -A junco nesting on the ground!”</p> - -<p>“Where else would he nest here?” Lou laughed. -“But juncos are winter birds, I thought.”</p> - -<p>“Well, ain’t this winter weather enough for you to-day?” -said Art.</p> - -<p>“The top of Washington is said to be about the -climate of Labrador,” Mr. Rogers put in. “That’s -why some juncos always spend the summer here instead -of going farther north.”</p> - -<p>Lou was watching the pretty gray and white bird, -as it hopped excitedly over the rocks, almost invisible -sometimes against the bare gray granite, and in -the whitish mist. “That junco is protectively -colored on these rocks, all right,” he said. “But -gee, he looks kind of lonely way up here!”</p> - -<p>“Lonely!” exclaimed Frank. “I must say, this -whole place is the most desolate looking thing I ever -saw—nothing but big hunks of granite piled every -which way, and no sun and no sky and no earth below -you. I feel kind of as if we were the only people -in the whole world.”</p> - -<p>“So do I,” said Peanut. “I like it, though! Way -up in the clouds above everybody—not a sound but -the win——”</p> - -<p>Just at that moment, seemingly from the gray -cloud over their heads, rang out the call of a -bugle!</p> - -<p>Everybody stopped short, and exclaimed, “What’s -that?”</p> - -<p>“We aren’t up to the top yet,” said Mr. Rogers. -“Somebody must be coming down.”</p> - -<p>“Hello, yourself!” yelled Peanut, at the top of his -lungs.</p> - -<p>There was a sharp toot on the bugle, and as the -Scouts moved forward up the trail, they presently -saw dim figures above them, moving down. A moment -later and the parties met. The newcomers -were five men, with packs and poles. One of them -had a bugle slung from his shoulder.</p> - -<p>“Is Miss Alice Brown in your party?” they called -as soon as they came in sight.</p> - -<p>“Here I am,” the girl said. “What is it?”</p> - -<p>She had gone white again, and hung on Rob’s -arm.</p> - -<p>“We’re looking for you, that’s all,” said the five -men, as the parties met. “Is your companion -here?”</p> - -<p>“I’m here—we’re both here, thanks to these boys -and their leader,” the man replied. “How did you -know we were coming up?”</p> - -<p>“How did we know?” said the man with the -bugle. “Miss Brown’s parents have been spending -$7,333,641.45 telephoning to the summit to find out -if you had arrived. As soon as we got word that the -lower ridges had cleared, we started down to look for -you.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, poor mamma!” cried the girl.</p> - -<p>“Well, she’ll be waiting for you with her ear glued -to the other end of the wire when you get up—never -fear,” the bugler said. Then he turned to Mr. -Rogers. “Where did you ride her out? The -shelter?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” the Scout Master replied. “That shelter -certainly justified itself to-day.”</p> - -<p>“Good!” said the other. “Score one more for the -Appalachian Club. It was the worst July storm I -ever saw on the mountain. A hundred miles an hour -on top, and the thermometer down to twenty-two.”</p> - -<p>He moved on up the trail beside Mr. Rogers and -one or two of the Scouts.</p> - -<p>“Greenhorns, of course?” he queried, in a low -tone, nodding back toward the man and girl. -“Tried it without any food, or enough clothes, or -even a compass, I’ll bet?”</p> - -<p>“Exactly,” the Scout Master answered. “They -were following us—expected to make the top in time -to catch the train down. Thought it was a pleasant -morning stroll, I suppose. They caught us under -Monroe, when the weather was first thickening up -nasty. The girl had wrenched her ankle, and it -seemed wiser to make the shelter than to try to get -back to the Mount Pleasant trail, and then way down -Pleasant to Bretton Woods, in the teeth of the gale.”</p> - -<p>“Quite right,” said the other. “Did you have -any trouble with the path?”</p> - -<p>“A good deal,” Mr. Rogers answered. “Art, -here, and I were picking it up, and we didn’t let on, -but it was hard work, especially with that icy gale in -your face. It ought to have at least double the number -of cairns between Monroe and the summit cone. -I really thought I’d lost it once, but we picked up the -next cairn before we got nervous.”</p> - -<p>“You’re right,” said the bugler. “You’re quite -right. They’ve neglected this fine old path for the -paths on the north peaks. And it’s more dangerous -than any of the north peaks, too. It ought to be remarked.”</p> - -<p>As he spoke, they came suddenly into what looked -like an old cellar hole in the rocks.</p> - -<p>“The corral where the horses used to be hitched -after they’d come up the Bridle Path,” said the man. -“We’re almost there, now.”</p> - -<p>The path became more nearly level, and very soon, -through the cloud, they could make out what looked -like the end of a wooden bridge. A moment later, -and they saw it was the end of a railroad trestle. -Another minute, and through the vapors they saw -emerge a house, a curious, long, low house, built of -stone, with a wooden roof. The house was shaped -just like a Noah’s ark.</p> - -<p>“The summit!” cried Mr. Rogers. “There’s the -old Tip Top House!”</p> - -<p>The Scouts gave a yell, and jumped upon the -platform at the top of the railroad. From this platform -a board walk led up to the door of the Tip Top -House. Across the track, steps led down to a barn -and a second house, the coach house at the top of -the carriage road, which ascends the eastern slope -of the mountain.</p> - -<p>The girl, as Rob and her fiancé helped her up on -the platform, gave a weary sigh, almost a sob, and -then, hobbling on her lame ankle, she tried to run up -the walk to the Tip Top House. The boys followed -a little more slowly, looking first at the cellar hole -where the old Summit Hotel used to stand (it was -burned down in 1908) and where a new hotel will -have been built before this story is published.</p> - -<p>It was nearly half-past five when they entered the -long, low room of the Tip Top House, and felt the -sudden warmth of a wood-fire roaring in a great -iron stove.</p> - -<p>Dumping their packs in a corner, the boys made for -this stove, and held out their hands toward the warmth.</p> - -<p>“Gee, it feels good,” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>“Feels good on my legs, all right,” said Frank. -“I’m kind o’ stiff and tired, I don’t mind saying.”</p> - -<p>The girl had disappeared. She had already talked -to her mother at the foot of the mountain by the -telephone which runs down the railroad trestle, and -the wife of the proprietor of the Tip Top House had -taken her up-stairs to put her to bed.</p> - -<div class="figcenter illowp100" id="tip-top-house" style="max-width: 30em;"> - <img class="w100" src="images/tip-top-house.jpg" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>“It all depends on what winds Father Aeolus keeps chained, perhaps in the deep caverns of the Great Gulf, -or which ones he lets loose to rattle the chains of the Tip Top House”</p></div> -</div> - -<p>“I guess she’ll sleep all right to-night,” said the -man with the bugle, who had entered with the boys.</p> - -<p>“And she won’t tackle the Crawford Bridle Path -with high heeled shoes on very soon again, either!” -said Rob. “Are we going to sleep here, too, Mr. -Rogers? I don’t believe we’ll want to sleep outside. -The thermometer by that window is still down almost -to freezing.”</p> - -<p>The man with the bugle whispered to them, so the -proprietor wouldn’t hear, “Don’t stay here. They’ll -stick you for supper and put you in rooms where -you can’t get any air. The windows are made into -the roof, and don’t open. I got a horrible cold from -sleeping here last year. Guess they never air the -bedding. We are all down at the coach house. -You may have to sleep on the floor, but the window -will be open, and you can cook your own grub on -the stove.”</p> - -<p>“That’s us!” said Peanut. “Say, we want to get -some sweet chocolate first, though, and some post-cards, -don’t we?”</p> - -<p>The Scouts all piled over to the long counter at -one side of the room, and stocked up with sweet -chocolate, and also wrote and mailed post-cards, to -be sent down on the train the next day. The summit -of Washington in summer is a regular United -States post-office, and you can have mail delivered -there, if you want.</p> - -<p>“Be sure you don’t scare your families with lurid -accounts of to-day!” Mr. Rogers cautioned them. -“Better save that till you’re safe home.”</p> - -<p>“Why don’t you write out a little account of your -adventure for <i>Among the Clouds</i>?” said the proprietor. -“You can have copies sent to your homes, -if you leave before it comes out.”</p> - -<p>“What’s <i>Among the Clouds</i>?” the boys asked.</p> - -<p>He picked up a small eight page newspaper. -“Printed at the base every day,” he said. “It was -printed on top here, till the hotel burned. All the -arrivals at the summit are put in daily.”</p> - -<p>“You write the story, Rob,” cried Art. “When -will it be printed?”</p> - -<p>“Make it short, and I can telephone it down for -to-morrow,” the man said.</p> - -<p>“Fine! We’ll all take two copies,” said Peanut. -“Save ’em for us. We’ll be around here for two -or three days. Hooray, we’re going to be in the -paper!”</p> - -<p>“You might all register over there while the story -is being written,” said the proprietor.</p> - -<p>Rob took a pencil and piece of paper and sat -down by the stove to write, while the rest walked -over to the register. There were very few entries -for that day, as you can guess. The top of the page -(the day before) showed, however, the names of two -automobile parties, who had written, in large letters -under their names, the make of the cars they had -come up the mountain in.</p> - -<p>“Gee, how silly,” said Art.</p> - -<p>“Wait,” said Peanut, his eyes twinkling, “till <i>I</i> -register.”</p> - -<p>He wrote his name last, and under it he printed, -in big, heavy letters:</p> - -<p> -<i>Smith and Jerome’s Shoes</i>.<br /> -</p> - -<p>“There,” he cried, “that’s the motor <i>I</i> came up -in! Good ad. for old Smith and Jerome, eh? -Might as well advertise our Southmead storekeepers.”</p> - -<p>The man with the bugle, who was standing behind -the boys, peeked over at the register, and roared -with laughter.</p> - -<p>“You’re all right, kid!” he said. “I wish the -motor parties could see it. It would serve ’em right -for boasting about owning a car. Besides, that’s the -lazy loafer’s way of climbing a mountain. If I were -boss, I’d dynamite the carriage road and the railroad, -and then nobody could get here but folks who -knew how to walk.”</p> - -<p>“You’re like the man on Moosilauke,” said Lou.</p> - -<p>“I’m like all true mountaineers,” he answered.</p> - -<p>“And Scouts,” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>Rob had now finished a brief account of their -adventure on the Crawford Bridle Path, and the -proprietor went up-stairs to find out the name of -the man they had rescued. The girl’s name they -already knew.</p> - -<p>“Don’t say we rescued them, Rob,” Mr. Rogers -cautioned. “Say they overtook us at Monroe, and -we all went on together, because we had blankets -and provisions.”</p> - -<p>“That’s what I have <i>said</i>,” laughed Rob. “But -it doesn’t alter the facts.”</p> - -<p>The proprietor came back with the name, and -Rob added to the man with the bugle, “And the -names of your party, too?”</p> - -<p>“Say five trampers,” the other answered. “I’ll -tell you our names later. We aren’t essential to the -story.”</p> - -<p>“But I would like to know why you have the -bugle,” said Rob.</p> - -<p>“I’ll tell you that later, also,” the man laughed.</p> - -<p>Rob turned his little account over to the proprietor, -and the party left the warm house, and went out -again into the cloud and the chilling wind.</p> - -<p>It was almost like stepping out upon the deck of -a ship in a heavy fog. They could see the board -walk ahead, as far as the railroad platform—and -that was all. The rest of the world was blotted out. -The wind was wailing in the telephone wires and -through the beams of the railroad trestle, just as it -wails through the rigging of a ship. It was getting -dark, too. The boys shivered, and nobody suggested -any exploring.</p> - -<p>“Me for supper, and bunk,” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>They crossed the railroad with its cog rail between -the two wheel rails, and descended a long flight of -steps. At the bottom was the end of the carriage -road, which they could see disappearing into the -cloud to the east, a barn on the left, chained down -to the rocks, and on the right a square, two-story -building, the carriage house.</p> - -<p>Inside, a lamp was already lighted, and the four -men who had come down the mountain with the -bugler, as well as the evident proprietor of the house, -were sitting about the stove, which was crammed -with wood and roaring hotly.</p> - -<p>“Well?” said the four, as the Scouts and the -bugler entered. “Any more people to go down -and rescue?”</p> - -<p>The bugler shook his head. “Haven’t heard of -any,” he said. “There’s no word of any one else -trying the Crawford Path to-day. Anybody that -tackled Tuckerman’s will certainly have had sense -enough to stay in the camp. That party who came -over the Gulf Side this morning with us decided to -go down the carriage road, they tell me. I guess -we’ve got this place to ourselves.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, it’s a good, soft floor,” one of the men -laughed. “You boys don’t mind a good, soft floor, -do you?”</p> - -<p>“Not a bit,” said Peanut. “I always sleep on the -floor—prefer it, in fact.”</p> - -<p>The others laughed, and the Scouts got off their -packs, spread their blankets out to dry, and took off -their sweaters.</p> - -<p>Then everybody began to prepare for supper. -The proprietor of the coach house moved out a -table, and put some boards across it to make it -larger. The Scouts compared provisions with the -five trampers, and found that the strangers had -coffee which the boys were rather shy on, and condensed -milk, which the boys didn’t have at all, while -the boys had powdered eggs and dehydrated vegetables, -which the strangers didn’t have. There wasn’t -time enough, however, to soak the vegetables.</p> - -<p>“You make us coffee, and we’ll make you an -omelet,” said Art. “That’s a fair swap. I’ll cook -griddle cakes for the bunch.”</p> - -<p>“More than fair,” said the bugler. “It’s taking a -whole meal from you chaps, while we have more than -enough coffee. Here, use some of our minced ham -in that omelet.”</p> - -<p>“Just the thing!” said Art. “We ate most of -ours in the shelter.” He began at once to mix the -omelet.</p> - -<p>In a short time the party of eleven (the proprietor -cooked his supper later) sat down to the rough table, -with bouillon cube soup first, and then steaming -coffee, omelet made with minced ham, griddle cakes -flavored with butter and sugar furnished by the -proprietor, and sweet chocolate for dessert.</p> - -<p>For a time nobody said much. The men and boys -were all hungry, and they were busy putting away -the delicious hot food.</p> - -<p>“Nothing could keep me awake to-night,” said -Peanut, presently. “May I have another cup of -coffee?”</p> - -<p>“Who else wants more?” asked the bugler, who -was pouring.</p> - -<p>“Me,” said Art.</p> - -<p>“And me,” said the bugler.</p> - -<p>“And me,” said Mr. Rogers.</p> - -<p>“And me,” said one of the men.</p> - -<p>“And I,” said Rob, whereupon the rest all burst -out laughing, and Rob looked surprised, for he -hadn’t intended to rebuke them by using correct -grammar.</p> - -<p>“You see the advantages of a college education, -gentlemen,” cried Mr. Rogers, while poor Rob turned -red.</p> - -<p>It was a merry meal. After it was over, the five -men pulled pipes out of their pockets, and puffed -contentedly, while the boys sat about the stove, and -Peanut said:</p> - -<p>“Now, Mr. Bugler, tell us why you have the -bugle.”</p> - -<p>Much to the boys’ surprise, the man addressed -blushed.</p> - -<p>“Gee, you boys will laugh at me!” he said, like -a boy himself. “But I’ll tell you. I toted this bugle -up from Randolph yesterday. We came in around -through the Great Gulf, and up the Six Husbands’ -Trail——”</p> - -<p>“Some trail, too!” the other four put in.</p> - -<p>“—— and back over Adams to the Madison Hut. -We spent last night there, and came over the Gulf -Side this morning. We’d reached Clay before the -bad weather hit us. The summit cone held it back. -And we got to the carriage road before it got so -thick that you couldn’t see at all. Lord, how the -wind blew coming around Clay! Honestly, I didn’t -know if we could make it.”</p> - -<p>“But the bugle?” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, the bugle. I was forgetting the bugle, -wasn’t I?”</p> - -<p>“You were—maybe,” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>The rest laughed.</p> - -<p>“Well, now I’ll tell you about the bugle,” the -speaker went on. “When I was in college a chap -roomed next to me who could punt a football farther -than anybody I ever knew——”</p> - -<p>“How far?” asked Art.</p> - -<p>“Well, I’ve seen him cover seventy yards,” was -the answer.</p> - -<p>“Some punt!” cried Peanut. “Did that make -you buy a bugle?”</p> - -<p>“Say, who’s telling the story?” the man said. -“No, it didn’t make me buy a bugle, but this chap -who could punt so far bought a cornet. What do -you suppose he bought a cornet for?”</p> - -<p>“I can’t imagine why <i>anybody</i> should buy a cornet,” -put in one of the other men.</p> - -<p>“Shut up, Tom,” said the bugler. “Well, he -bought a cornet so he could learn to play it, and -after he had learned to play it (keeping everybody -in the dormitory from studying while he learned, -too!), he spent a summer vacation in the Rocky -Mountains, and carried that cornet up to the highest -peaks that he could climb, and played it. He learned -to play it just for that—just for the joy of hearing -horn music float out into the great spaces of the sky. -Also, he made echoes with it against the cliffs while -he was climbing up. After that summer he never -played it again.”</p> - -<p>“Why didn’t he see how far he could punt a -football from the top of Pike’s Peak?” Peanut -grinned.</p> - -<p>“He used up all his breath playing the cornet, -and couldn’t blow up the ball,” said the man.</p> - -<p>Lou wasn’t taking this story as a joke, however. -“And you brought your bugle up here, to play it -from the top of Washington?” he asked. “I think -that’s fine. Gee, I wish you’d go out and play taps -before we go to bed!”</p> - -<p>The man looked at Lou keenly. “So <i>you</i> understand!” -he said. “These Philistines with me don’t, -and your young friend Peanut there doesn’t. They -have no music in their souls, have they? You and -I will go outside presently, and play taps to the circumambient -atmosphere.”</p> - -<p>“Some language,” snickered Peanut. “What -we’ll need isn’t taps, though, but reveille to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>“Cheer up, you’ll get that all right,” the man -laughed.</p> - -<p>They all sat for a while discussing the day’s adventure, -and planning for the next day, if it was -clear. The five men were going down over the Davis -Path, and as that path leads along Boott Spur, the -Scouts decided to go with them, leaving them at the -end of the spur, the Scouts to descend for the night -into Tuckerman’s Ravine, while the others kept on -southwest, over the Giant’s Stairs, to the lower end -of Crawford Notch.</p> - -<p>“But we want to visit the Lakes of the Clouds -first,” said the Scout Master. “We scarcely got a -peep at ’em to-day.”</p> - -<p>“Suits us,” said the man called Tom. “We’ll -have time, if we start early. I’d like to see the -Alpine garden myself.”</p> - -<p>“And now for taps,” cried the bugler.</p> - -<p>He and Lou got up, and went out-of-doors. The -rest followed, but the first pair slipped away quickly -into the cloud, going down the carriage road till the -lamp of the coach house was invisible.</p> - -<p>The universe was deathly still save for the continual -moaning of the wind. There was nothing at all -visible, either stars above, or valley lamps below—nothing -but a damp, chilly <i>white darkness</i>. Lou -was silent, awed. The man set his bugle to his lips, -and blew—blew the sweet, sad, solemn notes of -taps.</p> - -<p>As they rose above the moaning of the wind and -seemed to float off into space, Lou’s heart tingled in -his breast. As the last note died sweetly away, there -were tears in his eyes—he couldn’t say why. But -something about taps always made him sad, and -now, in this strange setting up in the clouds, the -tears actually came. The man saw, and laid a hand -in silence on his shoulder.</p> - -<p>“You understand,” he said, presently, as they -moved back up the road, and that was all he said.</p> - -<p>Back in the coach house, the proprietor showed -them all the available cots up-stairs. There were two -shy, so Art and Peanut insisted on sleeping down-stairs -by the stove. They wabbed up an extra -blanket or two for a bed, made their sweaters into -pillows, and almost before the lamp was blown out, -they were as fast asleep as if they had been lying on -feathers.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">Down Tuckerman’s Ravine</p> - -<p>But while it is comparatively easy to go to sleep -on the floor, it is not so easy to stay asleep on -it. Both Art and Peanut awoke more than once -during the night, and shifted to the other shoulder. -Finally, toward morning, Art got up and tiptoed to -the window, to look out. He came back and shook -Peanut.</p> - -<p>“Whaz-a-matter?” said Peanut, sleepily.</p> - -<p>“Get up, and I’ll show you,” Art whispered.</p> - -<p>Peanut roused himself, and joined Art at the -window.</p> - -<p>Outside the stars were shining! But that was not -all. Art pointed down the carriage road, and far below, -on the black shadow of the mountain Peanut -saw what looked like bobbing stars fallen to the -ground. These stars were evidently drawing nearer.</p> - -<p>“Well, what do you make of that!” he exclaimed.</p> - -<p>“Bless me if I know. It’s evidently somebody -coming up the road with lanterns.”</p> - -<p>The two boys slipped noiselessly into their shoes, -and struck a match to look at their watches.</p> - -<p>“Quarter to four,” said Art. “The sun will rise -in half an hour. Gee, I’d like to get that bugle and -wake ’em up!”</p> - -<p>“The owner’s using it himself, I should say,” -whispered Peanut, as the sound of a snore came from -the room above. They looked about, but the man -had evidently taken his bugle up-stairs with him, so -they slipped out through the door to investigate the -bobbing lanterns coming up the mountain.</p> - -<p>It was cold outside, and still dark, but they could -make out dimly the track of the carriage road, and -walked down it. The lanterns were drawing nearer, -and now they could hear voices. A moment later, -and they met the lantern bearers, a party of nearly -a dozen men and women.</p> - -<p>“Hello, boys! Where did you drop from?” cried -the man in the lead, suddenly spying Art and Peanut.</p> - -<p>“Where did you come up from?” Peanut replied.</p> - -<p>“We walked up from the Glen cottage to see the -sunrise,” the other replied.</p> - -<p>“Oh, dear, I should say we did!” sighed a woman -in the party. “If you ever catch me climbing a -mountain again in the middle of the night, send me -to Matteawan at once.”</p> - -<p>“Cheer up, Lizzie, we’ll have some sandwiches -pretty soon,” somebody told her.</p> - -<p>“Sandwiches for breakfast! Worse and worse!” -she sighed. “I don’t believe there’s going to be -any sunrise, either. I don’t see any signs of it.”</p> - -<p>“Let’s shake this bunch,” Art whispered to Peanut. -“They give me a pain.”</p> - -<p>The boys ran back, ahead, to the coach house, -entered once more, and bolted the door behind them, -lest the new party try to get in.</p> - -<p>“Golly, we’ve <i>got</i> to get that bugle, and have the -laugh on whatever his name is—he didn’t tell us, did -he? I’m going up after it,” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>He kicked off his shoes, and started on tiptoe up -the stairs. Art heard the floor creak overhead, and -then he heard a smothered laugh.</p> - -<p>A moment later the man appeared with the bugle -in one hand, and Peanut’s ear in the other. Peanut -was still attached to the ear, and he was trying hard -not to laugh out loud.</p> - -<p>“Caught you red-handed,” said the man. “Hello, -there, Art! You up too? How’s the weather?”</p> - -<p>“Fine,” said Art. “Come on out and wake ’em -all up.”</p> - -<p>The man looked at his watch, then at the sky -through the window. The east was already light. -The stars were paling. You could see out over the -bare rock heaps of the mountain top.</p> - -<p>“Come on!” he said.</p> - -<p>The three went outdoors. The party with -lanterns had already passed the coach house and -climbed the steps to the summit. They could be -heard up there, talking. The man and the boys -went around to the south of the coach house, out -of sight of the summit, and setting his bugle to -his lips, tipping it upward toward the now rosy -east, the man pealed out the gay, stirring notes of -reveille.</p> - -<p>“Oh, do it again!” cried Peanut. “Gee, I like it -up here! I know now why you brought the bugle.”</p> - -<p>The man smiled, and blew reveille again.</p> - -<p>Before the last notes had died away, they heard -stampings in the house behind them, and cries of -“Can it!” “Say, let a feller sleep, won’t you?” -“Aw, cut out the music!”</p> - -<p>“Get up, you stiffs, and see the sun rise!” shouted -Peanut. “Going to be a grand day!”</p> - -<p>Five minutes later the Scouts and the men were all -out of the coach house, on the rocks beside Art and -Peanut.</p> - -<p>“It <i>is</i> a good day, that’s a fact,” said Mr. Rogers. -“Where’s the best place to see the sun rise?”</p> - -<p>“I’d suggest the top of the mountain,” said the -bugler.</p> - -<p>It was light now. The east was rosy, and as they -looked down southward over the piles of bare, -tumbled rock toward Tuckerman’s Ravine, they could -see masses of white cloud, like cotton batting. Up -the steps they all hurried, and found the lantern -party eating sandwiches in the shelter of the Tip Top -House, out of the wind.</p> - -<p>“They’d rather eat than see the sun rise,” sniffed -Art.</p> - -<p>“Maybe you would, if you’d spent the night walking -up the carriage road,” laughed somebody.</p> - -<p>Peanut led the way to the highest rock he could -find, and they looked out upon the now fast lightening -world.</p> - -<p>Northward, far out beyond the great shoulders of -the mountain, they could see glimpses of the lower -hills and valleys. But all nearer the mountain was -hidden by the low white cloud beneath their feet. To -the northeast and east was nothing but cloud, about -a thousand feet below them. The same was true to -the south. Southwestward, over the long shoulders -of the Crawford Bridle Path, where they had climbed -the day before, lay the same great blanket of white -wool.</p> - -<p>“Say, this peak of Washington looks just like a -great rock island in the sea,” cried Lou.</p> - -<p>Now the world was almost bright as day. The -east was rosy, the upper sky blue, the stars gone. -The great white ocean of cloud below them heaved -and eddied under the gusts of northwest wind which -swept down from the summit, wherever a wave crest -rose above the level. The sun, a great red ball, appeared -in the east, and the bugler set his bugle to his -lips and blew a long blast of welcome.</p> - -<p>It was a wonderful, a beautiful spectacle. As they -watched, the clouds below them heaved and stirred, -and seemed to thin out here and there, and suddenly -to the northeast a second rock island, shaped like a -pyramid, appeared to rise out of the pink and white -sea.</p> - -<p>“Hello, there’s Jefferson!” cried one of the men.</p> - -<p>Then a second island, also a peak of bare rock, -rose beyond Jefferson.</p> - -<p>“And there’s Adams,” said Mr. Rogers.</p> - -<p>“And there’s Madison,” said the bugler, as a third -peak rose up from the cloud sea, beyond Adams.</p> - -<p>“What is between those peaks and the shoulder of -Washington I see running northeast?” asked Frank.</p> - -<p>“The Great Gulf,” one of the men replied. “There -must have been a heavy dew in the Gulf last night. -It’s packed full of clouds.”</p> - -<p>“Probably got soaked with the rain yesterday, -too,” somebody else said. “The clouds will get -out of it before long, though. They are coming up -fast.”</p> - -<p>Even as he spoke, one rose like a long, white finger -over the head wall of the Gulf, stretched out to -the gray water-tanks of the railroad and almost before -any one could speak, it blew cold into the faces -of the party on the summit.</p> - -<p>“Hello, cloud!” said Peanut, making a swipe -with his hand at the white mist. “Does that mean -bad weather again?” he added.</p> - -<div class="figcenter illowp100" id="northern-peaks" style="max-width: 30em;"> - <img class="w100" src="images/northern-peaks.jpg" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>Cataract of clouds pouring over the Northern Peaks into the Great Gulf, seen from the summit -of Mount Washington</p></div> -</div> - -<p>“No, they’re just rising from the gulfs. They’ll -blow off before we start, I fancy,” one of the trampers -said. “It’s the clouds which come down, or -come from the plains, which make the trouble. -Come on, breakfast now! If we are going to make -a side trip to the Lakes of the Clouds with you -Scouts, we’ve got to get an early start, for our path -down over the Giant’s Stairs is fifteen or twenty -miles long, and hard to find, in the bargain.”</p> - -<p>As they went, however, a look away from the sun -showed the shadow of Washington cast over the -clouds westward as far as the eye could see. Peanut -waved his arm. “The shadow of that gesture was -on the side of Lafayette!” he cried.</p> - -<p>Breakfast was prepared as quickly as possible, the -boys furnishing powdered eggs, the men bacon and -coffee. Then, after they had paid the keeper of the -coach house for their night’s lodging, the combined -parties shouldered packs, went back up the steps in -a thin white cloud, stocked up with sweet chocolate -at the Tip Top House, and still in the cloud set off -southwest down the summit cone, by the Crawford -Bridle Path.</p> - -<p>The descent was rapid. The cone is a thousand -feet high, but they were soon on Bigelow Lawn, and -though the white mists were still coming up over -the ridge from the gulfs below, they were thin here, -and the sunlight flashed in, and below them they -could see the green intervale of Bretton Woods, -shining in full morning light.</p> - -<p>“Rather more cheerful than yesterday,” said -Frank.</p> - -<p>“Ra-<i>ther</i>,” cried Peanut.</p> - -<p>At the junction of the Boott Spur Trail, everybody -unloaded all baggage, and the packs and -blankets were piled under a boulder. Then they -hurried on down the Bridle Path, past the refuge -hut which had been such a friend the day before, -and soon reached the larger of the two Lakes of the -Clouds, which lies just north of the Crawford Trail, -on the very edge of the Monroe-Washington col, -exactly two miles below the summit. The larger -lake is perhaps half an acre in extent, the smaller -hardly a third of that size.</p> - -<p>“These lakes are the highest east of the Rocky -Mountains,” said Mr. Rogers. “They are 5,053 -feet above sea level.”</p> - -<p>“And a deer has been drinking in this one,” said -Art, pointing to a hoof mark in the soft, deep moss -at the margin.</p> - -<p>“Sure enough!” one of the men said. “He -must have come up from timber line, probably over -from Oakes Gulf.”</p> - -<p>“You remember, boys,” Mr. Rogers said, “that -I told you I was going to show you the head waters -of a river? Well, we saw one at the Crawford House—the -head of the Saco. This lake is one of the head -waters of the Ammonoosuc, which is the biggest -northern tributary of the Connecticut.”</p> - -<p>“It’s a bit cleaner than the Connecticut is at -Hartford or Springfield,” laughed Rob. “My, it’s -like pure glass! Look, you can see every stick and -piece of mica on the bottom.”</p> - -<p>“And it’s cold, too!” cried Art, as he dipped his -hand in.</p> - -<p>“Now, let’s look at the Alpine wild flowers as we -go back,” said the bugler. “They are what interest -me most.”</p> - -<p>The party turned toward the path again, and they -became aware that almost every crevice between the -loose stones was full of rich moss of many kinds, and -this moss had made bits of peaty soil in which the -wild flowers grew. There were even a few dwarfed -spruces, three or four feet high, all around the border -of the lake.</p> - -<p>The wild flowers were now in full bloom.</p> - -<p>“It’s spring up here, you know, in early July,” -said the bugler. “Look at all those white sandwort -blossoms, like a snow-storm. What pretty little -things they are, like tiny white cups.”</p> - -<p>“What’s the yellow one?” asked Lou, who was -always interested in plants.</p> - -<p>“That’s the geum,” the man replied. “Look at -the root leaves—they are just like kidneys.”</p> - -<p>“It’s everywhere,” said Lou. “Look, it even -grows in cracks half-way up the rocks.”</p> - -<p>The man also pointed out the tiny stars of the -Houstonia, which interested the boys, because their -Massachusetts home was near the Housatonic River. -But the botanist assured them that there was no connection -between the names, the flower being named -for a botanist named Houston, while the river’s name -is Indian.</p> - -<p>There were several other kinds of flowers here, -too, as well as grasses, and conspicuous among them -was the Indian poke, sticking up its tall stalk three -feet in the boggy hollows between rocks, its roots in -the wet tundra moss, with yellowish-green blossoms -at the top.</p> - -<p>“Well, who’d ever guess so many things could -live way up here, on the rocks!” Lou exclaimed. -“But I like the little sandwort best. That’s the one -which gets nearest the top of Washington, isn’t it?”</p> - -<p>“It’s the only one which gets there, except the -grass, I believe,” the bugler answered.</p> - -<p>Everybody picked a few sandwort cups, and -stuck them in his hat band or buttonhole, and thus -arrayed they reached once more the junction of -the Boott Spur Trail, shouldered packs, and set off -southward, down the long, rocky shoulder of the -spur, which pushes out from the base of the summit -cone.</p> - -<p>The sun was now high. The clouds had stopped -coming up over the head walls of the ravines. They -could see for miles, even to the blue ramparts of -Lafayette and Moosilauke in the west and southwest. -Directly south they looked over a billowing sea of -mountains and green, forest-covered valleys, a -wilderness in which there was no sign of human -beings. To their left was the deep hole of Tuckerman’s -Ravine, gouged out of the solid rock. Only -the very summit of Washington behind them still -wore a hood of white vapor.</p> - -<p>It was only three-quarters of a mile to the nose of -the spur, and they were soon there. Here the two -parties were to divide, the boys going down to the -left into the yawning hole of Tuckerman’s Ravine, -which they could now see plainly, directly below -them, the other trampers turning to the southwest, -for their long descent over the Davis Path and the -Montalban range. At the nose of the spur was a big -cairn, and out of it the bugler fished an Appalachian -Mountain Club cylinder, opened it, and disclosed -the register, upon which they all wrote their names. -Then they all shook hands, the bugler blew a long -blast on his bugle, and the Scouts watched their -friends of the night go striding off down the Davis -Path.</p> - -<p>“Now, where do <i>we</i> go?” asked Art.</p> - -<p>Mr. Rogers pointed down into Tuckerman’s -Ravine, the wooded floor of which, sheltering the -dark mirror of Hermit Lake, lay over fifteen hundred -feet below them.</p> - -<p>“Golly, where’s your parachute?” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>“We don’t need a parachute,” Mr. Rogers laughed. -“Here’s the path.”</p> - -<p>The boys looked over into the pit. Across the -ravine rose another precipitous wall, with a lump at -the end called the Lion’s Head. The ravine itself -was like a long, narrow horseshoe cut into the rocky -side of Mount Washington—a horseshoe more than -a thousand feet deep. They were on one side of the -open end.</p> - -<p>“Well, here goes!” cried Peanut, and he began -to descend.</p> - -<p>At first the trail went down over a series of levels, -or steps, close to the edge of the precipice. At one -point this precipice seemed actually to hang out over -the gulf below, and it seemed as if they could throw -a stone into Hermit Lake.</p> - -<p>Peanut tried it, in fact, but the stone sailed out, -descended, and disappeared, as if under the wall.</p> - -<p>“These are the hanging cliffs,” said Mr. Rogers. -“We’ll go down faster soon.”</p> - -<p>Presently the path did swing back to the left, and -began to drop right down the cliff side. The cliff -wall wasn’t quite so steep as it had looked from -above, and the path was perfectly possible for travel; -but it was the steepest thing they had tackled yet, -nonetheless, and it kept them so busy dropping down -the thousand feet or more to the ravine floor that they -could barely take time to glance at the great, white -mass of snow packed into the semi-shadow under -the head wall.</p> - -<p>“Say, we are making some time, though!” Peanut -panted, as he dropped his own length from one -rock to the next.</p> - -<p>“Faster’n you’d make coming back,” laughed Lou.</p> - -<p>The path soon dropped them into scrub spruce, -which had climbed up the ravine side to meet them, -and this stiff spruce grew taller and taller as they -descended, till in less than fifteen minutes they were -once more—for the first time since leaving the side -of Clinton—in the woods. At the bottom of the cliff -the path leveled out, crossed a brook twice, and -brought them suddenly into another trail, leading up -into the head of the ravine. Almost opposite was a -sign pointing down another path to the Appalachian -Mountain Club camp.</p> - -<p>“We’ll leave our stuff there at the camp,” said Mr. -Rogers, “and go see the snow arch before lunch, eh?”</p> - -<p>“You bet!” the boys cried.</p> - -<p>It was only a few minutes after ten. They had -started so early from the summit of Washington that -they still had the better part of the day before them. -A few steps brought them to the camp, which was a -log and bark lean-to, with the back and sides enclosed, -built facing the six or eight foot straight side -of a huge boulder. This boulder side was black with -the smoke of many fires. It was no more than four -feet away from the front of the lean-to, so that a big -fire, built against it, would throw back a lot of warmth -right into the shelter. All about the hut were beautiful -thick evergreens.</p> - -<p>“That’s a fine idea!” Art exclaimed. “You not -only have your fire handy, and sheltered completely -from the wind, but you get the full heat of it. Say, -we must build a camp just like this when we get -back!”</p> - -<p>“Somebody was here last night,” said Rob, inspecting -the ashes in the stone fire pit. “Look, they -are still wet. Soused their fire, all right.”</p> - -<p>“And left a bed of boughs—for two,” added Peanut, -peeping into the shelter.</p> - -<p>“Let’s leave our stuff, so we’ll have first call on -the cabin to-night,” somebody else put in. “Will it -be safe, though?”</p> - -<p>“Sure,” the Scout Master said—“safe from people, -anyhow. The folks who tramp up here are honest, -I guess. But I don’t trust the hedgehogs too -far. The last time I slept in Tuckerman’s, five or -six years ago, two of us camped out on the shore of -Hermit Lake, and the hedgehogs ate holes in our -rubber ponchos while we slept.”</p> - -<p>“Say, you must have slept hard—and done some -dreaming!” laughed Peanut.</p> - -<p>“Fact,” said Mr. Rogers; “cross my heart, hope -to die!”</p> - -<p>“Well, then let’s hang our blankets over this -string,” said Art, indicating a stout cord strung near -the roof from the two sides of the shelter.</p> - -<p>They hung their blankets over the cord, stacked -their packs in a corner, and set off up the trail toward -the head wall of the ravine, nearly a mile away.</p> - -<p>A few steps brought them to a sight of Hermit -Lake, a pretty little sheet of water which looked almost -black, it was so shallow and clear, with dark -leaf-mould forming the bottom. It was entirely surrounded -by the dark spires of the mountain spruces, -and held their reflections like a mirror, and behind -them the reflections of the great rocky walls of the -ravine sides, and then the blue of the sky.</p> - -<p>The path now began to ascend the inclined floor -of the ravine, and the full grandeur of the spectacle -burst upon the boys. Even Peanut was silent. It -was the most impressive spot they had ever been in.</p> - -<p>To their left the cliffs shot up a thousand feet to -Boott Spur, to their right they went up almost as -high to the Lion’s Head. And directly in front of -them, curved in a semicircle, like the wall of a stadium, -and carved out of the solid rock of the mountain, -was the great head wall, in the half shadow at -its base a huge snow-bank glimmering white, on the -tenth day of July. Above the snow-bank the rocks -glistened and sparkled with hundreds of tiny water -streams. All about, at the feet of the cliffs, and even -down the floor of the ravine to the boys, lay piled up -in wild confusion great heaps of rock masses, the -debris hurled down from the precipitous walls by -centuries of frost and storm.</p> - -<p>“It looks like a gigantic natural colosseum,” said -Lou. “The head wall is curved just like the pictures -of the Colosseum in our Roman history.”</p> - -<p>“Right-o,” cried Peanut. “Say, what a place to -stage a gladiator fight, eh? Sit your audience all -up on the debris at the bottoms of the cliffs.”</p> - -<p>“And have your gladiators come out from under -the snow arch,” laughed Mr. Rogers.</p> - -<p>“Sure,” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>They now came to the snow arch, which is formed -every June under the head wall, and sometimes lasts -as late as August. The winter storms, from the -northwest, blow the snow over Bigelow Lawn above, -and pack it down into Tuckerman’s Ravine, in a -huge drift two hundred feet deep. This drift gradually -melts down, packs into something pretty close -to ice, and the water trickling from the cliff behind -joins into a brook beneath it and hollows out an -arch.</p> - -<p>The Scouts now stood before the drift. It was perhaps -eight or ten feet deep at the front now, and a good -deal deeper at the back. It was something like three -hundred feet wide, they reckoned, and extended out -from the cliff from sixty to a hundred feet. The arch -was about in the centre, and the brook was flowing -out from beneath it.</p> - -<p>“Look!” cried Art, “a few rods down-stream the -alders are all in leaf, nearer they are just coming -out, and here by the edge they are hardly budded!”</p> - -<p>“That’s right,” said Lou. “I suppose as the ice -melts back, spring comes to ’em.”</p> - -<p>Rob put his hand in the brook. “Gee, I don’t -blame ’em,” he said; “it’s free ice water, all right.”</p> - -<p>“Come on into the ice cave,” Peanut exclaimed, -starting forward.</p> - -<p>Mr. Rogers grabbed him. “No, you don’t!” he -cried. “People used to do that, till one day some -years ago it caved in, and killed a boy under it. -You’ll just look in.”</p> - -<p>Peanut poked at the edge of the roof with his -staff. It looked like snow, but it was hard as ice. -“Gee, that won’t cave in!” said he.</p> - -<p>“Just the same, we’re taking no chances,” said -the Scout Master.</p> - -<p>So the Scouts tried to content themselves with -peeking into the cold, crystal cave, out of which -came the tinkle of dripping water from the dangling -icicles on the roof, and a breath of damp, chilling -air. It was like standing at the door of a huge -refrigerator.</p> - -<p>Then they climbed up the path a few steps, on the -right of the drift, and made snowballs with the -brittle, mushy moraine-stuff on the surface, which -was quite dirty, with moss and rock dust blown over -from the top of Washington.</p> - -<p>“Snowballs in July!” cried Peanut, letting one -fly at Art, who had walked out on the drift.</p> - -<p>Art retaliated by washing Peanut’s face.</p> - -<p>It was getting close to noon now, and the party -started back to camp. Hermit Lake was first inspected -as a possible swimming pool, but given up -because of the boggy nature of the shores. Instead, -everybody took one chill plunge in the ice water of -the little river which came down from the snow arch, -and then they rubbed themselves to a pink glow, -and started for the camp. Before they reached -camp, Art sniffed, and said, “Smoke! Somebody’s -got a fire.”</p> - -<p>A second later, they heard voices, and came upon -two men, building a fire against the boulder in front -of the shelter.</p> - -<p>“Hello, boys. This your stuff?” one of the men -said. He was a tall, thin man, with colored goggles -and a pointed beard. The other man was short and -stout.</p> - -<p>“Sure is,” Peanut answered.</p> - -<p>“Well, we’re going on after lunch. Won’t bother -you to-night,” the men said. “Don’t mind our -being here for lunch, do you?”</p> - -<p>“Depends on what you’ve got to eat,” said Peanut, -with a laugh.</p> - -<p>“Not much,” the tall man answered. “Enough -for two men, but not enough for a huge person like -yourself.”</p> - -<p>Peanut grinned, as the laugh was on him, and the -boys set about getting their lunch ready, also.</p> - -<p>The two newcomers had come up from Jackson -that morning, they said, and were bound for the top -of Washington via the head wall of Huntington -Ravine. They spoke as if the head wall of Huntington -were something not lightly to be tackled, and of -course the boys were curious at once.</p> - -<p>“Where’s Huntington?” asked Art. “Mr. Rogers, -you’ve never told us about that.”</p> - -<p>“I never was there myself,” said Mr. Rogers. “I -can’t have been <i>everywhere</i>, you know.”</p> - -<p>“Well, neither have I been there,” said the tall, -thin man, “but my friend here has, once, and he -alleges that it’s the best climb in the White Mountains.”</p> - -<p>“Hooray, let us go, too!” cried Peanut.</p> - -<p>Mr. Rogers smiled. “We’ll go along with these -gentlemen, if they don’t mind, and have a look at -it,” he said, “but I guess we’ll leave the climbing to -them. I don’t believe I want to lug any of you boys -home on a stretcher.”</p> - -<p>“Aw, stretcher nothin’!” said Peanut. “I guess -if other folks climb there, we can!”</p> - -<p>The short, stout man’s eyes twinkled. “Maybe -when you see it you won’t be so keen,” he said. -“Come along with us and have a look.”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">Up the Huntington Head Wall</p> - -<p>Luncheon over, the two men packed their -knapsacks again, while Art put some dehydrated -spinach in a pot to soak for supper. He -covered the pot carefully, and stood it in the ashes -of the fire, where it would get the heat from the -rock, even though the fire was put out. Then falling -into line behind the two men, the boys and Mr. -Rogers started off, apparently going backward away -from the mountain down the path toward Crystal -Cascades and the Glen road.</p> - -<p>“We just came up here,” the tall man said. -“Came out of our way a bit to see the shelter camp, -as I want to build one like it near my home.”</p> - -<p>“So do we,” said the Scouts.</p> - -<p>The two men walked very fast, so that the boys -had hard work to keep up with them. They were -evidently trained mountain climbers. After half a -mile of descent, they swung to the left, by the Raymond -Path, and after a quarter of a mile of travel -toward the northeast, they swung still again to the -left, up the Huntington Ravine Trail, and headed -back almost directly at right angles, toward the -northwest, where the cone of Washington was, -though it could not be seen. The path now ascended -again, rather rapidly, and the Scouts puffed along -behind the tall man and his stout companion, who -walked just about as fast up-hill as they did down.</p> - -<p>“Say!” called Peanut, “is there a fire in the -ravine?”</p> - -<p>The tall man laughed. “Sure,” he said. “Four -alarms!”</p> - -<p>A mile or more of climbing brought them into the -ravine. It was not so large as Tuckerman’s, and it -had no lake embosomed in its rocky depths, but in -some ways it was an even wilder and more impressive -spot. On the right, to the east, the cliff wall -rose up much steeper than in Tuckerman’s, to -Nelson’s Crag. On the west, also, the wall was almost -perpendicular, while the jagged and uneven -head wall, which did not form the beautiful amphitheatre -curve of Tuckerman’s head wall, and had no -snow arch at its base, looked far harder to climb.</p> - -<p>“Wow!” said Peanut. “You win. I don’t want -to climb here.”</p> - -<p>“Why, it’s easy. You can climb where other -folks have,” said the stout man, with a wink. “Folks -have climbed all three of these cliffs.”</p> - -<p>“That one to the left?” asked Peanut.</p> - -<p>“Sure,” said the man.</p> - -<p>“What with, an aeroplane?”</p> - -<p>“With hobnail boots,” said the other.</p> - -<p>“I guess they had pretty good teeth and finger -nails, also,” Frank put in.</p> - -<p>A half mile more, and the trail ended at a great -mass of debris and broken rocks piled up in the shape -of a fan at the base of the head wall.</p> - -<p>“This is called the Fan,” said the stout man. -“Here’s where the job begins. Goodbye, boys.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, let’s go up a way!” cried Art. “If they can -do it, we can.”</p> - -<p>“Sure,” said Peanut, as he saw the two men begin -to climb carefully over the broken fragments of the -Fan.</p> - -<p>“Oh, please!” the rest cried.</p> - -<p>“Well, just a short way,” Mr. Rogers reluctantly -consented, “if you’ll agree to come down when I -give the order. We have no ropes, and we are none -of us used to rock climbing. I won’t take the risk. -If we had ropes and proper spiked staffs, it would be -different.”</p> - -<p>The Scouts, with a shout, started up behind the -two men, who had now ceased their rapid walking, -and were going very slowly and carefully. The -boys soon found out why. The footing on the rocky -debris of the Fan was extremely treacherous, and you -had to keep your eyes on every step, and test your -footing.</p> - -<p>About fifty yards before the top of the Fan was -reached, the two climbers ahead turned to the right, -and made their way along a shelf on the ledge which -they called a “lead,” toward a patch of scrub. One -by one, the boys followed them, using extreme caution -on the narrow shelf. At the patch of scrub, they -could look on up the head wall, and see that the mass -of rocks which made the Fan had been brought down -by frost and water in a landslide from the top, and -made a gully all the way to the summit. To climb -the wall, you had to use this gully. It looked quite -hopeless, but the stout man started right up, the tall -man following him, zigzagging from one lead, or -shelf, to another. The boys followed.</p> - -<p>“Gee,” said Peanut, “wish it hadn’t rained so -lately. These rocks are slippery. And I don’t like -walking with the ground in my face all the time.”</p> - -<p>“I think it’s fun,” said Art.</p> - -<p>“Me, too,” said Frank. “But I don’t like to look -back, though.”</p> - -<p>They followed two or three leads up the gully, till -they were perhaps a hundred or a hundred and fifty -feet above the floor of the ravine below. Then Mr. -Rogers, looking up, saw Peanut, in the lead, looking -about for the next lead, and, after finding it, trying -with his short legs to straddle the gap between it -and the spot where he stood. His foot slipped, and -if Art hadn’t been firmly braced right behind him, so -that he threw his shoulder under, Peanut would have -fallen off.</p> - -<p>“Here’s where we stop!” said the Scout -Master.</p> - -<p>Peanut was rather white with the sudden shock of -slipping. Still, he looked longingly up the gully, -toward the two climbers above, and said, “Aw, no, -let’s go on a little further!”</p> - -<p>“Not a step—remember your promise,” Mr. -Rogers declared.</p> - -<p>The boys turned reluctantly, and started down. -They found it far harder than going up. Going up, -you didn’t see that almost sheer drop below you. -But going the other way, you had to see it at every -step, and it made you constantly realize how easy it -would be to fall.</p> - -<p>Lou grew very pale, and paused on a wide bit of -shelf. “I’m dizzy,” he said. “Let me stand here a -minute. I can’t help it. Makes me dizzy to look -down.”</p> - -<p>Frank was directly in front of him below.</p> - -<p>“You keep braced after every step, Frank,” said -the Scout Master, “and let Lou take his next step to -you each time before you take another. Better now, -Lou? You’ll be all right. Just keep your eye on -your feet, and don’t look off.”</p> - -<p>They started down once more, and after at least -fifteen minutes reached the Fan in safety and then -the floor of the ravine. Lou sat down immediately -looking, as Peanut said, “some seasick.”</p> - -<p>“I guess I was never cut out for rock climbing,” -poor Lou declared. “I wouldn’t have gone, and -worried you, Mr. Rogers, if I’d known it would make -me dizzy like that.”</p> - -<p>“You’d probably get used to it,” the Scout Master -answered, “but I guess we’ll not experiment any -more just now, where there’s no path. Look, our -friends are almost up.”</p> - -<p>The boys, who had forgotten the two men, turned -and saw them far above, working carefully toward -the summit of the wall. They shouted, and waved -their hats, and the men waved back, though the -Scouts could hear no voices.</p> - -<p>“Gee, and folks have climbed those side walls, -too, eh?” said Peanut. “Believe me, real mountain -climbing is some work!”</p> - -<p>“It is, surely,” Mr. Rogers said. “But in the -Alps, of course, people go roped together, and if -one falls, the rest brace and the rope holds him. -How would you like to climb that gully if it was -all ice and snow instead of rock, and you had to -cut steps all the way with an ice ax, for ten thousand -feet?”</p> - -<p>“Say, there’d have to be a pretty big pile of -twenty dollar gold pieces waiting at the top,” answered -Peanut.</p> - -<p>“Oh, get out,” said Art. “That isn’t what makes -folks climb such places. It’s the fun of getting -where nobody ever got before—just saying, ‘You -old cliff, you can’t stump me!’ isn’t it, Mr. -Rogers?”</p> - -<p>“About that, I guess,” the Scout Master replied. -“There’s some fascination about mountain climbing -which makes men risk their lives at it all over the -globe, every year, on cliffs beside which this one -would look like a canoe beside the Mauretania. I’m -glad we’ve had a taste of real climbing this afternoon, -anyhow, to see what it’s like. Look, the -men have reached the top, and are waving good-bye.”</p> - -<p>The boys waved back, and as the men disappeared -from sight, they themselves moved slowly down the -trail, toward the Raymond Path, looking up with a -new respect at the walls on either side, and speculating -how they could be climbed. Consulting the -Appalachian Mountain Club guide book, they found -no description of how to get up the west wall, but -the ascent of the eastern wall, to Nelson’s Crag, -which was called “the most interesting rock climb -in the White Mountains,” was described briefly. -The Scouts easily identified the gully up which the -ascent must be made, but nobody seemed very eager -to make it.</p> - -<p>“No, sir,” said Peanut, “not for me, till I’ve had -more practice on cliff work, and have bigger hobnails -in my shoes, and can keep right on up.”</p> - -<p>“Still,” said Frank, “people who go up places -like that in the Alps have to come down again.”</p> - -<p>“Sure they do,” Peanut replied, “but they’re -used to it. The older I grow, the more I realize -it doesn’t pay to tackle a job till you’re up to it.”</p> - -<p>“Hear Grandpa talk!” laughed Frank. “You’d -think he was fifty-three.”</p> - -<p>“He’s talking horse sense, though,” the Scout -Master put in. “When we get home, we’ll go over -to the cliffs on Monument Mountain some day, with -a rope, and get some practice. As a matter of fact, -those cliffs, though they are only two hundred feet -high, are steeper than these here, and you haven’t -any gully to go up, either. We’ll get some Alpine -work right at home.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll stay at the bottom, and catch you when you -fall off,” said Lou, with a rather crooked smile. -“Gee, to think I’d go dizzy like a girl!”</p> - -<p>“Forget it, Lou,” Peanut cheered him. “’Twasn’t -your fault, any more’n getting seasick.”</p> - -<p>The afternoon shadows were all across Tuckerman’s -Ravine when the boys once more reached the -camp. It was not yet five o’clock, and out behind -them the green summits of Carter and Wildcat and -Moriah across the Glen, and all the peaks to the -south and east, were bathed in full sunlight; but -down in the great hole of the ravine the shadow of -Boott Spur had risen half-way up the east wall -toward the Lion’s Head, and it seemed like twilight.</p> - -<p>“Makes me want supper,” Frank laughed.</p> - -<p>“I got an idea,” said Peanut. “Let’s take a loaf. -Let’s just sit around the camp-fire till supper, and do -nothing.”</p> - -<p>“Let’s cut our mileage on our staffs,” said Art.</p> - -<p>“Hooray!”</p> - -<p>Somebody lit the fire, for already the twilight -chill was creeping down from the snow-bank, and -Art put the pot of dehydrated spinach on to simmer. -Then everybody got out his knife and cut mileage.</p> - -<p>“Only nine miles for yesterday!” said Art. “And -think of the work we did.”</p> - -<p>“One mile against that hurricane is about equal to -fifteen on the level, I guess,” said Peanut. “Shall -we call it eight plus fifteen?”</p> - -<p>“You can, if you want to be a nature fakir,” Rob -answered. “What’s the total to-day? Who’s got -the guide book?”</p> - -<p>“Let’s see,” said Frank, turning the pages. “Two -miles from the summit to the Lakes of the Clouds, -half a mile back to Boott Spur Trail, from the junction -with the Crawford Path over the spur to here, two -and a half miles—that’s five. Then from here to the -snow arch and back, one and a half—six and a half. -Then a quarter of a mile to Raymond Path, half a -mile to Huntington Trail, two miles to the Fan; -double it and you get five miles and a half. That -makes twelve miles, not counting our climb of the -head wall, or what we’ll do later to-day.”</p> - -<p>“Guess we’ll not do much more,” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>“Sure, we’ll walk up the ravine and see the snow -arch by moonlight. Add a mile and a half more,” -said Art. “Grand total, thirteen and a half. Golly, -you can get fairly tired doing thirteen miles on Mount -Washington, can’t you?”</p> - -<p>“And tolerably hungry,” said Frank. “That -spinach smells good to me.”</p> - -<p>“We’re going to have bacon, and an omelet, and -spinach, and tea, and flapjacks,” said Art. “Doesn’t -that sound good?”</p> - -<p>“Well, go ahead and get ’em ready,” Peanut -said, flopping backward upon the old hemlock -boughs in the shelter, and immediately closing his -eyes.</p> - -<p>Nobody did nor said much for the next hour. -There came one of those lazy lulls which hit you once -in so often when you are tramping, and you just -naturally lie back and take life easy, half asleep, half -awake. It was half-past five, and getting dusky in -the ravine, when suddenly a hermit thrush in the firs -right behind the cabin emitted a peal of song, so -startling in its nearness and beauty that every one of -the six dozers roused with a start.</p> - -<p>“Say, that’s some Caruso!” exclaimed Peanut. -He rubbed his eyes, and added, “What’s the matter -with you, Art? Where’s supper? You’re -fired!”</p> - -<p>Art laughed, and jumped out of the shelter, giving -orders as he went.</p> - -<p>“Water, Lou. Rob and Frank, more wood. -Peanut, you lazy stiff, get out the bacon and light -the lantern. Mr. Rogers, more boughs for the -beds.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir,” the others laughed, as they scattered -quickly on their errands.</p> - -<p>It was dark when supper was ready, and outside -of the cozy shelter of the cabin and the great boulder -facing it, with the fire burning briskly, it was cold. -The boys had all put on their sweaters. But the -boulder threw the warmth of the fire back under the -lean-to, and they sat along the edge of it, their -plates on their laps, the fragrance of new steeped tea -in their nostrils, and of sizzling bacon, and made a -meal which tasted like ambrosia. The spinach was -an especial luxury, for this time it had soaked long -enough to be soft and palatable. Their only regret -was that Art hadn’t cooked more of it.</p> - -<p>“Let’s soak some over night, and have it for -breakfast,” Peanut suggested, amid hoots of derision -from the rest.</p> - -<p>“We’ll have fresh bread, though,” said Art. “I’m -going to bake some in a tin box somebody has left -here in a corner of the hut.”</p> - -<p>“How’ll you make bread without yeast?” asked -Rob.</p> - -<p>Art produced a little sack of baking powder from -his pack. “With this, and powdered milk, and -powdered egg,” he answered. “You make me up a -good fire of coals, and I’ll show you.”</p> - -<p>He mixed the dough while the rest were clearing -up the supper things, greased his tin box (after it -had been thoroughly washed with boiling water) -with bacon fat, and put the dough in to rise. “I’ll -leave it half an hour to raise,” he said, “and go with -you fellows up to see the snow arch. Then I’ve got -to come back and bake it.”</p> - -<p>It was moonlight when they set out for the head of -the ravine, but the light was not strong enough to -make the path easy, nor to take away the sense of -gigantic black shadows towering up where the walls -ought to be. Peanut tried shouting, to get an echo, -but his voice sounded so small and foolish in this -great, yawning hole of shadows in the mountainside, -that he grinned rather sheepishly, and shut up.</p> - -<p>The “baby glacier,” as Rob called the snow-drift, -was like a white shadow at the foot of the head wall. -They could hear the brook tinkling beneath it, but -not so loud as by day. When the sun goes down, -the melting stops to a very considerable extent. -And it was very cold near the icy bank. The boys -shivered, and turned back toward camp.</p> - -<p>“We’ll go with you, Art, and see you bake that -bread,” said Rob.</p> - -<p>But they didn’t. While Art went on, the rest -made a side trip in to Hermit Lake, to see the -reflections of the moon and stars in the glassy water. -Not one, but a dozen hermit thrushes were singing -now in the thickets of fir. It was lonesome, and -cold, but very beautiful here, and the bird songs rang -out like fairy clarions.</p> - -<p>“This is as lonely as the Lake of the Dismal -Swamp,” Rob remarked, “and as beautiful.”</p> - -<p>“It’s a heap sight colder, though,” said Peanut, -shivering.</p> - -<p>Back in camp, they found Art with his tin of bread -dough propped on edge in front of a great bed -of coals, with coals banked behind it and on the -sides. The others kicked off their shoes and stockings, -put on their heavy night socks, rolled up in -their blankets under the lean-to, and, propped upon -their elbows, watched Art tending his bread, while -they talked in low tones.</p> - -<p>One by one the voices died away to silence. -Finally Rob and Mr. Rogers were the only ones -awake. Then Mr. Rogers asked Rob a question, -and got no answer. He smiled.</p> - -<p>“Well, Art,” he said, “all the rest seem to think -you can get that bread baked without their help. I -guess I can trust you, too. Good-night.”</p> - -<p>“Good-night,” said Art. “They’ll be glad to eat -it in the morning, though!”</p> - -<p>But Mr. Rogers didn’t reply.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">The Giant’s Bedclothes</p> - -<p>Everybody was awake early the next morning, -and glad to get up, for Tuckerman’s -Ravine can be very cold, even in mid-July, and all -the boys had huddled together unconsciously in the -night, for mutual warmth. Art’s suggestion that -they take a morning dip in the waters of the Cutler -River wasn’t hailed with much enthusiasm.</p> - -<p>“You know, it doesn’t get exactly <i>warm</i> in the -mile between here and where it comes out of the -snow arch,” said Frank, with a shiver.</p> - -<p>“I want a bath, all right,” said Peanut, “but I -don’t want a refrigerator for a bathroom and ice -water in the tub. I’m no polar bear. Let’s wait till -we get to some other brook.”</p> - -<p>“Gee, you’re a set of cold-foot Scouts!” Art -taunted.</p> - -<p>“And we don’t want ’em any colder,” laughed -Lou.</p> - -<p>“Why don’t <i>you</i> go for a bath, Art?” asked Rob.</p> - -<p>“It’s no fun all alone,” Art replied, rather sheepishly, -while the rest laughed.</p> - -<p>The sun was not yet up as they got breakfast -ready, and the valley behind them and the ravine -ahead were full of white mist. Only the rocky -pinnacle of the Lion’s Head to their right, and the -cliffs of Boott Spur to the left stood up above the -vapor. The coffee smelled good in the cold air, and -Peanut toasted a great piece of Art’s bread, and -varied his breakfast by making himself scrambled -eggs on toast as a special treat. They broke camp -as the sun was rising, and by the time they had -climbed into the floor of the ravine the shadow of -the Lion’s Head was beginning to climb down the -cliffs of Boott Spur, and in Pinkham Notch behind -them they could see the billows of white mist tossing -and stirring, Lou said exactly as if a giant was sleeping -underneath, and tossing his bedclothes.</p> - -<p>“That’s how Winthrop Packard, the bird expert, -once described it,” said Mr. Rogers.</p> - -<p>When they reached the snow arch, the path swung -to the right, and ascended a pile of debris which had -come down from the cliffs above. When the path -had surmounted the arch, it turned to the left, and -passed under the overhanging cliffs at the top of the -head wall. It was very steep and rough, and at one -point was covered with snow, or, rather, snow packed -into ice. Here the going was extremely treacherous, -and the party moved slowly, with the utmost caution, -using the staffs on every step. But they got -past without accident, and soon found themselves at -the top of the wall. At the top was a long sloping -“lawn,” leading to the summit cone, the “lawn” -consisting of grasses and flowers and moss between -the gray stones. They were in full morning -sunlight for a few moments, and every stone on the -summit pyramid stood out sharp against the sky. -But all the world below them, except the tops of the -surrounding mountains, was buried under the white -vapor.</p> - -<p>“Above the clouds!” cried Peanut.</p> - -<p>“But not for long,” said Art. “Lou’s giant is -picking up his bedclothes and coming after us!”</p> - -<p>Sure enough, as they looked back, they saw the -white mist rising from Pinkham Notch, sucking in -through Tuckerman’s Ravine, and seeming to follow -them up the path. Already a wisp was curling over -Boott Spur and drifting slowly across the lawn.</p> - -<p>“Ding it!” cried Peanut, “is it never clear on -this old mountain? I’m getting so I hate clouds. -This path is none too easy to find as it is.”</p> - -<p>“Well, let’s keep ahead of the giant, then,” Mr. -Rogers said.</p> - -<p>They walked on more rapidly, noting that the wind -was actually from the north, a gentle breeze, just -strong enough to hold the rising vapors back and -let them keep ahead. Presently their path crossed -a dim trail which seemed to come from Boott Spur -and lead northeastward toward the Chandler Ridge. -It was the Six Husbands’ Trail.</p> - -<p>“Hooray, here’s old Six Husbands,” cried Peanut. -“I sure want to go over it, and also know where it -got its name.”</p> - -<p>“Where does it go to, anyhow?” somebody else -asked.</p> - -<p>They stopped for a moment to trace the trail on -the map, finding that it started at Boott Spur, skirted -the cone of Washington on the south and east, -dipped into the bottom of the Great Gulf, and ascended -the shoulder of Jefferson, ending on the peak -of that mountain.</p> - -<p>“The last two miles up Jefferson must be some -climb!” Art cried, looking at the contour intervals—“right -up like the wall of a house!”</p> - -<p>“Let’s take it!” shouted Peanut.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps we can take it, out of the Gulf,” Mr. -Rogers answered. “But now we’ve got to get to -the Tip Top House. Don’t you want your copies of -<i>Above the Clouds</i>?”</p> - -<p>“Gosh, I’d forgotten them,” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>They resumed the climb, and were soon traveling -more slowly, up the steep summit cone. They could -not see the top, and they could see nothing below -them because of the following mists. The path was -merely a dim trail amid the wild, piled up confusion -of broken rocks. Before they reached the end of it -too, the clouds had reached them, and they made the -last few hundred yards enveloped in the giant’s bedclothes.</p> - -<p>“Bet he was damp in ’em, too,” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>The coach house and barn burst upon them suddenly, -out of the fog.</p> - -<p>The boys rushed at once up the steps to the Tip -Top House, secured their copies of <i>Above the Clouds</i>, -and read Rob’s account of the storm, which the editor -had cut down till it was only half what Rob had -written, much to everybody’s indignation. While -they were reading the paper, buying sweet chocolate -and sending post-cards home, the clouds thinned out -on the summit, and when, at eight o’clock, they -again stepped out-of-doors, there seemed to be every -prospect of a splendid day, with a gentle northerly -wind to cool the air.</p> - -<p>“Now, our objective point is the Madison Hut, -over there to the northeast at the base of the summit -cone of Madison,” said Mr. Rogers. “We’ll spend -the night in the hut, and go down the next day to -Randolph, through King’s Ravine, and catch a train -home. There are two ways of getting there. One -is to go over the Gulf Side Trail, along the summit -ridge of the north peaks, the other, and much the -harder way, is to descend into the Great Gulf and -climb up again, either by the Six Husbands’ Trail, -the Adams Slide Trail, or the trail up Madison from -the Glen House.”</p> - -<p>“Me for old Six Husbands!” cried Peanut.</p> - -<p>“I want to go along the tops,” said Lou, “where -you can see off all the time.”</p> - -<p>“So do I,” said Frank.</p> - -<p>“I’m for Peanut and the Six Husbands,” said Art.</p> - -<p>“Suppose we split for the day,” Rob suggested. -“I’ll go with one half, and you go with the other, -Mr. Rogers.”</p> - -<p>The Scout Master looked at the sky and the horizon. -The day held every promise of fine weather, -and he assented. “All right,” he said, “I’ll take -Lou and Frank over the north peaks, and you take -the others down the head wall of the Gulf, past -Spaulding Lake and the Gulf camp, to the Six Husbands’ -Trail, and then come directly up that to the -Gulf Side Trail near the cone of Jefferson. When -you reach the Gulf Side Trail, if the weather is clear, -leave your packs by the path, and go on up to the -top of Jefferson and signal to us. We’ll be waiting -on the top of Adams, at four o’clock. If it’s not -clear, come right along the Gulf Side to the hut.”</p> - -<p>“Hooray! Signaling from one mountain peak -to another! That’s going some!” cried Peanut.</p> - -<p>“But why wait till four?” asked Art. “According -to the map, we haven’t more than eight miles to -go, half of it down-hill.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Rogers smiled, “We’ll leave it at four -o’clock, though,” he answered. “If you think you -can beat that schedule, all right. Maybe we’ll be on -Adams earlier.”</p> - -<p>The party now went down the steps to the carriage -road, and swung along down that for a quarter -of a mile. Then they turned off to the left by the -Gulf Side Trail, and walking over the rough stones -with grass between drew near the head wall of the -Great Gulf. Soon they were at it. The Great Gulf -is a gigantic ravine between the huge eastern shoulder -of Mount Washington, called the Chandler -Ridge, and the three northern peaks of Madison, -Adams and Jefferson. Mount Clay, the fourth of -the north peaks, and the one next to Washington, -is almost a part of the head wall of the Gulf. -The Gulf sides are very precipitous, and as the boys -looked across it to the shoulder of Jefferson, where -the Six Husbands’ Trail ascends, Lou and Frank -began to laugh.</p> - -<p>“Glad <i>we</i> haven’t got to climb that to-day!” they -cried.</p> - -<p>“Lazy stiffs,” said Peanut. “What’s that! A -mere nothing!” But he grinned dubiously, even as -he spoke.</p> - -<p>“Well, we’re in for it now,” said Rob, “so come -on.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I’m coming,” Peanut replied.</p> - -<p>“Now, Rob, one last word,” said the Scout Master. -“I’m giving you the map. Follow the trails agreed -on, and promise me not to leave ’em, even for a -dozen feet. You are entering unknown country, and -dangerous country. Go straight down past the Gulf -camp, and you’ll pick up the Six Husbands about a -quarter of a mile below—maybe less. Goodbye. -Signal, if clear, when you get to Jefferson. If worst -comes to worst, go back to the Gulf camp, or if you -are on the range, go to the shelter hut just east of -Jefferson, on the Adams-Jefferson col.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Rogers, Lou and Frank waved their hands as -they watched the other three plunge over the edge -of the head wall, and begin to descend the two thousand -feet of precipitous rock pile which dropped down -to where Spaulding Lake lay like a mirror amid the -trees at the bottom of the Great Gulf. Then they -shouldered packs again, and set out toward the three -summits of Clay, just ahead of them, the first stage -of their journey over the north peaks to the Madison -Hut. The morning was clear and fine now, and they -could see for miles upon miles out over green valleys -and far blue mountains, while the rocky pyramids of -Jefferson, Adams and Madison ahead of them, rising -about five hundred feet above the connecting cols, -seemed near enough, almost, to hit with a stone, -though actually the nearest, Jefferson, was two miles -away.</p> - -<p>“We’ve got nearly all day for a six mile hike,” the -Scout Master said. “Let’s take it easy and enjoy -the view.”</p> - -<p>So we will leave them climbing slowly up the slope -of Clay, and descend the Gulf with Rob, Art and -Peanut.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">With Rob, Art and Peanut Into the Great -Gulf</p> - -<p>Rob, Art and Peanut were making time down -the head wall, but they were also using up shoe -leather, for the wall of the Great Gulf is composed -of innumerable loose stones, often of a shaly nature, -with sharp edges, which turn under the foot. The -head wall trail, too, because of its steepness, is not -so much used as many others, and at times the -Scouts had some difficulty in keeping it. It grew -warmer as they descended out of the breeze into the -still air of the Gulf, and, as Peanut said, his forehead -was starting another brook. They reached timber -line in a short time, and before long were in the -woods beside Spaulding Lake, where in spite of the -leaf-mould on the bottom they paused long enough -to strip and have a quick bath in the cold water, -which was, however, warm by contrast with some of -the brooks they had tried. Then they resumed the -trail down the floor of the Gulf, beside the head -waters of the Peabody River. The path was rough, -full of roots and wet places, and it descended constantly, -with waterfalls beside it, and through openings -in the trees here and there glimpses of the great -cliff walls of Jefferson and Adams to the left. The -thrushes were singing all about them, and they came -upon several deer tracks, and once upon the mark of -a bear’s paw in the mud. They kept looking, too, -for the Gulf camp, but it did not appear.</p> - -<p>“Say, this old trail is longer than I thought,” said -Peanut, “or else there isn’t any Gulf camp.”</p> - -<p>At last, however, after nearly an hour’s tramping -from Spaulding Lake, they saw smoke through the -trees ahead, and came upon the camp, which was a -lean-to like that in Tuckerman’s, with the opening -placed close up against the perpendicular wall of a -big boulder, to throw the heat of the fire back into -the shelter.</p> - -<p>Two young men, badly in need of shaves, were -cooking breakfast.</p> - -<p>“Hello, Scouts,” they said.</p> - -<p>“Lunching early, aren’t you?” asked Rob.</p> - -<p>The men laughed. “This is breakfast,” they said. -“We decided to-day to have a good sleep, and we -did, all right—thirteen hours! Came over Crawford’s -and down the head wall yesterday. Going -out to Carter’s Notch to-day. Where are you -going?”</p> - -<p>“We are bound up the Six Husbands to the Madison -Hut,” the boys answered.</p> - -<p>The two men whistled. “Well, good luck to you,” -they said. “But glad we’re not going with you!”</p> - -<p>“Why?” Peanut demanded.</p> - -<p>“Because it goes right up the shoulder of Jefferson. -Have you seen the shoulder of Jefferson?”</p> - -<p>“Sure,” said Art. “What of it?”</p> - -<p>“Well, if you <i>had</i> to work as hard as that, you’d -make an awful fuss!” one of the men laughed.</p> - -<p>“You talk just like my father,” said Peanut. -“Why is it called the Six Husbands’ Trail—if you -know so much about it?” he added.</p> - -<p>“Search me,” the man replied, “unless because -it would take six husbands to get a woman up -there.”</p> - -<p>The boys laughed, and went on their way. They -soon came to the trail itself, and struck up the Six -Husbands at last, headed directly for the cliffs of -Jefferson and Adams, which seemed to be towering -over their heads.</p> - -<p>“It <i>does</i> look like a job, and no mistake!” cried -Peanut.</p> - -<p>“Well, if somebody can put a trail up it, we can -follow ’em, I guess,” cried Art. “This is something -like mountain climbing!”</p> - -<p>But for half a mile the trail didn’t ascend much. -It followed up a brook, and seemed to be headed for -the ravine between Adams and Jefferson. Presently -they came to a fork in the trail, where the Adams -Slide Trail branched off to the east. Here there was -a spring, labeled Great Spring on the map, where -they filled their canteens, and taking the left fork, -the Six Husbands, began at last the real ascent of -Jefferson. There was no longer any doubt about its -being an ascent, either. The map showed that from -the Great Spring to the crossing of the Gulf Side -Trail at the summit cone of the mountain was little -over a mile, but that mile, as Peanut said, was stood -up on end. They plugged away for a while, toiling -upward, weighted down with their packs and blankets, -which had increased in weight at least fifty per -cent. since morning, and then decided to eat lunch -before the fuel gave out.</p> - -<p>It was hard work chopping up fire-wood from the -tough, aged, and gnarled stumps of the dwarf spruces -which alone could grow on this cliff side, but they -got a blaze at last, and made tea and cooked some -bacon—the last they had. It was one o’clock before -they were through, and Rob, seeing that Peanut -was pretty tired and Art pretty sleepy, ordered a -rest for an hour. They spread out their blankets -and lay down, in a spot where there was the least -danger of rolling off, and soon the two younger boys -were fast asleep.</p> - -<p>Rob didn’t go to sleep. He watched an eagle -sailing on still wings out over the Gulf, and presently, -to his consternation, he saw a thin wisp of -vapor curling around the ridges far above on -Adams. Southwestward, the slopes of Washington -were clear, but there was surely cloud coming above -them, and they on a little used trail, without Mr. -Rogers! Rob’s heart went suddenly down into his -boots, and he felt a cold sweat come. Then he -pulled himself together.</p> - -<p>“Fool!” he half whispered. “If we keep on up, -we are bound to hit the Gulf Side Trail. And didn’t -Mr. Rogers say that if you kept cool you were much -better off? Brace up, old Scout!”</p> - -<p>He waited till his heart had stopped thumping, -and then he waked the other two.</p> - -<p>“We’ve got to be climbing again,” he said; -“there’s a cloud coming over Adams.”</p> - -<p>“Say, there’s always a cloud coming, seems to -me,” said Peanut. “Well, come on then. Gee, I -was having a good sleep!”</p> - -<p>The three boys rolled up their blankets, and resumed -the trail, first taking a good look at the map -and fixing the compass direction. The clouds were -now plainly visible above them, both around the -tops of Adams, Madison and Jefferson, and evidently -over on Clay, too. But behind them, across the -Gulf, Chandler Ridge was in clear sun, and they -could see a motor car going up the carriage road, -and even hear a faint cough from its exhaust.</p> - -<p>“This is no storm, it’s evidently just a wandering -cloud,” said Rob. “But we’d better make all the -distance we can in clear going.”</p> - -<p>They toiled upward for a full hour, almost hand -over hand in places, with the cloud still above them -and the Gulf clear below, before they got into the -under curtain of the vapor, and began to have -trouble in finding the trail. They were feeling -their way cautiously, compasses in hand, when suddenly -Art, who was leading, uttered a cry, and -pointed to the unmistakable cross path of the Gulf -Side Trail, carefully maintained and worn by many -feet. There was a sign, too.</p> - -<p>“Hooray! Here we are! Can’t miss that trail!” -yelled Peanut, his feeling of relief escaping in a -shout which used up all the breath left in his lungs.</p> - -<p>There was, to the amazement of the Scouts, an -answering shout from somewhere southwest of them, -coming out of the fog—a faint call which sounded -like “Help!”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">First Aid in the Clouds!</p> - -<p>“What’s that?” all three exclaimed.</p> - -<p>Facing in the direction whence the sound -seemed to come, they put their hands around their -mouths, and shouted together, “Hoo-oo!”</p> - -<p>Again there was a faint reply.</p> - -<p>“It’s down the Gulf Side Trail, and a bit west!” -cried Art. “Come on!”</p> - -<p>“Easy!” cried Rob. “We don’t want to go -rushing off the trail this way, or we’ll be lost, too. -Here, let’s go south on the Gulf Side, until the -shouts are directly west of us, and then strike in -toward ’em. Keep yelling as we go.”</p> - -<p>The answering halloo grew nearer as they moved -south on the Gulf Side, and presently it seemed -quite close, to the west. The boys struck off toward -it, over what seemed almost like a rocky pasture -there was so much mountain grass at this spot, and -in a hundred yards or so they came upon a man -and two women, one of the latter seated on the -ground moaning, her face pale with pain, while the -other was rubbing her ankle.</p> - -<p>“Thank God!” said the man, as the Scouts appeared.</p> - -<p>“But they’re only boys!” added the woman who -was not hurt, her face clouding with disappointment. -She looked as if she had been crying.</p> - -<p>The injured woman, however, said nothing. Rob -took one look at her, and saw that she was fainting. -He caught her just in time to keep her from falling -backward upon the rocks.</p> - -<p>“Here, hold her!” he said brusquely to the man, -while he unslung his pack and fished for the aromatic -spirits of ammonia.</p> - -<p>She came to in a moment.</p> - -<p>“Lost?” asked Rob.</p> - -<p>“We were walking from Washington to the -Madison Hut,” the man answered, “and this cloud -came, and we lost the path coming down Mount -Clay. Are we far from it now? We have been -wandering blindly, getting more and more confused, -and finally this lady sprained her ankle.”</p> - -<p>“She ought to have high boots on, not low -shoes,” said Rob; “especially a woman of her -weight.”</p> - -<p>“Get me down the mountain somehow,” the injured -woman moaned. “I’ll never come on a trip -like this again!”</p> - -<p>“We can’t carry her far,” said Art, bluntly, “she’s -too heavy. We’ll have to get help.”</p> - -<p>“Let’s get her to the trail,” Rob suggested, “and -then one of us will have to go for help. What’s -nearer, Washington or the Madison Hut? Look at -the map, Art.”</p> - -<p>“We must be on the edge of the Monticello Lawn -on the south shoulder of Jefferson,” Art replied. -“It’s about an even break, but it’s nearer to Adams, -where our crowd is waiting for us.”</p> - -<p>“Well, we’ll get her to the path, and decide,” Rob -said. “Stretcher!”</p> - -<p>The boys made a stretcher with their coats and -staffs, and Rob and the man took the ends, while -the woman, who was large and heavy, was helped -up, groaning with pain, and sat on it. It was quite -all they could do to carry her, and the poles sagged -dangerously. Art went ahead with the compass, -walking almost due east, and they reached the Gulf -Side Trail and lowered the stretcher.</p> - -<p>“Now,” said Rob, “two of us had better go for -help to Adams. Art, you and I will, I guess. Peanut, -you wait here and make the lady as comfortable -as you can in our blankets.”</p> - -<p>“Hold on!” Peanut cried. “See, the cloud is -breaking up! Maybe we can signal. That would -be quicker.”</p> - -<p>The clouds were surely breaking. They didn’t so -much lift as suddenly begin to blow off, under the -pressure of a wind which was springing up. The -top of Jefferson was visible through a rift even as -the party watched, and presently a shaft of sunlight -hit them, and the whole upper cone of Jefferson was -revealed, a pyramidal pile of bare, broken stone.</p> - -<p>“Give me the staffs and two towels,” Peanut -cried. “I’ll have help here in half an hour!”</p> - -<p>Rob went with him, and the two Scouts, forgetting -how weary they were, began almost to run up the -five hundred feet of the summit cone, without any -path, scrambling over the great stones without -thought of bruised shins.</p> - -<p>When they reached the peak, the clouds were entirely -off the range—they had disappeared as if by -magic—and the sharp cone of Adams to the northeast, -almost two miles away in an air line, was -plainly visible. As they stood on the highest rock, -a flash of light sprang at them from the other -summit.</p> - -<p>“Hooray!” Peanut cried, “they’re there! They’re -flashing a mirror at us!”</p> - -<p>“More likely the bottom of a tin plate,” said Rob. -“Where’d they get a mirror? Out with your -signals!”</p> - -<p>Peanut tied a white towel to the end of each staff, -and standing as high on the topmost rock as he -could, held them out. Against the blue sky, on the -peak of Adams, the two boys saw two tiny white -specks break out in answer. They were so far away -that it was very hard to follow them, to keep the two -apart.</p> - -<p>“Oh, for a pair of field-glasses!” Rob cried. “Do -you think they can get us?”</p> - -<p>“If we can get them, they can,” Peanut answered. -“Here goes!”</p> - -<p>“Woman hurt, bring help, Gulf Side,” he signaled, -very slowly.</p> - -<p>They both watched, breathless, for the answer, -but it was impossible to make out whether they -were understood or not.</p> - -<p>“Here, you take one flag, and stand up here; -you’re taller,” Peanut said, jumping off the rock. -“I’ll stand below you. That’ll separate the two -more. Now, again!”</p> - -<p>Very slowly, holding each letter a long time, and -running a few steps to left or right with their flags, -they signaled once more, the same message.</p> - -<p>This time they saw the answering flags change -position. “Good old Lou, he’s done the same -trick,” Peanut cried. “Look, I can read it now!”</p> - -<p>“I can’t,” said Rob.</p> - -<p>“Well, I can—— G-o-t-y-o-u! Got you!” -Peanut shouted. “They’ll be here! How long -will it take ’em?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, half an hour, I should say,” Rob answered. -“Come back, now. Maybe the woman has fainted -again.”</p> - -<p>“Gee, why do people try to climb mountains when -they don’t know how?” said Peanut, as they -descended again toward the little group of figures -below them.</p> - -<p>“Help is coming!” they cried, as they drew near.</p> - -<p>“Well, you boys were certainly sent by Providence!” -the man exclaimed.</p> - -<p>They all made the injured woman as comfortable -as they could while they waited. There was still a -little water left in the Scouts’ canteens, and they made -a cold bandage around her ankle, which Rob decided -was not broken. Then there was nothing to do but -sit and wait. It seemed hours, though it was really -less than thirty minutes, when over the east shoulder -of Jefferson, where the Gulf Side Trail skirts the precipitous -wall down into the Great Gulf, came the -rescue party, almost on the run—Mr. Rogers, Frank, -Lou, and four men.</p> - -<p>One of these men, it speedily turned out, was a -doctor, and he took charge at once, while Rob -watched him admiringly, for Rob was going to be a -doctor, too. He felt of the injured ankle carefully, -while the patient winced with pain.</p> - -<p>“No broken bones,” he said, “just a bad sprain. -You should wear stout, high boots for such work, -madam.”</p> - -<p>(“Just what we told her,” Art whispered.)</p> - -<p>“And now,” the doctor added, “she’s got to be -carried to the nearest point on the railroad. Jim, -you start along now to the summit house, and telephone -down for a train to be sent up immediately. -We’ll get her to the track at the point where the -West Side Trail crosses, just below the Gulf -tank.”</p> - -<p>“How far is it?” asked the Scouts.</p> - -<p>“Two miles,” the doctor answered, “but we can -do it all right. You boys have done enough to-day. -We are going that way anyhow, and you are going -the other.”</p> - -<p>“Couldn’t we take her to the Madison Hut?” -asked Frank.</p> - -<p>“That would be a great help!” the doctor said. -“How would we get her down the mountain from -there?”</p> - -<p>“I hadn’t thought of that,” said Frank.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, one of the four men had picked up his -pack again and was striding rapidly down the trail -toward Clay, headed for Mount Washington and the -telephone. The other three trampers, and the man -who had been lost with the women, made a new -stretcher of their staffs and coats, put the woman on -it, and started after him.</p> - -<p>The Scouts begged to help, but the doctor said -no.</p> - -<p>“Twice a day over the Gulf Side is enough for -boys of your age,” he declared. “We can get on all -right. You go back to the hut—and take it easy, -too.”</p> - -<p>The man and both the women who had been -rescued said goodbye to Peanut, Rob and Art over -and over, shaking their hands till the boys grew embarrassed.</p> - -<p>“Heaven knows what would have become of us if -they hadn’t heard our shout!” the uninjured woman -exclaimed, again close to tears. “We were lost, and -Bessie was hurt, and we’d have perished!”</p> - -<p>“Not so bad as that,” the doctor said, with a -smile, “because the cloud cleared, and you’d have -found the path, and we four would have come by just -the same.”</p> - -<p>Peanut’s face clouded. He had thought of himself -and his two companions as rescuers, and here the -doctor was proving that if they hadn’t done it, somebody -else would! The doctor evidently guessed his -thoughts, for he added:</p> - -<p>“That’s not taking away any credit from these -Scouts, though. If we hadn’t happened to be headed -for Washington you would undoubtedly have been in -bad trouble, and if the cloud had lasted longer, you -might have been in for a night on the mountain without -shelter, and that never did anybody any good. -Pretty good work for the boys, I think!”</p> - -<p>Peanut looked happy again, and the two parties -shouted goodbye to each other, as those with the -stretcher moved down the trail toward the distant -railroad trestle, and the Scouts moved northward, -toward the Madison Hut.</p> - -<p>Then Peanut suddenly realized that he was tired. -He was more than tired—he could just about drag -one foot after the other. Art was not much fresher, -and even Rob said if anybody should ask him to run -fifty yards, he’d shoot ’em.</p> - -<p>They passed the Six Husbands’ Trail, swung around -north of Jefferson onto the knife-blade col between -that mountain and Adams, passing Dingmaul Rock, -a strange shaped boulder called after a mountain -animal which is never seen except by guides when -they have been having a drop too much. Peanut -laughed at this, but he grew sober and silent again -when it was passed, and when the trail swung to the -left of Adams, rising over the slope between Adams -and the lesser western spur called Sam Adams, he -didn’t even grin when somebody suggested that they -climb Adams, which is 5,805 feet, the second highest -mountain in New England.</p> - -<p>“Go to thunder,” was his only comment.</p> - -<p>Once they had toiled up the slope, however, they -looked down-hill all the way to the Madison Hut, and -in thirty minutes they had crossed the Adams-Madison -col and reached the stone hut tucked into the -rocks at the base of the cone of Madison, the last -peak of the Presidential range.</p> - -<p>With one accord, packs and blankets were dropped -off weary shoulders to the ground, and the three -Scouts who had been into the Gulf that day flopped -down on top of them, and lay there exhausted. The -other three had already been to the hut and left their -load.</p> - -<p>“Well, I guess you’ve had enough husbands for -one day, eh?” said the Scout Master. “And you’d -better not lie there, either. Come on, inside with -you, and lie in your bunks.”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">Peanut Learns Where the Six Husbands’ -Trail Got Its Name</p> - -<p>It was, in truth, getting cold on the mountain, and -the wind was freshening as the sun set. They -moved wearily into the hut, and found three tiers of -bunks inside, like a ship’s cabin, and a stove giving -out pleasant heat, and the caretaker getting supper -ready.</p> - -<p>“No cooking to-night,” said the Scout Master. -“You three climb up and lie down till supper is -ready.”</p> - -<p>Rob, Art and Peanut made no objection to this -order, and soon, from their bunks, they were discussing -the day’s adventures with the other three.</p> - -<p>“We had a wonderful day!” said Lou and Frank. -“We climbed every one of the north peaks except -Madison—Clay, Jefferson and Adams—and we got -almost to the hut here before the cloud came. Gee, -what views! We kept looking down into the Gulf -for you, but we never saw you. It was lots of fun -climbing back up Adams in the cloud.”</p> - -<p>“Well, we had some day ourselves, believe me -Judge!” said Peanut. “We had a swim in Spaulding -Lake, and a long hike in the woods down at the -bottom of the Gulf, and then the Six Husbands’ -Trail. Say, that’s a trail!”</p> - -<p>“My pack weighed a hundred and twenty-nine -pounds before we got to the top,” Art added.</p> - -<p>“And then, when we saw the clouds above us, we -hurried, too,” Rob said, “so we could reach the -Gulf Side path before they closed down too far, and -that took our wind.”</p> - -<p>“And then Peanut let out a Comanche yell when -we did strike the Gulf Side,” put in Art, “with all -the wind he had left——”</p> - -<p>“Which wasn’t much,” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>“—— and out of the cloud, off southwest somewhere -we suddenly heard a faint call for ‘Help!’ -It sounded awfully strange, kind of weird-like, way -up there in the clouds.”</p> - -<p>“Wonder if they’ve got the woman down by -now?” said Frank.</p> - -<p>“Lucky that doctor and the other three men were -hiking along here,” Lou put in, “or we’d have had -to carry her to the railroad and then walk way back -over the whole Gulf Side Trail again.”</p> - -<p>“Not me,” said Peanut. “I’d have kissed the -mountains good-night, and got aboard the train -myself.”</p> - -<p>“Where did you strike those four?” asked Rob.</p> - -<p>“They were at the hut when we first got there at -two o’clock, waiting for the cloud to break,” said -Mr. Rogers. “They came up Adams with us to see -you fellows signal, for they said the cloud wouldn’t -last long. Good trampers, they were, on their annual -vacation up here. They know every path like -a book.”</p> - -<p>The Scouts were discussing signaling and its -uses, and Rob was saying that it made him tired to -hear people say the Scouts were taught to be warlike, -when signaling had proved so valuable that -very day as a means of saving life in peace, instead -of taking it in war—when steps were heard outside -the hut, and a second later two men stood in the -door.</p> - -<p>“Hello, any room?” they said.</p> - -<p>“Come in,” said the caretaker.</p> - -<p>The two men entered. They were rather elderly -men, or at least middle aged, with gray hair; but -both of them were tanned and rugged, the type you -learn to recognize as the real trampers on the White -Mountain trails. They made themselves at home at -once, tossing their small packs into a corner. They -had no blankets, but both of them carried botanical -specimen cases.</p> - -<p>“Where from?” asked Mr. Rogers.</p> - -<p>“Jackson,” they said. “We came up Tuckerman’s -yesterday to the Tip Top House, and spent -this morning getting specimens on Bigelow Lawn. -We’ve just come over the Gulf Side.”</p> - -<p>“Did you meet four men carrying an injured -woman?” the boys asked.</p> - -<p>“Carrying her where?”</p> - -<p>“To the train.”</p> - -<p>“They were taking her along the West Side Trail, -from Monticello Lawn, where she sprained her -ankle,” Mr. Rogers added. “One of them went -ahead to the summit to telephone.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, that explains it!” the two strangers said. -“We met him just as we were turning out of the -carriage road into the trail. He was going about -ten miles an hour. And when we got up on Jefferson, -we saw a train climbing the trestle, and wondered -why.”</p> - -<p>“Hooray, she’s safe!” shouted Peanut. “Bet she -never tries to climb in low shoes again, though.”</p> - -<p>Supper was now served, and the combined parties -sat down to it. The boys told the newcomers of -their day’s adventures, and Peanut suddenly shot -out, “Say! Can <i>you</i> tell me why it’s called the Six -Husbands’ Trail?”</p> - -<p>One of the men laughed. “I surely can,” he -said.</p> - -<p>“Well, for Heaven’s sake, do, then,” Rob said. -“He’ll never be happy till he knows.”</p> - -<p>“You came down the head wall of the Gulf, you -say?” the man asked. “Well, did you notice the -first waterfall you came to after you reached the -bottom of the wall and started down toward the -Gulf camp?”</p> - -<p>“Gee, there was nothing but waterfalls,” said -Peanut.</p> - -<p>“Exactly, but there are some real falls on the -trail, though, and some which are only rapids. -Anyhow, the upper fall was named in the summer -of 1908, by Warren W. Hart, a Boston lawyer who -cut the trail up to the head wall. Weetamo Fall, he -called it, in honor of Queen Weetamo, the sister-in-law -of the famous Indian chief, King Philip. Maybe -you boys know all about her?”</p> - -<p>“Know about King Philip,” said Peanut, “but -can’t say I’m intimate with his sister-in-law.”</p> - -<p>“That’s a pity,” said the man, “because she was -a fine woman. Her husband, King Philip’s older -brother, Alexander (or Wamsutta) was also a chief. -After he died, Weetamo married again, several -times, each time seeking to bind the New England -tribes into a stronger alliance. Some say she -married three times, some say five or more. Mr. -Hart, when he cut the new trail you boys came up -this afternoon, decided to give the lady a liberal -allowance, so he made it six. The Six Husbands’ -Trail is named in honor of the husbands of Weetamo, -the Indian chieftainess.”</p> - -<p>“There, Peanut, now you know!” laughed Art.</p> - -<p>“I like it, too,” Peanut declared. “I don’t see -why more of these mountains and places aren’t -named after Indians, or with Indian names, like -Moosilauke and Pemigewassett and Ammonoosuc. -Why should this mountain be called Madison, for -instance? <i>He</i> didn’t discover it, or even ever see it, -maybe.”</p> - -<p>“Who did discover the White Mountains, by the -way?” asked Rob. “I never thought of that before.”</p> - -<p>The same man who had answered before again -replied. He seemed to know all about these hills. -“Mount Washington, which was named in the first -years of Washington’s administration, when all sorts -of things were being named for him, was the first -mountain climbed in the United States,” he said. -“Darby Field accomplished it in 1642, after a trip -of exploration in from the coast, through the then -trackless forest. The only account of the trip is in -Governor John Winthrop’s journal, which you’ll find -in your public library, or it ought to be there, if it -isn’t. Field was accompanied by two Indians. It -took them eighteen days to get here and back. At -the foot of the ascent was an Indian village, but -these Indians dared accompany him no nearer the -top than eight miles, as they never climbed mountains. -His own two Indians went on with him. -From the fact that his ascent was, he says, for the -last twelve miles over bare rocks, he evidently came -up over the southern ridges somewhere, possibly the -Giant’s Stairs and Boott Spur. The north peaks -were not explored and named till 1820, less than a -hundred years ago. Lafayette, over in Franconia, -was not climbed till 1826.”</p> - -<p>“But weren’t there any Indian names for these -mountains?” Peanut persisted.</p> - -<p>“They called the whole Presidential range, or -perhaps the whole White Mountains by the name -Agiocochook,” the man answered. “I’m afraid my -knowledge ceases there. Our forefathers didn’t -make any special effort to learn what the Indians did -call things, or to respect their names any more than -their lands. Certainly we’ve done badly in our -naming. Clay, for instance, and Franklin, were -never Presidents, yet their names are given to two -peaks in the Presidential range; and Mount Pleasant -isn’t even named after a statesman. I agree with -our young friend here, and like better the names -of the Sandwich range to the south, Chocorua, -Passaconaway, Bald Face. Those are either Indian -names, or are suggestive of the appearance of the -mountain.”</p> - -<p>“Right-o,” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>It was now dark outside, and clear and cold. -The Scouts went out into the windy starlight, and -looked far down into the valley to the north, where -the lights of a small town glittered, and filled their -lungs with the bracing, fresh air. Then they one -and all turned in, and though the two new arrivals -were talking with the caretaker of the hut, it wasn’t -five minutes before all six were fast asleep.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">Through King’s Ravine and Home Again</p> - -<p>Art was not the first one up in the morning. -When he opened his eyes, he saw the caretaker -of the hut moving about the stove. Nobody -else was astir in the Scouts’ party, but through the -open door Art saw the two men who had arrived the -previous evening standing on the rocks, looking off. -It was full daylight!</p> - -<p>Art climbed hastily down out of his bunk and -shook Peanut.</p> - -<p>“Lemme ’lone! I got to climb this rock!” said -Peanut.</p> - -<p>“What do you think you’re doing? You’ve got -to get up!” laughed Art.</p> - -<p>“Whaz ’at?” said Peanut. Then he opened his -eyes, stared into Art’s face, and added, “Hello! -Why, I’m awake!”</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, the others had waked, also. Rob -looked at his watch. “Six o’clock!” he exclaimed. -“That’s what comes of sleeping in bunks. All up, -and have a look at the weather!”</p> - -<p>The weather seemed propitious. The north peaks -were all out, and the great shoulder of Chandler -Ridge on Washington, across the white mists which -filled the Great Gulf, looked like a stone peninsula -thrusting out into a foamy sea. There was only a -slight wind, and the sun was pleasantly warm already.</p> - -<p>“How’s the grub holding out?” asked Mr. -Rogers. “If we have breakfast cooked for us inside, -it will cost us something. Have we enough -left for breakfast and lunch? We’ll have to get -supper on the train.”</p> - -<p>“Train! Gee whiz, I don’t want to go home! -Let’s stay another week,” said Frank.</p> - -<p>“That’s the talk!” Peanut cried. “Let’s go -down in the Great Gulf and get some trout, and -live on them.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll shoot a bear with a bow and arrow,” Art -added. “We’ll need the meat, too, for we’ve not -got more than enough for one good meal—except -vegetables. We’ve got a lot of spinach left, ’cause -we’ve hardly ever stayed anywhere long enough to -soak it, unless we’d had it for breakfast.”</p> - -<p>Peanut fished in his rear pocket and produced his -purse. “I’ve got enough to buy breakfast, if the -caretaker’ll sell us any, and a sleeper home,” he -announced. “Golly, though, where’s my return -ticket!”</p> - -<p>He began searching wildly in all his pockets, -while the others investigated their pocketbooks, to -see if they had their tickets. Peanut finally dashed -back into the hut, and discovered his in his pack. -The tickets were from Fabyans, however, and as -they would reach the railroad at Randolph, some -miles east, there would be a small extra fare. All -the boys had money enough left for the trip, and for -breakfast as well.</p> - -<p>“I’ll shout you all to supper on the train,” said -Mr. Rogers. “Let’s save all our grub for a whacking -big farewell luncheon in King’s Ravine, and buy -breakfast here, eh?”</p> - -<p>“You’re on,” the Scouts replied, and they hastened -back into the hut, where the two men joined -them. The caretaker finally agreed to give the boys -breakfast out of his own stores, though he didn’t -seem very keen about it. Usually, he only cooks -meals for visitors at the hut when they provide the -food.</p> - -<p>“How do you get the food up here?” Peanut -asked him.</p> - -<p>“The birds bring it,” he said.</p> - -<p>“You think you’re Joshua, don’t you?” Peanut -retorted.</p> - -<p>“Why?” asked the man, looking puzzled.</p> - -<p>“’Cause he was fed by the ravens. Wake up -and hear the birdies,” Peanut laughed. “Now will -you tell me?”</p> - -<p>The man grunted, and made no reply.</p> - -<p>(“I suppose he has to pack it up from Randolph,” -one of the men whispered. “It’s no cinch, either.”)</p> - -<p>Breakfast over, the boys paid fifty cents each for -their night’s lodging, and a dollar and a half for -cooking dinner and the breakfast. Then they set -out for the summit of Madison, before descending to -the railroad. The sharp cone of Madison rose directly -behind the hut. Indeed, you could step from -the roof of the hut in the rear out onto the rocks. -It was only a twenty minute climb, without packs, -for the hut is 4,828 feet above the sea, and Madison, -the last of the Presidentials, is only 5,380. From the -top they had their last high prospect, and they drank -it in to the full. Eastward, they looked out over the -ravine of the Peabody River to the timbered slopes -of the Moriahs and Carter’s Dome, another group of -mountains which lured their feet. Beyond them was -the state of Maine. Southward, over the Great Gulf, -was Chandler Ridge, with the Chandler River leaping -down its steep side, like a ribbon of silver. -South westward lay the bare stone pyramids of -Adams and the two lesser Adamses (Jefferson was -hidden) and finally the great bulk of Washington to -the left of Clay, lying high above them all, far off -against the blue sky. Due west, they looked down -into the yawning hole of King’s Ravine. It was a -mighty prospect of bare rocks piled more than a -mile in air, of great gulfs between them, of far green -valleys and far blue hills.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I like the mountains!” cried Lou. “I want -to come to the mountains every year! I want to -stand up under the sky and see off—way off, like this!”</p> - -<p>“That goes for me, too, even if I can’t say it so -pretty,” declared Peanut.</p> - -<p>Reluctantly, they descended from the cone, picked -up their packs at the hut, and with Peanut throwing -back a final “Goodbye, Josh,” to the caretaker, they -hit the Gulf Side Trail for a scant quarter of a mile, -swung off of it to the right, and stood presently in a -kind of gateway of great stones, with the world dropping -out of sight between the posts.</p> - -<p>“Look back!” said Mr. Rogers.</p> - -<p>They turned. Behind them, framed by the huge -stones of the natural gate, rose the cone of Madison -against the blue sky—that and nothing else.</p> - -<p>“Goodbye, Maddie,” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>“Au revoir,” said Lou. “See you again next -summer, maybe!”</p> - -<p>They turned once more, and at once began to -drop down the head wall of King’s Ravine, a ravine -almost as fine as Tuckerman’s, discovered and explored -by the Reverend Thomas Starr King in 1857 -and named after him.</p> - -<p>“Say, this trail has the Six Husbands’ guessing,” -said Art.</p> - -<p>“Glad I’m not going up,” said Frank.</p> - -<p>“Well, nothing is steep to me after the head wall -of Huntington,” Lou said. “I can see something -under my feet here, at any rate.”</p> - -<p>The descent was rapid, for they dropped 1,300 -feet in the five-sixteenths of a mile to the floor of -the ravine, which means an ascent of 4,160 feet to -the mile. Anybody good at mathematics can reckon -out what this angle is. The boys estimated it -roughly as they were descending at about seventy -degrees. Nobody had time to figure it on paper, -however, and when they got to the bottom, there -was too much else to see. Anyhow, it was steep -going!</p> - -<p>They found the bottom of the ravine strewn with -great boulders which had fallen down from the cliffs -on three sides. Some of them were as big as houses, -and in a cave under one they found ice. Two paths -led down the ravine, one over the boulders called -“Elevated Route for Rapid Transit,” the other “The -Subway.”</p> - -<p>The guide book said the latter took longer but -was more interesting.</p> - -<p>“The Subway for us!” cried Peanut.</p> - -<p>So they took the Subway, and though it was not -a second Lost River, this path took them by a tortuous -route through several caves, and under many -an overhanging boulder, where the air was chill and -there were strange echoes. Again, at the lower end -of the ravine, they descended rapidly for half a mile -by a steep way, into the woods again at last, and -finally stopped by a brook for the farewell lunch.</p> - -<p>The last of the powdered eggs, spinach soaked -and boiled as long as they dared wait, till it wasn’t -too tough to eat, the last of the bacon from Lou’s -and Mr. Rogers’ packs, a single small flapjack apiece, -a quarter cake of sweet chocolate for each, and tea, -completed the repast. After it was over, they carefully -burned all the wrapping paper and Art blazed -a tree and printed on the fresh wood, “Farewell -Camp,” and the date. Then under it they all wrote -their names.</p> - -<p>It was less than two miles from this point out to -the railroad and for the first time in many days they -were walking on almost level ground. Before long, -the woods opened, and they came out on the meadows -of Randolph. Across a field in front of them -lay the railroad track and the tiny station. They -dropped packs on the platform and turned to look -at the mountains. Only the north peaks were visible—Madison, -Adams and Jefferson—three pyramids -against the sky.</p> - -<p>“Golly, how funny it feels to be down on the level -again!” said Peanut.</p> - -<p>“And how far away they look! Think, we were -up there only this morning!” said Frank.</p> - -<p>“And how small our hills will look when we get -home,” said Lou.</p> - -<p>“Well, anyhow,” put in Art, “cheer up and think -how good some of mother’s pies will taste.”</p> - -<p>“There’s something in that,” laughed Rob and -Mr. Rogers.</p> - -<p>The train soon came, and carried them by a roundabout -route to Fabyans, where they had to change -to the night train down the Connecticut valley. At -Fabyans, where the big Fabyan Hotel sits beside -the railroad, they bought some more souvenir post-cards -and Peanut got a pound of very sticky candy -which Mr. Rogers said would spoil his supper, -whereat he answered, “Wait and see!” They could -see from here the whole south range, culminating in -the peak of Washington, and thus could follow their -adventurous climb over the Crawford Bridle Path. -Again, the peaks seemed very far off, and Lou said -it was like a dream to think that they had been walking -way up there only a few days before.</p> - -<p>Once aboard the train, they secured berths for the -night, and began to think of supper. Mr. Rogers -was true to his word—and so was Peanut. He provided—and -Peanut ate.</p> - -<p>“What’s a pound of candy to an empty tum?” -said Peanut. “Besides, Frank and Art ate most -of it.”</p> - -<p>They had a last faint glimpse of Lafayette against -the twilight at Bethlehem junction, and then the -train moved on through the darkness.</p> - -<p>“Well, it’s goodbye mountains,” said Rob. -“Let’s fix up our mileage.”</p> - -<p>Each Scout got out his precious staff, battered -now, with the end pounded into a mushroom by the -hard usage on the rocks, and cut the mileage for the -day—five miles was all they could make it, even with -the trip up the Madison cone included.</p> - -<p>“Disgraceful!” said Peanut. “Five miles! -Bah!”</p> - -<p>“But the day before is <i>fair</i>,” said Art, “considering -the Six Husbands’!”</p> - -<p>“Let’s see, have I got it right?” asked Peanut. -“Mile and three-quarters from Tuckerman hut to -Washington, three and a half miles to Six Husbands’, -mile and a half to sprained ankle, mile up Jefferson -and back, three miles to the hut—that’s ten and -three-quarters miles, and I guess we can call it -eleven, all right, and some up and down hill, take it -from me!”</p> - -<p>“Well, we did more’n that,” said Frank; “we had -the mile and three-quarters from Tuckerman’s, six to -the Madison Hut along the Gulf Side, and three back -to you folks, and three back to the hut again. That’s -thirteen and three-quarters, and we took in the summits -of Jefferson and Adams, so we can call it an -even fifteen. Some up and down for us, too.”</p> - -<p>“Well, eleven over the Six Husbands’ will stand -off your fifteen,” Peanut declared; “won’t it, Rob?”</p> - -<p>“I think it will,” said Rob, “but let’s not fight -about it. What’s the grand total?”</p> - -<p>“Eight the first day,” said Art, “from Sugar Hill -station to camp; ten up Kinsman; twenty-one on -Moosilauke; seventeen in Lost River and on to the -Flume camp for you fellows, and eighteen for Peanut -and me; sixteen over Lafayette; ten on Cannon and -in Crawford’s; nine on the Bridle Path, fighting -storm; thirteen and a quarter in Tuckerman’s and -Huntington—let’s call it fourteen, ’cause we climbed -the Huntington head wall a way; eleven for half of -us in the Gulf, and fifteen for the rest; and five on -the last day. What does that make?”</p> - -<p>Rob, who had put down the readings on a bit of -paper, added the total. “One hundred and twenty-one -for half of us, one hundred and twenty-six for -the rest,” he said.</p> - -<p>“About a hundred and twenty-five miles in ten -days,” said Mr. Rogers. “Well, that’s not so bad, -when you’re toting a pack and a blanket, and fighting -clouds and hurricanes, and shinning up Six Husbands’ -trails. Are you glad you came, boys?”</p> - -<p>“Are we!” they shouted, in one breath. “You -bet!”</p> - -<p>“We haven’t done so awful much real scouting -though,” added Peanut.</p> - -<p>“Why not?” said the Scout Master. “It seems -to me we have. We’ve been prepared, haven’t we? -We’ve handled ourselves in storms and clouds, we’ve -helped other folks, we’ve known how to signal for -aid from one mountain top to another, we’ve kept -ourselves well and hardy in the open, and we’ve had -a bully good time. After all, we’ve put a lot of scout -lore into use, when you come to think of it. That’s -what scout lore is for—to use, eh, Peanut?”</p> - -<p>“Guess you’re right. Gee, you’re always -right!” said Peanut. “I say three cheers for -Mr. Rogers, the best Scout Master in America! -Now, one——”</p> - -<p>“Sh!” said Rob. “We all agree, but the man in -that next berth is snoring already. He might not -agree!”</p> - -<p>“Well, I can snore as loud as he can,” cried Peanut, -“if I get the chance. Let’s turn in. And to-morrow -<span class="allsmcap">A. M.</span> we’ll be in old Southmead! Golly, -wish I was in the Great Gulf!”</p> - -<p>“You couldn’t tell the other fellers what a good -time we’ve had, if you were,” said Art.</p> - -<p>“That’s so,” Peanut reflected. “Aw, the stiffs! -I hadn’t thought about ’em till just this minute. The -stiffs! Think of the fun they missed!”</p> - -<p>It was eight o’clock the next morning when the five -Scouts and Mr. Rogers, tanned and lean, with shoes -battered and worn thin by the stony trails, marched -up Southmead Main Street from the railroad station, -and found the village just as they had left it.</p> - -<p>“It’s all here, as if we’d never been away!” said -Rob.</p> - -<p>“But we are changed,” said Lou. “We’ve got -pictures in our heads, and memories, that we didn’t -have before. We’ve lifted up our eyes unto the -hills!”</p> - -<p>“And our feet, too,” said Peanut. “Yes, sir, we -are changed. These old Southmead hills haven’t -grown smaller, but our eyes have grown bigger.”</p> - -<p>“You’re a psychologist, Peanut,” laughed Mr. -Rogers.</p> - -<p>“I’m a hungry one, whatever it is,” Peanut replied. -“Hope ma has saved some oatmeal.”</p> - -<p>“So do I!”</p> - -<p>“So do I!”</p> - -<p>“So do I!”</p> - -<p>“So do I!”</p> - -<p>“We seem to have the same old appetites, anyhow!” -laughed Rob, as the White Mountain hike -ended at the post-office, and the six hikers scattered -for their homes.</p> - -<p class="center">THE END</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - </div> - -<div class="bbox"> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="EATON_BOOKS"><small>BOOKS BY</small><br /> -<big>Walter P. Eaton</big></h2> - -<p class="center">ADULT</p> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<p class="hanging2"><b>SKY-LINE CAMPS.</b> A Notebook of a Wanderer -in our Northwestern Mountains. 320 pp. Cloth, -boxed, $2.50. A gift book for every home.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p>Mr. Eaton is a great lover of the out-of-doors and in this volume -his power of description finds its greatest opportunity. Lovers of -nature and those who enjoy beauty truthfully pictured will find in -this volume a treasure house of enjoyment. Beautifully illustrated -with many and rare photographs.</p> -</div> - -<p class="hanging2"><b>PENGUIN PERSONS AND PEPPERMINTS.</b> A Volume -of Essays. By Walter Prichard Eaton, author, -critic and playwright. 252 pp. Cloth, $1.50.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p>Fascinating from beginning to end. There are few authors who -have greater ability than Mr. Eaton in making his readers feel they -are in intimate touch with the very purpose and thought of the writer. -This volume will cover every varying mood of the reader.</p> -</div> - -<p class="hanging2"><b>THE IDYL OF TWIN FIRES.</b> New. Illustrated with -frontispiece and pen and ink drawings by Thomas -Fogarty. Attractively bound and enclosed in a box. -$2.50.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>This genuine and human story of a young college professor who -heeded the call to country life, will appeal to thousands.</p> - -<p>Mr. Eaton is here at his best as he writes of the beauties of country -living.</p> -</div> - -<p><b>GREEN TRAILS AND UPLAND PASTURES.</b></p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>Appreciation of Nature, ranging from Massachusetts to Montana, -but chiefly about the Berkshires in their subtle and intimate -moods.</p> - -<p>Beautifully illustrated by Walter King Stone.</p> - -</div> - -<p class="right"> Cloth, boxed, $2.50</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -</div> - -<div class="bbox"> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHELEY_BOOKS"><small>BOOKS BY</small><br /> -Frank H. Cheley</h2> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<p class="hanging2"><strong>BOY RIDERS OF THE ROCKIES; or CAMPING -ON TOP OF THE WORLD.</strong></p> - -<p>14 full page illustrations from the author’s own -photographs. 336 Pages. $2.00.</p> - -<p>A true story of a wonderful boys’ camp high up -in the Colorado Rockies where annually scores of -boys are living again the grand old days of Buffalo -Bill and Kit Carson.</p> - -<p class="hanging2"><strong>THE BOYS’ BOOK OF CAMP FIRES.</strong></p> - -<p>Illustrated by the author’s own pictures of camp-fire -life. 400 Pages. $2.50.</p> - -<p>A standard and beautifully illustrated book of -camp life with advice on all matters pertaining to -it. As a camp owner, a director of boys’ activities -for many years, the author knows what advice is -needed and how to give it interestingly.</p> - -<p class="hanging2"><strong>CAMP-FIRE YARNS; or FAMOUS STORIES -TOLD AROUND THE CAMP-FIRE.</strong></p> - -<p>352 Pages. $1.50.</p> - -<p>No boy or man has ever forgotten those evenings -he spent before the camp-fire, or forgot the stories -which were told.</p> - -<p>Mr. Cheley’s selections are the choicest which -have ever been issued.</p> - -<p class="hanging2"><strong>THE MYSTERY OF CHIMNEY ROCK.</strong></p> - -<p>320 Pages. $1.75.</p> - -<p>A fascinating story of the search for gold in the -land of the Ute Indians in the days of ’49. The -story of this wonderful period of our country’s -history should interest every boy.</p> - -<p><span class="u"><i><b>FOR FATHERS.</b></i></span></p> - -<p class="hanging2"><strong>THE JOB OF BEING A DAD.</strong></p> - -<p>352 Pages. $1.75.</p> - -<p class="hanging2"><strong>DAD, WHOSE BOY IS YOURS?</strong></p> - -<p>160 Pages. $1.25. (Pocket size, limp covers.)</p> - -<p>Every father in the country should read these -truly remarkable books. The author is the President -of the Father and Son League of America, and has -had long experience in work with boys.</p> - -<p>He says: “This job of being a dad to a real boy is -really the biggest job in the world,” and he proves it.</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -</div> - -<div class="bbox"> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="BARTLETT_BOOKS"><small>BOOKS BY</small><br /> -Arthur C. Bartlett</h2> - -<h3>SPUNK, LEADER OF THE DOG TEAM.</h3> - -<p>The mainspring of this story is found in those -dog sled races which have become an outstanding -event of our northern New England season of -winter sports.</p> - -<p>Spunk—strong, masterful, intelligent that he -was—won his place in the heart of his master and -as leader of the dog team through weeks and -months of training. He acquired his name because -he refused to whimper when broken limbs had to be -set and he justified his name when on the ice fields -of Mount Washington he refused to yield an inch -when yielding would mean certain death and destruction -to all. And when the winning team of -the great Derby of dog racing “mushed in” with -Spunk in the lead, he verified all the confidence that -his master had in him when he christened him -“Spunk.”</p> - -<h3>THE SEA DOG.</h3> - -<p>The Sea Dog is a real dog—noble, brave, self-sacrificing -and intelligent. Pieface, the hero of the -tale, was the only heritage left to this spoiled son -of a millionaire who, when the boy was young, lost -his all, leaving his lad to the mercies of the world. -Downcast and discouraged, the lad even tried to -drown his only legacy. Fortunately the dog lived -and became of material assistance to his master in -regaining his confidence in himself and his ability to -meet the world on an equality.</p> - -<p class="center"><i><b>Colored Jackets, Attractively Illustrated, -$1.75 each.</b></i></p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -</div> - -<div class="bbox"> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="THEISS_BOOKS"><i><small>BOOKS BY</small></i><br /> -<strong><big>LEWIS E. THEISS</big></strong></h2> - -<p class="hanging2"><b>IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY.</b> A Camping Story. -304 pages.</p> - -<p class="hanging2"><b>HIS BIG BROTHER.</b> A Story of the Struggles and -Triumphs of a Little Son of Liberty. 320 pages.</p> - -<p class="hanging2"><b>LUMBERJACK BOB.</b> A Tale of the Alleghanies. -320 pages.</p> - -<p class="hanging2"><b>THE WIRELESS PATROL AT CAMP BRADY.</b> A -Story of How the Boy Campers, Through Their -Knowledge of Wireless, “Did Their Bit.” 320 pages.</p> - -<p class="hanging2"><b>THE SECRET WIRELESS.</b> A Story of the Camp -Brady Patrol. 320 pages.</p> - -<p class="hanging2"><b>THE HIDDEN AERIAL.</b> The Spy Line on the Mountain. -332 pages.</p> - -<p class="hanging2"><b>THE YOUNG WIRELESS OPERATOR—AFLOAT.</b> -How Roy Mercer Won His Spurs in the Merchant -Marine. 320 pages.</p> - -<p class="hanging2"><b>THE YOUNG WIRELESS OPERATOR—AS A FIRE -PATROL.</b> The Story of a Young Wireless Amateur -Who Made Good as a Fire Patrol. 352 pages.</p> - -<p class="hanging2"><b>THE YOUNG WIRELESS OPERATOR—WITH THE -OYSTER FLEET.</b> How Alec Cunningham Won -His Way to the Top in the Oyster Business. 328 pages.</p> - -<p class="hanging2"><b>THE YOUNG WIRELESS OPERATOR—WITH THE -U. S. SECRET SERVICE.</b> A Story of Secret Service -Work in Which Every Incident is Based Upon -Actual Occurrence. 310 pages.</p> - -<p class="hanging2"><b>THE WIRELESS OPERATOR—WITH THE U. S. -COAST GUARD.</b> A Remarkable Picture of the -Service Performed by the Patrols Along Our Coast. -320 pages.</p> - -<p class="center">Cloth Bound—Illustrated by Colored -Plates and Photographs</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -</div> - -<div class="bbox"> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="By_William_Drysdale"><span class="cursive"><i>By William Drysdale</i></span><br /> -The Famous<br /> -<big>“Brain and Brawn” Series</big></h2> - -<p class="center cursive"><i>No boy should grow up without reading these books</i></p> -<hr /> -<h3>The Young Reporter</h3> - -<p class="center">A STORY OF PRINTING HOUSE SQUARE. 300 pp.</p> - -<p>A genuine boys’ book for genuine boys. Full of -life, clean, clear cut and inspiring. It will enlist the -interest of every stirring and wide-awake boy.</p> - -<h3>The Fast Mail</h3> - -<p class="center">THE STORY OF A TRAIN BOY. 328 pp.</p> - -<p>The story of the adventures of a boy who fought -his way to success with clean grit and good sense, -accomplishing what is within the power of every -American boy if he sets about it. It is full of movement, -sound in sentiment, and wholesome in -character.</p> - -<h3>The Beach Patrol</h3> - -<p class="center">A STORY OF THE LIFE-SAVING SERVICE. 318 pp.</p> - -<p>A spirited picture of the labors and dangers to -which members of the life-saving service are exposed -and which few realize.</p> - -<h3>The Young Supercargo</h3> - -<p class="center">A STORY OF THE MERCHANT MARINE. 352 pp.</p> - -<p>This book has all of the interest of “Oliver -Optic’s” books, with none of their improbabilities.</p> - -<hr class="r5" /> - -<p><b>The Volumes are Fully Illustrated.</b></p> -<hr class="full" /> -<p class="center">W. A. WILDE COMPANY</p> - -<p class="center">Boston and Chicago</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -</div> - -<div class="bbox"> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="By_Everett_T_Tomlinson"><i>By Everett T. Tomlinson</i></h2> - -<hr /> - -<p class="h2sub"><strong><big>War of the -Revolution Series</big></strong></p> - -<p><b>Each Volume Fully Illustrated<br /> -Price, Cloth,</b></p> - -<p>Every boy who has ever read these historical -stories by Dr. Tomlinson will say -that this series of books is one of the best -which has ever been written, for the stories -are patriotic, interesting, and instructive. -The heroes in each of the books are resourceful -and devoted to the best interests -of their country. Any boy who has never -read these stories has much to look forward -to.</p> - -<p><i>The series consists of four volumes</i>:—</p> - -<p class="hanging2"><b>Three Colonial Boys.</b> A Story of the Times of ’76</p> - -<p class="hanging2"><b>Three Young Continentals.</b> A Story of the -American Revolution.</p> - -<p class="hanging2"><b>Washington’s Young Aids.</b> A Story of the -New Jersey Campaign of 1776-1777.</p> - -<p class="hanging2"><b>Two Young Patriots</b>; or, Boys of the Frontier. -A Story of Burgoyne’s Invasion.</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="transnote"> -<p>Transcriber’s Notes:</p> -<p>A number of typographical errors have been corrected silently.</p> -<p>For the “War of the Revolution Series” the price was blank in the -original image so does not exist in the transcription.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BOY SCOUTS IN THE WHITE MOUNTAINS ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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