. It seemed the easiest thing in the
world to find the lake. The lay of the land was so simple, according
to accounts, that I felt sure I could go to it in the dark. "Go up
this little brook to its source on the side of the mountain," they
said. "The valley that contains the lake heads directly on the other
side." What could be easier! But on a little further inquiry, they
said we should "bear well to the left" when we reached the top of the
mountain. This opened the doors again: "bearing well to the left" was
an uncertain performance in strange woods. We might bear so well to
the left that it would bring us ill. But why bear to the left at all,
if the lake was directly opposite? Well, not quite opposite; a little
to the left. There were two or three other valleys that headed in near
there. We could easily find the right one. But to make assurance
doubly sure, we engaged a guide, as stated, to give us a good start,
and go with us beyond the bearing-to-the-left point. He had been to
the lake the winter before and knew the way. Our course, the first
half hour, was along an obscure wood-road which had been used for
drawing ash logs off the mountain in winter. There was some hemlock,
but more maple and birch. The woods were dense and free from
underbrush, the ascent gradual. Most of the way we kept the voice of
the creek in our ear on the right. I approached it once, and found it
swarming with trout. The water was as cold as one ever need wish.
After a while the ascent grew steeper, the creek became a mere rill
that issued from beneath loose, moss-covered rocks and stones, and
with much labor and puffing we drew ourselves up the rugged declivity.
Every mountain has its steepest point, which is usually near the
summit, in keeping, I suppose, with the providence that makes the
darkest hour just before day. It is steep, steeper, steepest, till you
emerge on the smooth level or gently rounded space at the top, which
the old ice-gods polished off so long ago.

We found this mountain had a hollow in its back where the ground was
soft and swampy. Some gigantic ferns, which we passed through, came
nearly to our shoulders. We passed also several patches of swamp
honeysuckles, red with blossoms.

Our guide at length paused on a big rock where the land began to dip
down the other way, and concluded that he had gone far enough, and
that we would now have no difficulty in finding the lake. "It must lie
right down there," he said, poin