lake. We
were about five miles, as the water runs, from the point of starting,
and over two from the lake. We must go directly back to the top of the
range where the guide had left us, and then, by keeping well to the
left, we would soon come to a line of marked trees, which would lead
us to the lake. So, turning upon our trail, we doggedly began the work
of undoing what we had just done,--in all cases a disagreeable task,
in this case a very laborious one also. It was after sunset when we
turned back, and before we had got half way up the mountain it began
to be quite dark. We were often obliged to rest our packs against
trees and take breath, which made our progress slow. Finally a halt
was called, beside an immense flat rock which had paused in its slide
down the mountain, and we prepared to encamp for the night. A fire was
built, the rock cleared off, a small ration of bread served out, our
accoutrements hung up out of the way of the hedgehogs that were
supposed to infest the locality, and then we disposed ourselves for
sleep. If the owls or porcupines (and I think I heard one of the
latter in the middle of the night) reconnoitred our camp, they saw a
buffalo robe spread upon a rock, with three old felt hats arranged on
one side, and three pairs of sorry-looking cowhide boots protruding
from the other.

When we lay down, there was apparently not a mosquito in the woods;
but the "no-see-ems," as Thoreau's Indian aptly named the midges, soon
found us out, and after the fire had gone down annoyed us very much.
My hands and wrists suddenly began to smart and itch in a most
unaccountable manner. My first thought was that they had been
poisoned in some way. Then the smarting extended to my neck and face,
even to my scalp, when I began to suspect what was the matter. So,
wrapping myself up more thoroughly, and stowing my hands away as best
I could, I tried to sleep, being some time behind my companions, who
appeared not to mind the "no-see-ems." I was further annoyed by some
little irregularity on my side of the couch. The chambermaid had not
beaten it up well. One huge lump refused to be mollified, and each
attempt to adapt it to some natural hollow in my own body brought only
a moment's relief. But at last I got the better of this also, and
slept. Late in the night I woke up, just in time to hear a
golden-crowned thrush sing in a tree near by. It sang as loud and
cheerily as at midday, and I thought myself after all qu