f their khaki
tops marking the road that led out of the high basin in which lay the
camp. As we too climbed the steady slope to the southeast we were willing
to leave the dreariness of its unkept farms and get among the woods. Lyon
Mountain, on the west, slowly drew its colored bulk behind the shoulder
of a nearer hill while we came closer and closer among the maples. The
shallow notch over which we passed was high and open; nothing overhung
us, but the tawny tapestry of the woods ran up gentle slopes to the right
and left, and the few evidences of farming, save for the all-present wire
fences, faded quite away. The slope grew stiffer, but there was no
slackening of pace. Heads bent low, chests began to labor, and the sweat
rolled down. A welcome rest relieved us; then up we started and went on
again, at each change of grade looking for the downward turn, and each
time disappointed till--ah, there was a corner, and on the slope beyond
we saw the column descending amid dust. Then we too turned the corner,
and faced the view.

It was not wide, for the woods by the roadside (brilliant in the sun on
the right, subdued in the, shade on the left) limited it to a V. Below
was the valley, and beyond and above it, piling ridge on ridge, rose the
hills, climbing to the shaded blue peak that loomed in the very middle.
It was a picture, striking and complete.

In vain I looked for the lake, which in all our earlier landscapes showed
between us and the hills. Then a reference to the sun showed that I was
still looking in a southerly direction. Further, this great hill, so high
and clear, was both taller and nearer than the Green Mountains could be.
Someone behind me said "Whiteface," and I knew that I was looking
straight toward the heart of the Adirondacks.

Again we made a turn, and the view broadened out. To the east the whole
landscape sloped toward the sun, against whose rays the brilliance of the
woods faded, though still amid the green one could see, to north or to
south, the yellow, the orange, or the dotted scarlet of the flaming
maples. The easterly view was less distinct; in the distant blue the
hills flattened to a fairly low horizon.

But while, still marching, I idly gazed, my eye was caught by an odd
trick of the sun which, now at nine o'clock well on its upward way, yet
seemed to illuminate the bottom of a cloud that hung near the sky line.
It was a sunset effect impossible by day, but there was the distinctly
gl