maple, the black walnut, the buckeye, the hickory, the locust, and the
guide pointed out in one section the largest cherry-trees we had ever
seen; splendid trunks, each worth a large sum if it could be got to
market. After the great trees were left behind, we entered a garden of
white birches, and then a plateau of swamp, thick with raspberry bushes,
and finally the ridges, densely crowded with the funereal black balsam.

Halfway up, Big Tom showed us his favorite, the biggest tree he knew. It
was a poplar, or tulip. It stands more like a column than a tree, rising
high into the air, with scarcely a perceptible taper, perhaps sixty,
more likely a hundred, feet before it puts out a limb.

Its girth six feet from the ground is thirty-two feet! I think it might
be called Big Tom. It stood here, of course, a giant, when Columbus
sailed from Spain, and perhaps some sentimental traveler will attach the
name of Columbus to it.

In the woods there was not much sign of animal life, scarcely the note
of a bird, but we noticed as we rode along in the otherwise primeval
silence a loud and continuous humming overhead, almost like the sound
of the wind in pine tops. It was the humming of bees! The upper branches
were alive with these industrious toilers, and Big Tom was always on the
alert to discover and mark a bee-gum, which he could visit afterwards.
Honey hunting is one of his occupations. Collecting spruce gum is
another, and he was continually hacking off with his hatchet knobs of
the translucent secretion. How rich and fragrant are these forests! The
rhododendron was still in occasional bloom' and flowers of brilliant hue
gleamed here and there.

The struggle was more severe as we neared the summit, and the footing
worse for the horses. Occasionally it was safest to dismount and lead
them up slippery ascents; but this was also dangerous, for it was
difficult to keep them from treading on our heels, in their frantic
flounderings, in the steep, wet, narrow, brier-grown path. At one
uncommonly pokerish place, where the wet rock sloped into a bog, the
rider of Jack thought it prudent to dismount, but Big Tom insisted that
Jack would "make it" all right, only give him his head. The rider gave
him his head, and the next minute Jack's four heels were in the air, and
he came down on his side in a flash. The rider fortunately extricated
his leg without losing it, Jack scrambled out with a broken shoe, and
the two limped along. It w