"Leaving our camp on the mountain side, at seven A.M. we set out for the summit of Ktaadn, traveling steadily up the slide, clambering over loose bowlders of granite, trap, and graywacke, which are heaped up in confusion along its course. We at length reached a place where it was dangerous longer to walk on the loose rocks, and passing over to the right-hand side, clambered up among the dwarfish bushes that cling to the side of the mountain.
"Two of our party became discouraged on reaching this point, and there being no necessity of their accompanying us, they were allowed to return to camp. The remainder of our ascent was extremely difficult, and required no small perseverance. Our Indian guide, Louis, placed stones along the path, in order that we might more readily find the way down the mountain, and the wisdom of this precaution was fully manifested in the sequel. At ten A.M. we reached the table-land which forms the mountain's top, and ascends gradually to the central peak. Here the wind, and driving snow and hail, rendered it almost impossible to proceed, but we at length reached the central peak. The true altitude of Mount Ktaadn above the level of the sea is a little more than one mile perpendicular elevation. It is, then, evidently the highest point in the State of Maine, and is the most abrupt granite mountain in New England.
"Amid a furious snow-storm, we set out on our return from this region of clouds and snow. Louis declared that Pomola was angry with us for presuming to measure the height of the mountain, and thus revenged himself. 'Descending, we had nearly gone astray, and might have descended on the wrong side, had it not been for the precautions of Louis before named. Clouds and darkness hung upon the mountain's brow, and the cold blasts almost deprived us of breath. Incrusted with snow, we carefully slid upon the surface of the rocks.' 'We tumbled down some large blocks of granite, that descended with a terrible fracas, dashing the rocks into fragments as they bounded along.' 'Our party encamped upon the mountain side, and passed a sleepless night, without food, and amid a driving snow-storm.'
"Early next morning we struck our tent and descended the mountain, but so enfeebled had we become by hunger, privations, and fatigue, that it was with difficulty we could carry ourselves and burdens. Every now and then our knees would give way beneath us, and cause us to fall upon the ground. When we reached the base of the mountain, we discovered some wild choke-cherries hanging in bunches from the trees, which the bears had often climbed and broken for the fruit. Felling one of these cherry-trees, we ate the astringent fruit, and were in some measure resuscitated in strength, so as to march with renewed vigor. A bed of blueberries also presented itself, and we stopped to dine upon them. 'Proceeding on, we met two of our company, who had passed down the night before, who had cooked all the Indian meal that we left at our old camp on the island, and brought the cakes for our relief. On our way down the river we fortunately met two young men ascending the stream in a canoe on an exploring expedition, we induced them to sell us twenty biscuits, which, being two to a man, on short allowance, we hoped to be able to reach Nickatow. On our way down we met another crew, who supplied us with the necessary rations to reach Nickatow, where, on our arrival, we obtained all that was necessary for the comfortable prosecution of our down-river journey.'"
In addition to the natural resources of the Penobscot for lumber, several townships of good timber land, formerly claimed by the crown, but by treaty ceded to the United States, have become available by diverting a portion of the head waters of the St. John's River into the channel of the former, on the west branch. This was effected by cutting a canal from a lake on the St. John's, called Zelos, to Webster Lake, on the Penobscot.
Originally the canal was three hundred rods long by four wide, and four feet deep; but the strong current of water flowing through, at the rate of one mile in twenty minutes, has changed the regularity of the channel to a more natural and stream-like appearance.
By this bit of Yankee enterprise, the timber of eight townships, otherwise and necessarily destined for the provincial market, may be brought down the Penobscot, the aggregate amount of which is estimated, by the best judges, at five hundred millions of feet.
This has succeeded so well, that further surveys have been made with a view to open other communications between the waters in the same region, and, if the expectations of those interested in this matter should be realized, it is said that the timber of some thirty townships more will come down the Penobscot River.[ [15]
The project of excavating the canal alluded to was suggested by the proximity of the above-named lakes, and the remarkably favorable position of the strip of land lying between them. The direct cause of its being carried into effect is said to have originated in consequence of the levying of a provincial tax on lumber cut and run down the St. John's by Americans, in violation of an article in the treaty adopted by the two governments in the recent settlement of the boundary between Maine and New Brunswick.
The specific condition in the treaty thought to have been violated is this, in substance: All timber situated on land ceded to the United States, which, from its position, must pass down the St. John's, "shall be dealt with as if it were the produce of the said province;"[ [16] which condition on the part of Maine was thought to imply freedom from duty or taxation.