The following day our host, who had meantime returned, drove us down through the Wilmington Pass to Upper Jay, and thence through Keene to the Keene Flats, a distance in all of between twenty and twenty-five miles.
The Wilmington Pass, though not so rough and rugged as its far-famed rival, the Indian Pass, is far more beautiful, and quite as majestic. The great cliffs overhanging the road, and the swift Au Sable, the fine rapids, and the fall of over a hundred feet, the noble views of Whiteface and the dark, steep peaks rising round it, all combine to render this one of the most impressive mountain chasms we have ever visited. After passing through the defile, we left the West Branch of the Au Sable, and crossed a low ridge to Upper Jay, where we again came upon the East Branch, and ploughed our way through heavy sands to Keene, where we dined, and whence the road up the valley to the Keene Flats becomes firmer and less tedious. The way was bordered by rich fields of grass and grain, potatoes in abundance, flax in pale azure flower, and acres blue with the beautiful campanula or harebell. At the inn in Keene we met our rebellious friend Spart, who, having tired of his chase, had returned to his former headquarters.
Toward the 'Flats,' five miles above Keene, the intervale grows narrower, and the bordering mountains become loftier, wilder, and correspondingly more grand. Dix's Peak towers above the southern extremity of the valley.
We passed the night at a comfortable farmhouse, there being no inn at the 'Flats,' and the following morning were driven back to Elizabethtown, with the increased store of information, health, and admiration for the Adirondac country we had amassed during our three and a half days' scouting excursion.
MOUNT TAHAWUS.
The beginning of August found us once more housed under the neat roof of our farmer host at the Keene Flats, and not only Elsie and myself, but also sundry friends, drawn thither by our praise of the beauty of the land and the fineness of the air. There were the brilliant M. W. C., learned in all philosophical lore, and with feeling and imagination sufficient to furnish out half a dozen poets; the staid but energetic M. T., whose portrait in our gallery occupies, a conspicuous place in the small niche devoted to model women; the gay and witty A. I., whose blue eyes imperil so many hearts, but whose frank, keen speech quickly puts to rout all popinjays and useless danglers; also E. B. C. (our Diogenes), a faithful knight from Caissa's thoughtful train, a rapid walker and sharp thinker; and last, a merry little four-year-old, whose quaint sayings are heeded and treasured as if emanations from Delphos or Dodona. Our Orpheus had gone to Saranac.
Our purpose was to visit the Au Sable Ponds, with the waterfalls in their neighborhood, and to ascend Mount Tahawus; but alas! for weather! The haze settled down so thickly that the nearest hills were undistinguishable. A violent thunder storm came, but brought no relief. Desperate, we thought we might at least see the ponds and the falls, and early one hazy morning started off with strong wagon, stout horses, and careful driver. The distance to the Lower Pond is seven miles—three excellent, and four so execrable that nearly all our party preferred walking to the jolting over rocks and stumps and ploughing through rich, deep forest mould, dignified by the name of driving. This is a new road, just opened, and the intention is, we believe, to work it into better shape as rapidly as possible. The intervale ceases at the end of the first three miles, where the road leaves the Au Sable and winds up a hill to the last clearing, whence the view to the blasted, riven sides of Mount Moriah, towering opposite, is wonderfully grand. Thousands of acres of bare rock, scarred and lined, and apparently nearly perpendicular, form the western slope of that gaunt giant. The road soon after passes the cabin of one of the oldest pioneers of the region, crosses Gill Brook, on which are some charming cascades, and, through a noble forest of beech, basswood, maple, birch, and some evergreens, finds its way to the lofty shores of the Lower Pond. Arrived there, the haze was thicker than ever, giving to view only the sparkling waters at our feet, and the nearest mountains, whose craggy sides overhang the lake. To cap the climax, a fishing party had carried off both boats, so that a nearer acquaintance with the Lower Pond was impossible, and the Upper could not be seen at all—these ponds forming no exception to the general Adirondac rule, that any sheet of water navigable for boats requires no road upon its bank. And indeed, a road round this Lower Pond would be a considerable undertaking, the shores are so steep and high, the rocks often rising perpendicularly from the water. Crossing the great dam at the outlet, our guide led us through tangled patches of magnificent wild raspberries, 'through brake and through briar,' to the opening of a narrow gorge through which poured a small stream. Climbing up over the rocks and bowlders, we soon reached the end of the chasm, where we were enchanted by the spectacle of the most fairy-like and peculiar waterfall we had ever beheld. The Cascade Brook here falls over a precipice of about 150 feet. The little stream at this point makes a right-angled turn, and thus is built up an opposing wall of equal height. The chasm is so deep and narrow, that the water, descending in a silvery veil, seems flowing from the clouds. A heavy fringe of trees bordering the top, adds to the mystery and the apparent elevation. The campanula, as is usual with this delicate blossom, hangs out its blue bella and slender foliage from every jutting cornice and earth-filled cranny. Below, the water has worn away a series of steep, narrow steps, and comes leaping and foaming down, as if a magic wand had touched the rocks, and at each touch a springing fountain had gushed forth.
On our way back to the 'Flats,' we went a mile off the main road, to visit another fall on Roaring Brook. The precipice here is some 250 feet in height. A great slide has bared the rock for many yards on either side of the fall, which has worn deep grooves for its passage, and clings to the face of the mountain, as if it feared to lose itself amid the savagery of the surrounding desolation. Here, as in all the neighboring region, are plainly visible the terrible effects of the great freshet of October 1st, 1856. We were told that, in the vicinity of this fall, neither the heavy rain nor the rushing waters could for a time be heard, only the rattling and battering of stones, as if the Titans had again taken to pelting the poor earth with whatever of rock and bowlder they could lay their hands upon. The State dam at the outlet of the lower Au Sable broke down, and the freed lake rushed out through the valley, over the meadows, carrying away bridges, dams, mills, houses, and whole fields of earth, with their crops. The Au Sable River rose three feet in fifteen minutes, and many persons perished before aid could reach them. Bowlders, rocks, trees, stumps, and timber were whirled along by the boiling flood. Bowlders of six feet in diameter were afterward found lying twenty feet above the bed of a brook where trout had been caught before the freshet. They had been brought down stream some forty rods, and piled one above another. The effects of the rise were felt all the way to the mouth of the river, the high stone bridge at Keeseville being the only one on the whole course left standing, and that, to this day, bearing a stone inscription marking the almost incredible height to which the water rose on that eventful first of October. The inhabitants of the region sued the State for damages; but as the dam had been constructed in consequence of a petition of sundry of those inhabitants, for the purpose of running logs down the river at all seasons, the court decided that the State was not responsible for the consequences. John's Brook, which flows into the Au Sable near the farmhouse at which we stayed, bears wild marks of this desolating freshet; indeed, one can scarcely credit the fact that the pretty little stream and smoothly purling river could ever have met in such desperate conflict as is evidenced by the scars and rifts still existing near their confluence.
This John's Brook, by the way, is the shortest route up Mount Tahawus, the entire distance from the 'Flats' being only ten miles. As the greater number of visitors, however, desire to see the Au Sable Ponds en passant, no path has been 'bushed out,' and that mode of ascent is practicable only for hunters or woodsmen familiar with the region.
At length a 'wind blew out of the north, chilling and killing' that terrible haze, and rendering the prospect of a distant view at least possible. Tahawus loomed up before the mind's eye clear and majestic. Such an invitation being irresistible, the little party were soon ready for their journey, said party consisting of Elsie, E. B. C., and Lucy D., with three guides—an old pioneer, short, slight, weather-beaten, and sun-browned, a younger aspirant for scouting honors, tall, handsome, and athletic, and a novice, making his first ascent of the kingly mountain, but offering a pair of broad shoulders that promised to do good service in the bearing of the necessary packs. Each guide carried his own axe, blanket, and provisions, and, in addition, his share of our united baggage, which consisted of a thick Mexican blanket, four shawls, two heavy and two lighter, a woollen cap, a water-proof cloak with hood, one overcoat, two loaves of bread, a small piece of salt pork, a little can of butter, two or three pounds of maple sugar, a little bag of cornmeal, two pounds of crackers, the same quantity of chocolate, some tea, a small tin pail, a frying pan, three tin saucers, three knives, forks, and spoons. A pint of brandy and the same of whiskey were carried in flasks to meet emergencies of cold or weariness, and a canteen for water was also taken to serve as a pitcher, and to bear that refreshing element to heights where no springs could be hoped for. It will be seen that we had reduced our appliances to the smallest quantity compatible with proper warmth and nourishment, and the possibility of being detained out several days, perhaps, by stress of weather. We had at first thought india-rubber blankets indispensable, but having been advised against their use as conducive to rheumatism, and, besides, finding them difficult to procure, we started without, and certainly never missed them. The garments worn on such an excursion should, as far as practicable, all be woollen, and the shoes moderately thick, but not too heavy. A light umbrella will be found a useful addition in case of sudden rain or very hot sun. Each person will carry such toilet arrangements as he or she may deem necessary, only let them be as light as possible, every ounce on such a tramp soon becoming a matter of serious consequence.