They had come around a bend in the road, close to the north shoulder of the mountain now, and could see how all the upper slopes had been stripped down to bare soil by the lumbermen.
“That soil will probably dry out, landslides or fires will come, and it may be a thousand years before the mountain is forested again,” Mr. Rogers exclaimed. “It’s a perfect outrage!”
The party presently came into a crossroad, running east and west. It was a bit more traveled than the one they were on. They turned down it to the left, and reached a curious settlement, or rather the remains of a settlement. There were several rough, unpainted board houses, a timber dam across a small river, and everywhere on the ground lay old sawdust, beginning to rot down, with bushes growing up through it.
“This is Wildwood. It’s all that remains of a lumber town,” said Mr. Rogers. “The mill stood by that dam. They cleared all this end of the valley many years ago, and sent their lumber on teams down the Wild Ammonoosuc valley to the railroad.”
The party now turned south again, crossed the Wild Ammonoosuc at the dam, and began ascending gradually along a road which seemed to be making for the notch on the west side of Moosilauke.
“Only two miles more to the base,” said the Scout Master.
Art looked at his watch. “It’s only eleven o’clock,” he said. “Couldn’t we have a swim in that brook down there? I’m awful hot.”
“Me, too,” said Peanut. “And my bloomin’ old boot is hurting my heel. I want to fix it.”
“That’s because you got it so wet yesterday,” said Rob. “For heaven’s sake, take your clothes off before you go in to-day!”
Everybody turned from the road to the brook, which was almost a small river. It came down from the sides of Moosilauke, and evidently joined the Wild Ammonoosuc near the dam. In a moment five boys and a man were sticking their toes into it gingerly, and withdrawing them with various “Ouches!” and “Wows!”