“That? That’s a black birch. Nice tasting bark. When we get to the top and have lunch, we’ll talk about birches a little, if you like. Let me see, whose favorite tree was it last year? Tom’s?”
“Bessie’s, of course. Tom’s was the oak, because it wore squirrels and oak-leaf trimming!”
“Anyway,” said Tom, who, though a shade paler than in the old days, seemed to have partially recovered his spirits, “oak trees are stronger and tougher than pines or birches either; and I notice that uncle Will has a white oak cane, this very minute!”
“Time’s up!” interrupted Ruel, who always assumed the place of guide, not to say leader, in such tramps as these. “It’s eleven o’clock naow, and we’ve got a good piece to go yet, ’fore we’re onto the top of old Saddleback.”
The woods were very still, the air cool and fragrant, the moss deep and soft under their feet, as they passed onward and upward.
Climbing, climbing,
Climbing up Zion’s hill!
sang the girls, over and over, till the rest caught the air and joined in heartily, keeping step with the music. Now they turned an abrupt corner, and from the summit of a high ledge could look far off over the valley, with its piney woods and peaceful columns of smoke rising here and there. Loon Pond glistened gayly in the full radiance of the noon sun; now they attacked a rough natural stairway of bowlders and fallen trees, the boys clambering up first, baskets on arm, and then reaching down to give the others a helping hand. Pet, who was not used to such rough travelling, had to stop and rest every few feet; but no face was sunnier or laugh merrier than hers. Tom kept as near her side as possible, and gave her many a helpful lift with his strong arm, over the worst places. At one time she suddenly remembered that she had left her handkerchief at the last halting-place; her cavalier was off before she could stop him, racing down the steep path and returning with the missing article in an incredibly short time.
Still upward. The bowlders were prettily draped with ferns, which had sunbeams given them to play with. In the underbrush close by, a flock of partridges walked demurely and fearlessly along beside the party, clucking in soft tones their surprise and curiosity. Tiny brooks crossed the path and ran off laughing down the hill. Now there arose a rushing sound, louder and more steadily continuous than the wind-dreams in the tree-tops.
It was a cataract, falling some eight feet into a black pool, covered with little floating rafts of foam. And now they could see sky between the trunks of trees ahead.