This house is nothing
more or less than a barn, in one end of which an attempt has been made
to make a comfortable shelter for the human family. Here the real work
of the day began, although we had already come one hundred and four
miles by train and six by teams. No enterprising railroad man has set
his seal upon this region and we were forced to pursue the journey by
means of the conveyances which nature long ago--(how long, thank
fortune, we are not obliged to tell)--at our disposal. But faint heart
ne'er climbed a high mountain and with the aid of stout walking-sticks
we easily climbed the path which led up under sighing spruces and
stunted birch, filled with a fine exhilaration.
On each side and under foot was a profusion of wild flowers. Not June
flowers, but those found with us in May, so backward was the season at
that altitude. The red and white trillium, the sarsaparilla, Solomon's
seal, "moose-missy" and black-berry bushes, and, farther up, the
blue-berry bushes, all hung full of blossoms, a small Alpine flower of
seven white petals excited much curious comment, for in spite of its
resemblance to the wind-flower, no one seemed able to classify it.
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