* * *
Eagles still claim the loftiest heights: from there
They scan with solemn eyes the scenes below--
The river and the hills which shall endure
While man's frail generations come and go.
_E. A. Lente._
* * *
One mile from the foot of Haystack brought us to Panther Gorge Camp,
appropriately named, one of the wildest spots in the Adirondacks. We
remained there that night and slept soundly, although a dozen of us
were packed so closely in one small camp that no individual could turn
over without disarranging the whole mass. Caliban and Trinculo were
not more neighborly, and Sebastian, even sober, would have been fully
justified in taking us for "a rare monster" with twenty legs.
The next morning we ascended Tahawas, but saw nothing save whirling
clouds on its summit. Twice since then we have had better fortune, and
looked down from this mountain peak, five thousand three hundred and
forty-four feet above the sea, upon the loveliest mountain landscape
that the sun ever shone upon. We went down the western slope of
Tahawas, through a driving rain, to Camp Colden, where, with clothes
hung up to dry, we looked like a party of New Zealanders preparing
dinner, hungry enough, too, to make an orthodox meal of each other.
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