The Portland daily press., 1884-05-31
AMONG TaE MOUNTAINS.


(From an Occasional Correspondent Of the Press) |
NoRTH CONWAY May IS, 1884.
When ones secular instincts predominate of |
Sunday, the orthodox mind seeks an excuse
for indulgence. The absence of ones clergy |
man is powerful argument in favor of taking
walk. II person be one of those who con-
siders her own place of worship church aud
other place ct worship she calls meeting houses,
the argument of the absence of the clergyman
Is sure to prove irresistible and conclus We. So
your corr espondent and small but lively COM
panion set forth at about the time when those
ladies and gentlemen who seek admiration by
entering late at church usually set forth
1t was bright, beautiful morning but cool
for the season; with d strong, loud wind blow
ing. From the highway, the ''river road"
runs down past the "Sunset Pavilion" and
wanders away off across the enchanting val
ley, beyond which the tremendous gray
granite walls stand up, the mountains tower
ing behind. There is wonderful divarsty in
the mountain views, a little later and this
wild variety, these fine Contrasts, will have
disappeared or have been modified so that the
midsnmmer'tourists lose apic:uresqueness that
does not linger behind the month of NAV.
Now Mount Washington and the sharp peak
of Mount Adams are wrapped In glistening
snow, from base to summit; there are great
spots and long streaks Of snow on the dark
sides of Mote Mountain, Carter Mountain
with its graceful loop is dark beautiful blue.
Over the nearer ranges we notice the blending
OF the green tints, the pale, yelowish shade of
the white birohes, the rich, reddish brown of
the young naples, the sombre, black green of
the pines, spruces, frs and hemocks. Over
one or two OF the low mountains in the South,
soft, dreamy haze is lying, like thai of
August. Along the level intervales stretching
away for miles, the earth is brown in places
where tbs snow last winter thinly covered it;
and IN other places very near, the long, green
grass is waving in the fresh breeze. The
streams sre brimmng full The silver white
cascades Ia the little brooks are a never end
ing delight to my small friend, and the stroug,
rapid How of the mighty Saco is in surprising
contrast to the shallow current OF the stream
when IT rlpples over the white pebbles In sum-
mer time, Through the woods, the delicate,
white, starry blossoms of the wild cherries
wave among the Gardening foliage. The birds
are singing everS whore, bright winged butter
flies dart hther and thither through the air
by the wocdroad to Echo Lake, bright eyed
squirrels run up within few Yards OF us and
SIT peering unfearingy at us as we pass SO near
them.
But here we are at Echo Lake. How still
snd DARK and solemn it is az the foot of the
5lackish-grey ledge that rises sheer and awful
five hundred feet above it, There is little,
golden beach and the celebrated echo from
the opposite face of the rock, is clear, ringing
ana vlvaclous, not much like the voice of the
msld who pined away for love, fancy.
TbfSngh stately pine forest, full of delicious
odors and sunny glanciDg lights and soft shad.
ows, where the rushing wind is tempered to
delightful zephyrs, We go to the cathedral,
rightly named indeed, the massive pillars aud
ioity, sheltering roof, carved by natures own
handiwOrk from one of her mountains of rock
Here the devout worshipDer may well come.
say OF unday afternoon If his clergyman is
at home In the morning, and inevitably his
thoughts and gratitude must be raised to Him
in all reverence, who is the great architect.
and the Creator of all the beauty of this earth
The lodges rise still higher here THAI at Echo
Lake. 1t almost takes ones breath away to
look up at them, and it seems IS If they might
At anv moment topple down upon you. But
here they have stood for ages, aye, and will
stand for ages to come. The slender, white
stems OF blrches are growing, alert and vigor-
ous, in the seams OF the lodges. Away up on
the top, agaipt the very sky, lonely, silent and
isolated, dark pines stand swaying in the
wind. A sad fancy 9ossessed ma that these
trees we're like some stern, sad but lofty ma
lures that forever seem to lack a certain prosa.
ic flavor to pat them into harmony with the
usually hnmdrum conditions of existence and
the prosaic natures around them. So they
1--we, lar bove the herd of their fellow Great.
ures, Independent of human sympathy, self
ceHteret, uncomprehended and misunderstood
but as these pines lean towards the sunny little
valley far below with its trees rooted in the
common soil, so perhaps would the reserved
ones, II they conla, g. ok the comforts of home
comnanionship. But it is impossible and tAty
live and die as the trees on these towt ring
cliffs, far away from their fellows.
1t IS pretty. little boulder-strewn valley
where We are, between the great forest and the
l00goS, LII a hnt rdc
away is the Devils Den," at the entrance to
which the ice is fully two feet thick. A queer
doorstep one would think for such place, but
II lying and hypocrisy are sure to bring US
here, why should we hot expect the grossest
deception in the exterior arrangements?
An intensely cold, earthy-smelling air rush
ed out from the mouth of the cave; and not
many feet away we find delicate green vine
growing along the ground in full leaf The
last trailing arbutus of the season is blooming
along the forest paths.
We are admonished that the season of pleas
ure seekers is at hand on our walk home, by
being met With inquiries for the house of the
late Lady Blanche Murphy. As people won
dered about her and admired her while she
lived, SO row her memory fingers like a
benediction in the valley where she made her
home. And may the good and gifted woman
Do remembered, as long as the charms Of
mountains, fields and streams shall last.
Great, yellow-belted humble bees light on
the lunches OF trailing arbutus in our hands,
wasps fly about, we even see few mosqui-
toes--not that they are to be welcomed with
any great degree of delight-the very breath
of summer is abroad; as we walk along the
intervales, the mellow music of the bells, call
ing to afternoon service softly floats over to u.s.
Soon we shall be in the bustlug, thriving
village again; bustling and thrifty with the
expectations of spring. For as we all exist for
the deectatop of the summer tourist, so the
hope that we may be rewarded as our efforts,
deserve springs mp sfresh like the grass and
verdure every spring, alas like the same grass
and verdure to perish as soon and at about the
same time in the fall,
We cast a lingering look backwards, think
ing and saying what blessing it is to have
such grand and restful retreat and so near
us. into the very heart OF Nature from our
vorkaday world. We shall be In it again to-
morrow, but such sights as we have ssen will
make the burdens seem lighter, nay will make
them lighter. No wonder the dwellers in
cities cali North Conway Paradisiacal
M,