and due preparations, began to ascend the Mountain from the eastern side? our course about N.W. At the first steep ascent. Dr. F., finding a pain in his side, which disabled him, returned to the camp, where Mr. Whipple's negro man attended to take care of the horses and baggage. We then ascended about 2 hours, keeping a large stream which runs off the Mountain into Ellis River on our left.* Having risen many very steep and extremely difficult precipices, I found my breath fail; and, the company having been obliged to make many pauses on my account, and the pilot supposing we were not more than half way to the Plain, a consultation was held, and it was thought best that I should return before we proceeded further. Two of the gentlemen offered to be my company; but, thinking it would deprive them of the pleasure they expected to reap from ascending the Mountain, I concluded to come down alone, keeping the stream on my right. In about an hour and half I got on level ground, and my voice was heard at the camp, where I arrived, I suppose, about 10 o'clock, much fatigued; took some refreshment, and went to sleep.f

Saturday, P.m. Went with Dr. F. into the meadow, and examined a beaver dam, under which the water runs N. into Amariscogin branch; and, at a little distance out of the same meadow, it runs S. into Ellis River. The Dr. saw a blue bird, with a white head, which is said to be a saw-whetter, alias carrion-bird. As it grew toward night, we secured the horses, picked up wood for our fire, and, it beginning to rain, repaired our tent with bark, took all the baggage into it, anxiously expecting the return of our friends, but they appeared not; we therefore went to rest. The rain increased, and continued all night. Our tent leaked, and our fire decayed; but, by frequent attention, we kept it alive, and so continued to lay as that we avoided being wet.

Sunday, July 25. At daylight it ceased raining.* Our anxiety about our friends was partly removed by hearing the report of a gun, which we answered; it was repeated by them once, and by us twice, and they presently after arrived safe, having been obliged to pass the night on the Mountain, round a fire which they kindled, and which was their only defence against the rain. They had ascended to the summit, but had not so good a view as they wished, the Mountain being most of the time involved in clouds, which rolled up, and down, and in every direction, above, below, and around them. After I left them, the ascent became much more steep and difficult, the growth shorter and shorter, till it came to shrubs, then short bushes, then a sort of grass called winter grass, mixed with moss. The bushes are either fir or spruce. A sort of red berry and blue berry grow on small vines.

The Plain is composed of stones, covered with moss mixed with this winter grass; the moss of a light grey colour (that below is green), and so spread over the stones and their interstices as to look like the surface of a dry pasture or common (in some parts the interstices of the rocks were filled with moss; in others, open and dry). In some openings, water appeared. The area of this Plain is an irregular figure, supposed near a mile from the

* Insects very troublesome this morning.

r

edge to the bottom of the pinnacle.* Sugar loaf is a pile of loose, dark grey rocks, supposed about 1001 feet perpendicular height, and not so difficult of ascent as the precipice below the Plain, which, in some places, is inaccessible; especially on the S.E. side; on the E. side they w.ent up. (The degree of heat on the thermometer at the top of the Mountain was more than when they left the tent.) But the exercise of ascending so heated them, that when they came to rest on the top of the Mountain, they felt a coldness in the air which made them shiver like a frosty night in October. The weather was so thick that they could not observe the latitude, though a sextant was carried for the purpose. They cut the letters N. H. on the uppermost rock, and the letters of their names, with a chisel.

After breakfast, Mr. C. went into the meadow and took a base and angles to measure the height of that part of the top of the Mountain visible from thence, which is not the highest pinnacle, but a bluff on the eastern side of the Plain; then, mounting our horses, we set out, about 9 o'clock, for Mr. Whipple's plantation, at Dartmouth; ^ proceeded down Peabody River, keeping it on our left, after having crossed it near its source. This is the Shelburne road, which has not been travelled for some years, and is grown up with bushes and filled with wind-falls, the bridges broke, and the mires deep. After travelling about 6 miles, at 1 o'clock we found the road cut off by the River, which, in some violent flood, had changed its course more to the E., leaving the old channel on the opposite side dry, as far as we could see. Here we sat down and dined,while our pilot went back to reconnoitre, and soon returned, reporting that the place where we should have crossed the river was about 100 rods back. We then went back, crossed the River, and took another old road, which had once been cut, but was now filled, and travelled with much difficulty, at the rate of a mile and a half an hour, one going before with an ax. Met with a shower, which wet us to the skin; found ourselves deceived as to the distance, and were obliged to encamp in the woods, and turn our horses out to browse the bushes. This P.m. we crossed another branch of Amariscogin River,* called Moose River.

Monday, July 26. After an uncomfortable night, we were so happy as to find our horses at a small distance from our hut, and proceeded on our journey, supposing ourselves within 8 miles of Mr. W.'s plantation, and that we had rode about 18 miles the day before. Along this road yesterday and this morning we saw the culheags, or log-traps, wThich the hunters set for sables. They are composed of 2 sticks of about 4 or 5 inches diameter, and 10 or 12 feet long, one side of each made smooth so as to shut close one upon the other; a semicircular inclosure of long chips of wood set in the ground, about a foot in diameter and 2 feet high, covered with bushes; the logs are laid on the open side of this semicircle, and set apart by a small stick about 4 inches long, picked at the lower end, which is set on another horizontal stick, flat on the upper side and round underneath; this is also pointed at one end, where the bait is placed; two other chips are set without the logs to keep them steady, so as the upper one may fall directly on the lower one. The space between the traps is scented by drawing a piece of meat on the ground; the sable is thereby guided to the trap, and, putting his head into the hole between the logs, which is the only place where he can come at it, the motion of pulling out the bait springs the trap, and catches him by the head, or neck, or back.

After riding four hours and a half, and being overtaken with another shower, having crossed the height of land between Moose River and Israel River, and forded the latter and a branch of it, we came to some old felled trees and got to Mr. WVs opening. Had a full view of the Mountains covered with clouds, and got into a road which brought us to his house.

His plantation is situated on the intervals formed by Israel's River. The summit of the White Mountains bears S.E. from his house. Here we rested and were refreshed after a most tedious journey through the wilderness.

About 2 miles off is a pond where the moose at this season go to bathe, to get clear of the flies, and are sometimes shot in the water. Mr. W. has a pair of moose

Remark. If so vast a quantity of snow lodges and remains on the White Mountains, how many more mountains are there towards the N.W. whose frozen summits give the keenness to the wind. 'Tis not the lakes nor the forests that make the N.W. winds so piercing, but the hoary tops of infinite ranges of mountains, some of which, at the remotest regions, may retain the snow undissolved through the year.

The long green moss on the steep sides of the Mountains serves as a sponge to retain the vapors which are brought by the winds in the form of clouds against these Mountains, and there deposited; it also preserves the rain-water from running off at once, and keeps the springs supplied with a perpetual dripping.