Mountains.

The wind below cold on the mountain, and a shower passed over from
the northeast; but it was soon gone, and the sun set over the hills
in a blaze of red and gold. The way down seemed long, but when we
reached camp at 10.15 P.M. it was still quite light. Joe had been
fishing, and had four brook trout for my breakfast. Job and
Gilbert had gone down the valley prospecting, and soon came in with
the information that a mile below camp we could put our canoes into
the water. Beyond, there would be two short portages, and then we
should not again have to take them out of the water before reaching
Seal Lake.

After I went to my tent there floated out into the quiet night the
sound of the men's favourite hymns, "Lead Kindly Light," "There is
a Green Hill Far Away," "Abide With Me," and, as always, the
singing ended with their Indian "Paddling Song." When I put out my
light at 11 P.M., a full moon was throwing shadows of the spruce
boughs on my tent.

The view from the mountain-top seemed an inspiration to the party,
and on Monday morning, shortly after four, I heard Job's axe making
ready for the early breakfast. By 5.30 A.M. they were off with
their first packs. Then all was quiet again. The tiny mirror-like
lake was yet in shadow though sunlight touched the tops of its
encircling hills, and I wished that I might wait, till it was time
for me to go, on the summit of the one we had climbed last night.
When the last load was ready I, too, went forward.

It was a glorious morning, with just such sunshine one would wish