speaking to the driver.
It was only a short time until they were on the way again. The country was becoming more sparsely settled, the hills more rugged and the forests more numerous. Here and there slabs of granite might be seen cropping up through the soil; in the distance, now and then, they were able to catch glimpses of the bare ridges of the mountains toward which they were journeying.
"Those mountains," explained the guide, "are called 'The Roof of New England.' There's not much of any timber on top, but on the sides you will find some spruce, yellow pine and hemlock. It's all granite a little way under the subsoil; and over the subsoil grows moss. Among these mosses and the roots of the trees almost every important stream in New England takes its rise, and some of them grow to be quite decent rivers. You ladies live in this state, don't you?"
Miss Elting nodded.
"I am afraid we never realized what a beautiful state New Hampshire is until we began looking about a little," answered Harriet Burrell.
"There are too many thtoneth," objected Tommy. "I thhall be afraid of thtubbing my toeth all the time."
"Lift your feet and you won't," suggested Margaret, with a smile.
"Buthter, I didn't athk for your advithe," retorted Tommy.
"There are the foothills," interrupted the guide, "and there is Chocorua. Isn't she a beauty?"
This was the girls' first real glimpse of the White Mountains. Chocorua loomed high in the air, reminding them of pictures they had seen of ancient temples, except that this was higher than any temple they had ever seen pictured. Its gray domes, flanked by the other tops of the neighboring range, stood out clearly defined.
"Three thousand five hundred feet above sea level," the guide informed them, waving a hand toward Chocorua. "Doesn't look that high, does it?"
"Have we got to climb up there?" questioned Margery.
"We are going to. We do not have to if we don't want to," replied Hazel.
"Oh, dear, I'm too tired to go on," whined Margery.
"I knew Buthter could never climb a mountain," observed Tommy, with a hopeless shake of her little tow-head. "But never mind, Buthter, you can thtay here and wait until we come back. It will only be a few weekth and you won't be tho very lonely. Of courthe, you will mith me a great deal."
"Don't worry yourself over me," snapped, Buster. "I can climb as well as you. But if I did stay behind, you can make up your mind I wouldn't miss you."
"Stop squabbling, girls," laughed Harriet. "Neither one of you could get along without the other."
The granite domes soon faded in the waning light. The driver urged on his horses. The carry-all bumped over the uneven road, swaying giddily from side to side, the girls clinging tightly to the sides of the wagon, fearing that they might be thrown out. Darkness shut out pretty much everything at an early hour. Janus decided that they had better wait for supper till they reached the "Shelter," a cabin part way up the side of the mountain, where tourists halted for a rest or to stay over night when intending to climb the mountain. It was not expected that there would be any save themselves there on this occasion.
The road grew so uneven that the driver became a little uneasy. He finally declared that he did not dare to try following the trail up to the Shelter that night; that either he would put them down at the foot of the mountain or make camp there until the following morning, when he would continue the journey up the mountain to the shelter.
Janus consulted with Miss Elting. He said they could walk to the Shelter in a couple of hours, provided the girls were hard enough to stand the climb. The guardian assured him that they were equal to anything in the walking line. It was, therefore, settled that the driver should take them to the foot of the mountain, whence they would make their way on foot to the stopping place for the night, thus beginning their tramp at the base of the mountain.
"How much farther have we to go?" questioned Harriet.
"A mile farther on we pass over a long, covered bridge. The road takes a sharp bend beyond that. The foot of the mountain lies less than a mile from the end of the bridge. We shall soon be there," answered Janus. The girls burst forth into song. Janus had to shout to make himself heard when he spoke to the driver. The horses were traveling at a lively pace. They did not enjoy the disturbance behind them, and their driver, having wrapped the reins about his arms to give him greater purchase, was pulling sturdily, his feet braced against the dashboard of the carry-all.
"Here's
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