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Updated: June 18, 2025
We stayed studying the pleasant solitude and dreamy breadth of Katahdin's panorama for a long time, and every moment the mystery of the mist above grew more enticing. Pride also was awakened. We turned from sunshine and Cosmos into fog and Chaos. We made ourselves quite miserable for nought. We clambered up into Nowhere, into a great, white, ghostly void.
Among them we might imagine the mountain rising with thousands more of feet of heaven-piercing height: there is one degree of sublimity in mystery, as there is another degree in certitude. We lay to in a shady nook, just off Katahdin's reflection in the river, while Iglesias sketched him.
"It's the home-camp." "We'll camp to-ge-ther?" "We will again, sure." The last stone pounded down on the heap above the old camp; and Herb gently laid flat the body of the man he had sworn to shoot, closed the malformed eyes, and turned away, that the fellows he was guiding might not see his face. They buried Chris upon Katahdin's breast.
But only one American friend of Lieutenant Farrar's, who has let out the secret to the writer, knows that the binding truth of human brotherhood was first born into him when, on Katahdin's side, he helped to bury a thieving half-Indian. "Now, you musn't be moping, boys, because of this day's work that you took a hand in, and that wasn't in your play-bill when you come to these woods.
Certain Bostonians had essayed it, vague Northmen, preceding our Columbus voyage. Enter now upon the scene a new and important character, Cancut the canoe-man. Mr. Cancut, owner and steerer of a birch, who now became our "guide, philosopher, and friend," is as American as a birch, as the Penobscot, or as Katahdin's self.
Not so the Passamaquoddies, for they hold that Katahdin's spirit children are Thunders, and in this way an Indian found them: He had been seeking game along the Penobscot and for weeks had not met one of his fellow creatures. On a winter day he came on the print of a pair of snow-shoes; next morning the tracks appeared in another part of the forest, and so for many days he found them.
Then you will choose for yourselves." We have had more time than we expected. There has been some beautiful delay or other about machinery, the Katahdin's, that is; and Commander Shapleigh has been ever so kind. Harry has been back and forth to New York two or three times.
But spirits must be elastic in forest air. When they halted at noon to eat their "snack" on the side of a breezy knoll, with a tiny brook purling through a pine grove beneath them, with Katahdin's rugged sides and cloud-veiled peaks looming in majesty to the north, the thought of what lay behind was inevitably lost in what lay before. Enthusiasm replaced depression.
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