Frank Bolles,
At the North of Bearcamp Water
“ The only sounds which I could hear, and they were only occasional, were produced by the fall of masses of snow from spruce limbs, and the sighing of the breeze in the tree-tops far below me in the ravine. When the wind ceased, the hush was wonderful. In so vast a space it seemed as though some voice of nature must make itself heard; but above, below, northward towards Canada, eastward towards the ocean, southward, where Winnepesaukee’s waters were too dazzling to watch, and westward, among the snowy ravines of clustered mountains, all was absolute repose and silence. ”
