huff stumbling, pulling, pushing aside branches, huffing & gasping & constantly shifting the burden from one hand to another. Occasionally thru the trees I managed to get a glimpse of the sun, reddened by August haze;
     Up, up & up I went endlessly; When I had about despaired of reaching the bare portion that had attracted me from the road, I suddenly saw above me a few dead trees, and after a final heart breaking spurt, I reached the “hind-quarters” of the “hog” while I sank on a log to rest; The sun was disappearing in a gray-green bank to the west above a huge blue-green hill. A belated cicada sang, by his very song prolonging the heat of the day from far below the noise of fellows practicing base-ball came up to me.
    A short climb took me to the summit, where I made my camp, which consisted merely of fixing a mosquito screen & spreading my blanket. Here I had the feeling of lonely evenings of childhood when I feared God – Above the top of the hill here, was a huge