In a grove of pine trees I build a fire and eat my lunch –
     Beyond here I come to a vast country – at my feet countless rolling hillocks and round-headed mounds; in the distance the gorge, and the blue and white hills beyond – from this point little snow was visible, but when I descended and advanced and looked back, the man fantastic shapes were bewilderingly beautiful.
     The sky becomes over-cast and rain is imminent – I had planned to walk to Springville by way of the creek,, but concluded I had better find the road – Dirt road leads to macadam road – two men working here tell me it is 10 miles to Springville, four miles to Gowanda – I decided to go back to Gowanda –
                                                                    Mar. 24 (3)
     Saw men sawing wood at top of bank.
     Off to the southwest I see the rain coming – in great sweeping curtains of mist, obscuring the distant hills – as it clatters into my face a wonderful peace and happiness overcomes me and I walk along face to the sky singing “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” -