Page:Boy scouts in the White Mountains; the story of a long hike (IA boyscoutsinwhite00eato).pdf/178

 across the Notch they could see the whole long, beetling brow of Webster.

"It kind of looks like the pictures of Daniel," said Peanut. "Stern and frowning."

"And the slides are the furrows in his forehead," laughed Rob.

But it was looking north that the view was most impressive. The railroad hung dizzily on the side wall, with the rocks apparently tumbling upon it from the left, and it about to tumble down the rocks to the right. It curved eastward a mile or two ahead, and at the bend, facing down the Notch, was the precipitous southern wall of Mount Willard, almost a sheer rock cliff a thousand feet high. As the party walked up the track, the cliff grew nearer and nearer, and as the daylight faded in this deep ravine, it seemed more and more not to be straight up, but to be hanging forward, as if ready to fall on top of them.

"I'd hate to be in here during a thunder-storm," said Lou. "It's—it's kind of terrible!"

They came through the gate of the Notch at six o'clock, and there was the Crawford House in day-*light, and above it, on the slope of Clinton, were the rays of the sun!

"Good little old sun," said Peanut. "Wow! I'd hate to live where it set every day at four o'clock."

They now hurried up the Bridle Path to their