Page:Boy scouts in the White Mountains; the story of a long hike (IA boyscoutsinwhite00eato).pdf/191

 the right hand trail, and dropped down a little, going along through some low scrub which had climbed up from the gulf below, protected from the north winds. It was warmer here in the shelter of Pleasant, and they stopped for a long drink by a spring. But, two miles from Clinton, they rose again beyond Pleasant upon the bare col between Pleasant and Franklin, and got the full force of the north wind, which seemed to be blowing harder than before. The sun, too, was getting more misty. Mr. Rogers was watching the south and southeast, but while it was very hazy in that direction, the direction of the wind didn't seem to indicate that the mist bank could come their way. They rested a moment, and then began the toilsome ascent up over the waste of strewn boulders toward the summit of Franklin. The path was no longer distinct. Here and there it was plain enough, but in other places it could be detected only by the piles of rock, or cairns, every hundred feet along the way.

As they drew near the summit of Franklin, Frank, who happened to look back down the trail, shouted to the rest.

"Look," he said, "somebody's coming up behind us!"

The others turned. Sure enough, half a mile back down the trail, were two people, a man and a woman, evidently hurrying rapidly.