The
frescoes of dawn touch the tips of the eastern ranges whose
stern gray summits break into rosy flame.
We climbed to the summit of a towering mountain and a glorious
prospect met our view. Looking out over the billows of verdure
that seemed to be rolling down the mountains, we saw Lake
Placid, with its green islands, like a lovely painting in the
quiet morning light. Far as the eye can reach the forest-crowned
mountains stretched, now surging into summits, now sinking into
valleys, holding in their embrace the lovely Saranac lakes that
gleamed like the flashing of distant shields. Far beyond to the
south like a glittering mirror lay Tupper's lake, while farther
away the pointed pinnacles of the Adirondacks thrust themselves
boldly into the sky. Looking northward we beheld a lovely
cultivated region with meadows and grain fields. We also caught
sight of several towns, and glimpses of dark forests between the
billowy folds of other ranges, that melted into the sky. Like a
narrow band of light, Lake Champlain was just visible, while the
faint summits of the Green mountains with their misty veils
seemed like far, thin shadows.
CHAPTER XIV
LONG LAKE, LAKE GEORGE, AND SARATOGA
Long Lake is one of the most charming of any found in the
Adirondacks. Its islands are lovely beyond words to describe. No
artist, not even Turner, has ever caught the magic sheen that
clothes it, nor portrayed the rosy clouds the crimson west has
painted, that seem to hang motionless above it.
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