Where was the cave?  There was ample surface in which to look for it.  If we could have flitted about, like the hawks that came circling round, over the steep slopes, the long spurs, the jagged precipices, I have no doubt we should have found it.  But moving about on this mountain is not a holiday pastime; and we were chiefly anxious to discover a practicable mode of descent into the great wilderness basin on the south, which we must traverse that afternoon before reaching the hospitable shanty on Mud Pond.  It was enough for us to have discovered the general whereabouts of the Spanish Cave, and we left the fixing of its exact position to future explorers.

The spur we chose for our escape looked smooth in the distance; but we found it bristling with obstructions, dead balsams set thickly together, slashes of fallen timber, and every manner of woody chaos; and when at length we swung and tumbled off the ledge to the general slope, we exchanged only for more disagreeable going.  The slope for a couple of thousand feet was steep enough; but it was formed of granite rocks all moss-covered, so that the footing could not be determined, and at short intervals we nearly went out of sight in holes under the treacherous carpeting.  Add to this that stems of great trees were laid longitudinally and transversely and criss-cross over and among the rocks, and the reader can see that a good deal of work needs to be done to make this a practicable highway for anything but a squirrel....

We had had no water since our daylight breakfast:  our lunch on the mountain had been moistened only by the fog.  Our thirst began to be that of Tantalus, because we could hear the water running deep down among the rocks, but we could not come at it.  The imagination drank the living stream, and we realized anew what delusive food the imagination furnishes in an actual strait.  A good deal of the crime of this world, I am convinced, is the direct result of the unlicensed play of the imagination in adverse circumstances.  This reflection had nothing to do with our actual situation; for we added to our imagination patience, and to our patience long-suffering, and probably all the Christian virtues would have been developed in us if the descent had been long enough.  Before we reached the bottom of Caribou Pass, the water burst out from the rocks in a clear stream that was as cold as ice.  Shortly after, we struck the roaring brook that issues from the Pass to the south.  It is a stream full of character, not navigable even for trout in the upper part, but a succession of falls, cascades, flumes, and pools that would delight an artist.  It is not an easy bed for anything except water to descend; and before we reached the level reaches, where the stream flows with a murmurous noise through open woods, one of our party began to show signs of exhaustion.