nine in the evening
The lake itself was in a cup of the mountains , whose slopes in the distance looked as if covered with fur , so dense were the woods . Only one high peak , burnt bare by fire , was still covered with snow . The camp was in a grove of pines , but the trees that crowded one another almost out into the lake among the lily pads were spruce and balsam and maple . The party arrived at half-past nine in the evening , and crossed the lake in a motor launch . It was very dark and the forest surrounding the calm expanse of water looked like an impenetrable wall , an unscalable rampart . There was not a sound but the faint chugging of the motor . The members of the party , tired after their long trip on the train and two hours ' drive up the rough road from the station to the lake , surrendered to the high mountain stillness , and even Rollo Todd , who had been in his best spirits all day , fell silent and forgot that he was a jolly good fellow , remembered only that he was a poet .