Before leaving home, I asked Pa why they called it Florida Mountain and why they called a little town on top Florida, and he said because that was its name. Anyhow, they call 'em that. Before Hoosac Tunnel was built under the mountain, a stage coach made regular trips over it, along the road we were going to take. That was the only way people had to get to Greenfield and the other towns on the east side, without going south to Pittsfield and from there going over Mount Washington on the Boston & Albany Railroad. Now, there is a big hole under the mountain, more than four miles long, and trains go through in a few minutes. After we had eaten and had a good rest, we started up a road, which we could see winding up the mountainside, far above us. "Now, boys," said Mr. Norton, "we don't have to make this trip all in one day. We are out for fun and to learn something about scouting; if we climb too far in this hot sun it will get to be work instead of play. I propose that we climb slowly, taking plenty of time to enjoy the wonderful views that will unfold before us with every turn of the road. You boys can stop whenever you feel like it, to rest, or explore, or shoot. Before we get to the top, we'll pitch our tents near some spring, in full view of the valley and setting sun. We'll plan it so as to have several hours of daylight left after we go into camp for the night. What do you say?" That suited us all right and away we went, with Benny driving, and the old horse moving along in good shape. Say, no tunnels for us, after this! Tunnels are all right when you are in a hurry. But were we in a hurry? I guess not! It was just as Mr. Norton had told us. At every turn of the road, and mountain roads wind around with a lot of turns instead of going straight up, we stopped to look back over the valley. And every time we stopped it looked different. It was great. And the higher we climbed, the better it looked and the farther we could see, until the whole valley lay before us, all the way to Pittsfield and west toward the Hudson. To the north, the Green Mountains of Vermont looked blue in the distance. Across the valley, on the south, old Greylock put his head up above the other peaks and watched us, wondering, we thought, why we were going up Florida Mountain instead of climbing over him. "Hurray!" yelled Skinny. "I'm Captain Clark, exploring the great Northwest." "I'm Captain Lewis," shouted Benny, strutting around and waving his bow. "Me Injun chief," said Bill. "Ugh! Heap pale face get lost. No find trail. Injun show um way." Then he gave such a yell that it scared the horse and we hardly could keep up. About four o'clock in the afternoon we came to a spring near the top of the mountain, and a little beyond, through the trees, we could see a grassy slope, just the place for our camp.