akes themselves are elevated some
twelve hundred feet, perhaps, above the level of the sea, and the
climate is correspondingly bracing and delightful. There are at Saranac
two inns, at either of which the traveller can make himself very
comfortable. At six o'clock P. M., we found ourselves at the house
immediately upon the lake, and, after an excellent supper, were ready
for a row upon the clear, shining water. The evening was delightful, the
sun just setting, the low, wooded shores (rising beyond into higher
hills) flooded with golden light, the temperature elysian, our oarsman
broad browed, broad shouldered, and athletic, our boat one of the fairy
craft, sharp at both ends, and light as possible, borne by guides over
portages from lake to lake, and the whole scene as placidly beautiful
and reposeful as the most vivid imagination could desire. War,
contention, suffering, even the law, trade, politics, or any acute state
of feeling, seemed incomprehensible excrescences upon the normal state
of man's being, which there, indeed, appeared to be an endless floating
over placid waters, with the tinkling of oars and the even song of birds
for all needful sounds, and those long, low, slanting rays of golden
light forever stealing through half-closed lids, and steeping the nerves
and brain and tired senses in long dreams of peace and quietude--dreams
without the wearisomeness of monotony or the shock of awaking.

Night, however, came at last, and with it forgetfulness; morning, too,
came in due season, and with it, the daily call for active thought and
exertion.

From Saranac, by means of boats, guides, and camping out, delightful
excursions can be made through the lakes, the two Saranacs, Round, Long,
and Racket Lakes, and the Racket River. This region has been much
travelled and often described.

Our faces, however, must be turned eastward, and the following day found
us again in our wagon, _en route_ for Placid Lake. To reach this, we
left the return stage about two miles west of North Elba, and walked
northward two miles through open country and some beautiful woodland,
until we came out upon Bennet's Pond, on whose shore stands the pleasant
farmhouse where we intended to pass the night. The owner and his family
were absent, but we found a smiling little handmaiden, who brought us a
cooling draught, and an antique whaler, who offered to show us the way
to Lake Placid and give us a row.

Placid Lake is a beautiful, clear