ork, and maple-sugar; while I had my case of rods, creel, and
book of flies, and Luke had an axe and the kitchen utensils. We think
nothing of loads of this sort in the woods.

Five miles through a tamarack swamp brought us to the inlet of Unknown
Pond, upon which we embarked our fleet, and paddled down its vagrant
waters. They were at first sluggish, winding among triste fir-trees, but
gradually developed a strong current. At the end of three miles a
loud roar ahead warned us that we were approaching rapids, falls,
and cascades. We paused. The danger was unknown. We had our choice
of shouldering our loads and making a detour through the woods, or of
"shooting the rapids." Naturally we chose the more dangerous course.
Shooting the rapids has often been described, and I will not repeat
the description here. It is needless to say that I drove my frail bark
through the boiling rapids, over the successive waterfalls, amid rocks
and vicious eddies, and landed, half a mile below with whitened hair
and a boat half full of water; and that the guide was upset, and boat,
contents, and man were strewn along the shore.

After this common experience we went quickly on our journey, and, a
couple of hours before sundown, reached the lake. If I live to my dying
day, I never shall forget its appearance. The lake is almost an exact
circle, about a quarter of a mile in diameter. The forest about it was
untouched by axe, and unkilled by artificial flooding. The azure water
had a perfect setting of evergreens, in which all the shades of the
fir, the balsam, the pine, and the spruce were perfectly blended; and
at intervals on the shore in the emerald rim blazed the ruby of the
cardinal flower. It was at once evident that the unruffled waters had
never been vexed by the keel of a boat. But what chiefly attracted my
attention, and amused me, was the boiling of the water, the bubbling and
breaking, as if the lake were a vast kettle, with a fire underneath. A
tyro would have been astonished at this common phenomenon; but sportsmen
will at once understand me when I say that the water boiled with the
breaking trout. I studied the surface for some time to see upon what
sort of flies they were feeding, in order to suit my cast to their
appetites; but they seemed to be at play rather than feeding, leaping
high in the air in graceful curves, and tumbling about each other as we
see them in the Adirondack pictures.

It is well known that no person who