ces we never
should have adopted, we all but insisted on being admitted into the
boat. An angry growling consent was extorted from the surly Charon, and
we hastily entered the frail bark, which seemed hardly calculated to
convey us in safety to the opposite shore.

I could not help indulging in a feeling of indescribable fear, as I
listened to the torrent of profane invective that burst forth
continually from the lips of the boatman. Once or twice we were in
danger of being overset by the boughs of the pines and cedars which had
fallen into the water near the banks. Right glad was I when we reached
the opposite shores; but here a new trouble arose: there was yet more
untracked wood to cross before we again met the skiff which had to pass
up a small rapid, and meet us at the head of the small lake, an
expansion of the Otanabee a little below Peterborough. At the distance
of every few yards our path was obstructed by fallen trees, mostly
hemlock, spruce, or cedar, the branches of which are so thickly
interwoven that it is scarcely possible to separate them, or force a
passage through the tangled thicket which they form.

Had it not been for the humane assistance of our conductor, I know not
how I should have surmounted these difficulties. Sometimes I was ready
to sink down from very weariness. At length I hailed, with a joy I could
hardly have supposed possible, the gruff voice of the Irish rower, and,
after considerable grumbling on his part, we were again seated.

Glad enough we were to see, by the blazing light of an enormous log-
heap, the house of our friend. Here we received the offer of a guide to
show us the way to the town by a road cut through the wood. We partook
of the welcome refreshment of tea, and, having gained a little strength
by a short rest, we once more commenced our journey, guided by a ragged,
but polite, Irish boy, whose frankness and good humour quite won our
regards. He informed us he was one of seven orphans, who had lost father
and mother in the cholera. It was a sad thing, he said, to be left
fatherless and motherless, in a strange land; and he swept away the
tears that gathered in his eyes as he told the simple, but sad tale of
his early bereavement; but added, cheerfully, he had met with a kind
master, who had taken some of his brothers and sisters into his service
as well as himself.

Just as we were emerging from the gloom of the wood we found our
progress impeded by a _creek_, as the