ver towards a deep bay on the west shore, to where a
stream comes cascading down the rocks, and leaping into the lake, as
if rejoicing at finding a resting-place in its quiet bosom. The spot
where this stream enters, is in the deep shadow of the old forest
trees that reach their leafy arms far out from the ledges on which
they grow, forming an arch above, and shutting out the sunlight. Here
the trout congregate, to enjoy the cool water that comes down from the
hills above. We approached it carefully, and Smith, by way of
experiment, cast his fly across the current where the stream enters
the lake. It was seized by a beautiful fish weighing, perhaps, two
pounds. We did not need him, for the place where we proposed to pitch
our tents for the night would afford us all the fish required, and
after lifting him into the boat with the landing-net and releasing
the hook from his jaw, we returned him to the lake again.

Two miles from the head of the lake, on the east side, is a deep bay
at the head of which enters a little brook that comes creeping along
for a mile among the tangled roots of ancient hemlocks and spruce,
singing gaily among the loose stones, sometimes disappearing entirely
beneath bridges of moss, and sometimes sparkling in the sunlight, on
its way to the lake. This little stream we found swarming with
speckled trout of the size of minnows, and at its mouth the large
trout congregated. As we rounded one of the points that shut out the
view of this bay from the lake, we saw two deer feeding quietly upon
the lily pads along the shore, some quarter of a mile from us. We
dropped quietly back behind the point, where Smith and one of the
boatmen prepared to take a shot at them. Martin took his seat in the
stern with his paddle, and Smith lay stretched at length along the
bottom of the boat upon boughs prepared for the occasion, with his
rifle resting upon the forward end of the boat. It was broad daylight,
and to paddle up within shooting distance of a deer under such
circumstances, in plain view of an animal the most wary, is a delicate
job, but it may be done. I have more than once been thus paddled
within thirty yards of a deer while feeding in the water. The wind
must be blowing from the deer to the hunter, or the scent will alarm
the animal, and he will go snorting and bounding away.

Smith and Martin passed silently out into the bay, and moved slowly
towards where the deer were feeding. The boat in which we sat