foot of the 'falls,' was a basin, worn away by the torrent, and in
which the water, clear and cold, then stood to the depth of three or
four feet. We were toiling painfully up, when I heard a rush above,
and in an instant my friend came like an arrow past me, sliding down
the shelving rocks on his back, or rather in a half-sitting posture,
his rear to the rocks. I won't undertake to say that the fire flew as
he went by me, for the rocks were slate, and therefore such a
phenomenon was not likely to occur, but the entire absence of the seat
of my friend's pantaloons, and the blood that trickled down to his
toes, showed that the friction was considerable. As he passed me, I
heard him exclaim, 'thank God,' and the next instant he plunged into
the cold water at the base of the falls. What there was to be thankful
for in such a descent over the rocks, I could not at the time
comprehend, as the chances were in favor of a broken back, or neck, or
some other consummation equally out of the range of gratitude, in an
ordinary way. He came up out of the water blowing and snorting like a
porpoise with a cold in his head, and waded to the shore. 'Come down,'
he shouted, which I did, not quite so far or fast as he did, but fast
enough to make an involuntary plunge, head foremost, into the pool at
the bottom. The occasion of his catastrophe was this: he had ascended
so near the table rock, that his hands were upon it, and was lifting
himself up, when, as his eyes came above the surface, the edge upon
which his hands with most of his weight rested, gave way, and he
started for the basin below. But he had a view of what satisfied him
that to this accident he owed his life, and it was a sense of
gratitude for his escape, that prompted the exclamation I heard as he
went bumping past me. Coiled on the rock above, and within reach of
his face, were several large rattlesnakes, and he always insisted that
one made a spring at him, as his hands gave way, and he put out for
the basin into which he plunged. He was a good deal bruised, but his
escape from the poisonous reptiles reconciled him to that."

CHAPTER XXV.

HEADED TOWARDS HOME--THE MARTIN AND SABLE HUNTER--HIS
CABIN--AUTUMNAL SCENERY.

We concluded that we would break up our camp in the morning, and drift
leisurely back towards civilization. We had tarried upon this
beautiful lake until we had explored its romantic nooks, and we
started on our return to our old camping ground