r and square camping out,--that is,
sleeping on the ground with no shelter over us but the trees,--and it
was in many respects the pleasantest night we spent in the woods. The
weather was perfect and the place was perfect, and for the first time
we were exempt from the midges and smoke; and then we appreciated the
clean new page we had to work on. Nothing is so acceptable to the
camper-out as a pure article in the way of woods and waters. Any
admixture of human relics mars the spirit of the scene. Yet I am
willing to confess that, before we were through those woods, the marks
of an axe in a tree were a welcome sight. On resuming our march next
day we followed the right bank of the Beaverkill, in order to strike a
stream which flowed in from the north, and which was the outlet of
Balsam Lake, the objective point of that day's march. The distance to
the lake from our camp could not have been over six or seven miles;
yet, traveling as we did, without path or guide, climbing up banks,
plunging into ravines, making detours around swampy places, and forcing
our way through woods choked up with much fallen and decayed timber, it
seemed at least twice that distance, and the mid-afternoon sun was
shining when we emerged into what is called the "Quaker Clearing,"
ground that I had been over nine years before, and that lies about two
miles south of the lake. From this point we had a well-worn path that
led us up a sharp rise of ground, then through level woods till we saw
the bright gleam of the water through the trees.

I am always struck, on approaching these little mountain lakes, with
the extensive preparation that is made for them in the conformation of
the ground. I am thinking of a depression, or natural basin, in the
side of the mountain or on its top, the brink of which I shall reach
after a little steep climbing; but instead of that, after I have
accomplished the ascent, I find a broad sweep of level or gently
undulating woodland that brings me after a half hour or so to the lake,
which lies in this vast lap like a drop of water in the palm of a man's
hand.

Balsam Lake was oval-shaped, scarcely more than half a mile long and a
quarter of a mile wide, but presented a charming picture, with a group
of dark gray hemlocks filling the valley about its head, and the
mountains rising above and beyond. We found a bough house in good
repair, also a dug-out and paddle and several floats of logs. In the
dug-out I was soon creepi