te attentions of the "Marked Back."

This _sobriquet_ they conferred upon him partly on account of the fact
that he usually received his wounds while leaving their immediate
vicinity, and partly because of a peculiar characteristic of the kind of
cards he used.

The Commissioners caught ROGERS out hunting, and chased him until he
came to this precipice, down which he slid into the Lake below, and,
unfortunately, escaped unharmed.

The Indians, who were pursuing him by the imprints of his snow-shoes,
soon arrived at the brink. Seeing what had occurred, they concluded to
"let him slide."

Hence the name.

Evidently they thought, from the trail, that he must have gone over.
Though he was by no means a missionary, the Tracks he had left produced
a profound impression on their untutored minds.

They at once concluded that he was drowned, or had got "in with" some
bad spirits.

It is obvious, however, to the most casual observer of the place, that
the reverse must have been the case. The bad spirits were in him.

The mark worn by Mr. R's "cheviots" in his descent can still be
distinctly seen.

About half way up is a shining object which is generally believed to be
a suspender button.

This, however, is merely conjectural.

The clerk of the boat, of whom I have spoken before, tells me that until
within a few years back, the hole in the water where ROGERS struck could
be seen.

"But it is all gone now," he said, shaking his head sadly. "Nothing can
escape the Vandal horde of tourists and relic hunters. Piece by piece
they have carried the hole away, and there is no trace of it left now."

And he "wept at my tranquillity."

At the north end of the Lake we took stages for Fort Ticonderoga. These
vehicles were run by a man who was pointed out as a "character," which
means a sort of licensed nuisance.

The monomania of this individual was speech making, and much reflection
inclines me to the belief that he is some unappreciated politician who
has invented a way of "taking it out" on the unhappy public as follows:

He waits until his five immense stages arrive at some remote and
solitary part of the road, then draws them up in a semi-circle, mounts a
stump, and--on pretence of exhibiting the beauties of nature--proceeds
to harangue the helpless fares to the top of his very high bent, or
until one of the slumbering "outsides" creates a welcome diversion by
falling off and breaking his neck.

We came to what was