,
however, was owing more to the great height than to the thickness of the
trees, for he could not see one that appeared more than thirty inches in
diameter. The trees here were chiefly oaks, hiccory, hemlock, and beech;
intermixed with which appeared great numbers of smooth-barked, or
Weymouth pines. A profusion of wild raspberries were growing in the
woods.

After having experienced almost inconceivable difficulty, in consequence
of the badness of the road; and having occupied five hours in travelling
only twelve miles, Mr. Weld arrived at _Skenesborough_. This is a little
town, which stands near the southern extremity of Lake Champlain. It
consisted, at this time, of only twelve houses, and was dreadfully
infested with musquitoes, a large kind of gnats, which abound in the
swampy parts of all hot countries. Such myriads of these insects
attacked Mr. Weld, the first night of his sleeping there, that, when he
rose in the morning, his face and hands were covered with large
pustules, like those of a person in the small-pox. The situation of
Skenesborough, on the margin of a piece of water which is almost
stagnant, and which is shaded by thick woods, is peculiarly favourable
to the increase of these insects.

Shortly after their arrival in Skenesborough, Mr. Weld, and two
gentlemen by whom he was accompanied, hired a boat of about ten tons
burden, for the purpose of crossing _Lake Champlain_. The vessel sailed
at one o'clock in the day; but, as the channel was narrow, and the wind
adverse, they were only able to proceed about six miles before sunset.
Having brought the vessel to an anchor, the party landed and walked to
some adjacent farm-houses, in the hope of obtaining provisions; but they
were not able to procure any thing except milk and cheese. The next day
they reached _Ticonderoga_. Here the only dwelling was a tavern, a large
house built of stone. On entering it, the party was shown into a
spacious apartment, crowded with boatmen and other persons, who had just
arrived from St. John's in Canada. The man of the house was a judge; a
sullen, demure old gentleman, who sate by the fire, with tattered
clothes and dishevelled locks, reading a book, and was totally
regardless of every person in the house.

The old fort and barracks of Ticonderoga, are on the top of a rising
ground, just behind the tavern: they were at this time in ruins, and it
is not likely that they ever will be rebuilt; for the situation is a
very