lied, "In no wise." The instant reply
surprised me, without startling me from my lethargy. I responded, as a
matter of course, "But if no more than a dream, it amounts to nothing."
It answered me, "But when a man dreams wide awake?" I pondered an
instant, and it went on: "And how do you know that dreams are nothing?
They are real while they last, and your waking life is no more; you wake
to one and sleep to the other. Which is the real, and which the false?
since you assume that one is false." I only asked myself again the
eternal question, "Objective or subjective?" and the daemon made no
further suggestion. At this instant we heard the report of a gun from
the lake. "That's the Doctor's shot-gun," said Steve, and pulled
energetically down-stream; for we knew, that, if the Doctor had fired,
the deer had come in,--and if he had missed the first shot, he had a
second barrel, which we should have heard from.

Among the most charming cascades in the world is certainly that which
Bog River makes where it falls into Tupper's Lake. Its amber water,
black in the deep channel above the fall, dividing into several small
streams, slips with a plunge of, it may be, six feet over the granite
rocks, into a broad, deep pool, round which tall pines stand, and over
which two or three delicate-leaved white-birches lean, from which basin
the waters plunge in the final foamy rush of thirty or forty feet over
the irregularly broken ledge which makes the bold shore of the lake.
Between the two points of rock which confine the stream is thrown a
bridge, part of the military road from the Mohawk settlements to those
on the St. Lawrence, built during the war of 1812. On this bridge I
waited until Steve had carried the boat around, when we reembarked for
the camp.

Arriving at the landing, we found two of the guides dressing the
Doctor's deer, and the others preparing for dinner. As night came on my
excitement returned, and I remained in the camp while the others went
out on the lake,--not from fear of such an experience as I had the night
before, for I enjoyed the wild emotions, as one enjoys the raging of the
sea around the rocks he stands on, with a kind of tremulous
apprehension,--but to see what effect the camp would produce on the
state of feeling which I had begun to look at as something normal in my
mental development. The rest of the party had gone out in two boats, and
three of the guides, taking another, went on an excursion of thei