camp-fire glowed splendidly through the overhanging branches and
foliage, and I longed for a revel of light. I asked the guides to make a
"blaze," and, after a minute's delay and an ejaculation of "_Game, to
your high, low, jack_," they emerged from the tent and in a few minutes
had cut down several small dead spruces and piled the tops on the fire,
which flashed up through the pitchy, inflammable mass, and we had a
pyrotechnical display which startled the birds, that had gone to rest in
the assurance of night, into a confused activity and clamor. The heat
penetrated the camp and gave me a drowsiness which my disturbed repose
of the night before rendered extremely grateful, and when the rest of
the party returned from their row, I was asleep.

It was determined, the next morning, in council, to move; and one of the
guides having informed us of a newly-opened carry, by which we could
cross from Little Tupper's Lake, ten miles above us, directly to Forked
Lake, and thence following the usual route down the Raquette River and
through Long Lake, we could reach Martin's on Saranac Lake without
retracing our steps, except over the short distance from the Raquette
through the Saranac Lakes,--after breakfast, we hurriedly packed up our
traps and were off as early as might be. It is hard boating up the Bog
River, and hard work both for guides and tourists. All the boats and
baggage had to be carried three miles, on the backs of the guides, and,
help them as much as we could, the day had drawn nearly to its close
before we were fairly embarked on Little Tupper's, and we had then
nearly ten miles to go before reaching Constable's Camp, where we were
to stop for the night. I worked hard all day, but in a kind of dream, as
if the dead weight I carried with weariness were only the phantom of
something, and I were a fantasy carrying it;--the actual had become
visionary, and my imaginings nudged me and jostled me almost off the
path of reason. But I had no time for a _seance_ with my daemon. The next
day I devoted with the guides to bushing out the carry across to Forked
Lake, about three and a half miles, through perfectly pathless woods;
for we found Sam's statements as to the carry being chopped out entirely
false; only a blazed line existed; so all the guides, except one, set to
work with myself bushing and chopping out, while the other guide and the
rest of the party spent the day in hunting. At the close of the day we
had complete