neven and somewhat
elevated plain. To the north stretched the limpid, and, as it appeared
from that dizzy height, the narrow sheet of the "holy lake," indented
with numberless bays, embellished by fantastic headlands, and dotted
with countless islands. At the distance of a few leagues, the bed of the
waters became lost among mountains, or was wrapped in the masses of
vapor that came slowly rolling along their bosom, before a light morning
air. But a narrow opening between the crests of the hills pointed out
the passage by which they found their way still farther north, to spread
their pure and ample sheets again, before pouring out their tribute into
the distant Champlain. To the south stretched the defile, or rather
broken plain, so often mentioned. For several miles in this direction,
the mountains appeared reluctant to yield their dominion, but within
reach of the eye they diverged, and finally melted into the level and
sandy lands, across which we have accompanied our adventurers in their
double journey. Along both ranges of hills, which bounded the opposite
sides of the lake and valley, clouds of light vapor were rising in
spiral wreaths from the uninhabited woods, looking like the smokes of
hidden cottages; or rolled lazily down the declivities, to mingle with
the fogs of the lower land. A single, solitary, snow-white cloud floated
above the valley, and marked the spot beneath which lay the silent pool
of the "bloody pond."

Directly on the shore of the lake, and nearer to its western than to its
eastern margin, lay the extensive earthen ramparts and low buildings of
William Henry. Two of the sweeping bastions appeared to rest on the
water which washed their bases, while a deep ditch and extensive
morasses guarded its other sides and angles. The land had been cleared
of wood for a reasonable distance around the work, but every other part
of the scene lay in the green livery of nature, except where the limpid
water mellowed the view, or the bold rocks thrust their black and naked
heads above the undulating outline of the mountain ranges. In its front
might be seen the scattered sentinels, who held a weary watch against
their numerous foes; and within the walls themselves, the travellers
looked down upon men still drowsy with a night of vigilance. Towards the
southeast, but in immediate contact with the fort, was an entrenched
camp, posted on a rocky eminence, that would have been far more eligible
for the work itse