we decided upon our course, and held on to the west. The descent was
very gradual. Traces of bear and deer were noted at different
points, but not a live animal was seen.

About four o'clock we reached the bank of a stream flowing west.
Hail to the Beaverkill! and we pushed on along its banks. The trout
were plenty, and rose quickly to the hook; but we held on our way,
designing to go into camp about six o'clock. Many inviting places,
first on one bank, then on the other, made us linger, till finally
we reached a smooth, dry place overshadowed by balsam and hemlock,
where the creek bent around a little flat, which was so entirely to
our fancy that we unslung our knapsacks at once. While my companions
were cutting wood and making other preparations for the night, it
fell to my lot, as the most successful angler, to provide the
trout for supper and breakfast. How shall I describe that wild,
beautiful stream, with features so like those of all other
mountain streams? And yet, as I saw it in the deep twilight of those
woods on that June afternoon, with its steady, even flow, and its
tranquil, many-voiced murmur, it made an impression upon my mind
distinct and peculiar, fraught in an eminent degree with the charm
of seclusion and remoteness. The solitude was perfect, and I felt
that strangeness and insignificance which the civilized man must
always feel when opposing himself to such a vast scene of silence
and wildness. The trout were quite black, like all wood trout, and
took the bait eagerly. I followed the stream till the deepening
shadows warned me to turn back. As I neared camp, the fire shone far
through the trees, dispelling the gathering gloom, but blinding my
eyes to all obstacles at my feet. I was seriously disturbed on
arriving to find that one of my companions had cut an ugly gash in
his shin with the axe while felling a tree. As we did not carry a
fifth wheel, it was not just the time or place to have any of our
members crippled, and I had bodings of evil. But, thanks to the
healing virtues of the balsam which must have adhered to the blade
of the axe, and double thanks to the court-plaster with which
Orville had supplied himself before leaving home, the wounded leg,
by being favored that night and the next day, gave us little
trouble.

[Illustration: THE BEAVERKILL]

That night we had our first fair and square camping out,--that is,
sleeping on the ground with no shelter over us but the trees,--and
it