ng, its banks are
craggy, steep, and high, the general impression grand and somewhat
desolate. The dam, by raising the water, has destroyed many of the trees
along the shore, and filled the upper portion with driftwood, which
blocks the channel and is altogether unsightly. There is a winter road,
a mile in length, cut through the forest from the Lower to the Upper
Pond. This road is so overgrown that in summer it is a mere pathway. The
Upper Pond reached, we again embarked in a light boat, our young athlete
rowing. Uncle David had quitted us at the upper lake. This row was not
necessary, the path to Tahawus, or Mount _Mercy_, as our guides called
it, turning off at a right angle from the lower end of the upper lake,
but was taken to show us the inexpressibly lovely Upper Pond, and
transport us to certain bark shanties presumed to offer excellent
facilities for dining purposes. The lake is about two miles long, and
one broad. Its shores are gently sloping, and wooded with splendid trees
of the primeval forest, beech, birch, maple, and spruce. The soil is
excellent, and the wild flowers and mosses are luxuriant and abundant.
The steep rocks circling the Lower Pond are visible through a cleft, the
singular, jagged ridge known as the Gothic Mountains is in full view,
the sharp peak of the Haystack lifts its bare top far into the skies,
the North River Mountain crowns the south, and graceful waving lines of
wooded hill complete the circle; the clear water gives back the most
wonderful reflections, and those 'ladies of the forest,' the white
birches, could ask no more transparent mirror. There is nothing to mar
the effect of the whole, no driftwood, no burnt patches, no
ragged-looking clearing--all is harmonious and entirely satisfactory.

Our dinner was a light one. Indeed, our experience was, that while we
required a substantial breakfast and supper, but little was needed in
the middle of the day, and that little better cold than warm.

Returning in the boat to the end of the lake, we struck into the pathway
to Tahawus, a track of hunters, marked by sable traps; and here began
work in earnest. The pioneer took the lead, sweating and grumbling under
his load, for the day was warm, and the sun but little over an hour past
the meridian. Fortunately, he was not a very rapid walker, making only
from two to two and a half miles per hour, so there was no danger of
fatigue to any of the party, except to our Diogenes, who measures