slender growth, dead at the top, and with lichens and moss hanging
down in sad and draggled festoons from their desolate branches. It is,
in truth, a gloomy place, typical of desolation, which it is well to
see once, but which no one will desire to visit a second time. We
noticed on the sandy beach tracks of the wolf, the panther, the moose,
and in one place the huge track of a bear. He must have been of
monstrous growth, judging by the impression of his great feet and
claws in the sand. But we saw none of these animals, and so gloomy is
the place, so sepulchral, such an air of desolation all around, that
it brings over the mind a strong feeling of sadness and gloom, and we
resolved not to tarry beyond the nest morning, even for the chance of
taking a moose, a panther, or a bear.
We pitched our tent, as I said, a little way back from the lake, near
a cold spring, that came boiling up through the white sand in a little
basin, eight feet wide, the bottom of which, like that on the bank of
Tupper's Lake, was all in commotion, boiling and bubbling, as the
water forced its way up through it. I was in the forward boat as we
approached the lake, and was surprised to see the number of deer
feeding upon the lily pads in the shallow water, and the wild grass
that grew along the shore. Some stood midside in the water, some with
only the line of their backs and heads above it. Some were close
along the shore, feeding upon the grass that grew there. Others still
were nibbling at the leaves of the moosewood upon the bank, and one
large buck stood by the side of a fir tree, rubbing his neck up and
down against it, as if scratching himself against its rough bark. We
had not been discovered, and waited for the other boats to arrive.
Great was the astonishment of my companions, when they saw the number
of deer that were feeding in this little lake. Neither of them had
ever seen the like, nor had I, save on one occasion, and that was in a
small lake, the name of which I have forgotten, lying a few miles
beyond the head of the Upper Saranac.
"You see that clump of low balsam trees on that point yonder," said my
boatman, as we lay upon our oars, pointing in the direction indicated.
"Well, from that spot, three years ago, I shot a moose out upon the
bar there, as it was feeding upon the lily pads and flag grass.
"I had heard from an old Indian hunter, about this lake, and the
abundance of game to be found here, and I made up my mind to
|