"I struck at once into the woods, and guiding myself by an occasional
glimpse of the sun that had now risen, I kept on in a south-easterly
course. It was my intention to get out on the edge of the flood some
distance below, when I could then skirt around it. After cutting my way
through the brambles to the distance of nearly a mile, I came suddenly
out upon the bank of the rivulet; and guess my surprise, on seeing that
the stream was not only not swollen, but there was even less water than
usual running in its channel! I noticed, however, that the water was
muddy, and that green leaves and fresh broken twigs were floating down
upon its current.

"Of course, I now turned my face up-stream, knowing that the dam must be
in that direction; but, for my life, I could not imagine how any
accident of Nature could have stopped up the channel above. The falling
of trees could not possibly have produced such an effect; and there were
no high bluffs abutting on the rivulet, that could have fallen into its
bed. I began to believe that human hands had been at work; and I looked
for the prints of human feet. I saw none, but the tracks of animals
were numerous. Thousands of them, at least--great broad feet, webbed
like those of a duck, but with sharp claws--were impressed in the sand
and mud, all along the banks of the stream.

"I moved forward very cautiously; for, although I could not discover
their tracks, I was still fearful that Indians, and of course enemies,
were near. At length, I reached a bend in the stream, above which I
remembered that the channel was narrower, and ran between banks of a
considerable height. I remembered it well--for, on first entering the
valley, we had been obliged at this place to draw the wagon out of the
bed of the rivulet, and cut a way for it through the adjacent woods. No
doubt, then, I would there find the obstacle that had so mysteriously
intercepted the current.

"On reaching this bend, I climbed out upon the bank; and, stealing
silently through the underwood, peeped through the leaves. A most
singular scene was before me.

"The stream, as I had rightly conjectured, was dammed up, at the point
where the channel was narrowest, but not by any accident. The work bore
the marks of design, as much as if it had been constructed by human
hands. A tall tree had been felled across the stream--so that the place
where it had been cut through was not detached from the stump, but still
held