UP THE HUDSON-IN THE

WOODS-TROUT FISHING-A

QUEER FISH.

BACKWOODS, June 23.

DEAR H :

THE steam is up-the pipes are spitting forth in furious disgust volumes of vapor-the last bell is ringing, and amid the clatter of carriages, the shouts of men and clouds of steam, we are off to the centre of the Hudson, and, stretching away, like a gallant steed, rapidly divide the water northward.

As I stand on the deck and think of the broad, deep forest and its rushing streams, a feeling of freedom steals over me, I have been a stranger to, for months. The chains of conventional life begin to fall off, link after link, and I fancy I feel my blood take a new spring already. This chasing after health, though, is a discouraging business. To spend half of one's life

in keeping the other half from going out, is not, I am convinced, the chief end of man-still, it must sometimes be done, and then the pathless woods, the long and steady stretch up the mountain side and the coarse fare, are better than all the "poppies and mandrigoras" of the world to "medicine" not only the body but the mind. Your Saratoga water and Nahant bathing and Rockaway dinner tables will do, perhaps, for healthy men, cripples and women. for the reduced system that needs tone and manliness given it, strong physical exercise is demanded.

But

I passed through Saratoga Springs without stopping even to dine, but compensated for the neglect over some trout at Glen's Falls. Arriving at Lake George just before sunset, I engaged a man to carry me on, some twenty miles farther that evening. We halted a few moments at twilight at a lonely tavern on an elevated ridge, made still more desolate by the self murder of the proprietor, the year before, over whose grave a whip-poor-will was pouring its shrill and rapid note. Soon after, we began to enter the Spruce Mountain, where, for miles, not even a hut appears to cheer the sight. In the meantime, the sky became overcast, and night came down black and

A NIGHT JOURNEY.

15

threatening. The darkness at length grew so impenetrable that we could not see the horses, nor even the wagon in which we rode. Up long hills, and down into deep gulfs, with the invisible branches sweeping our faces at almost every step, we traveled on, seeing nothing but utter blackness, and not knowing but the next moment we should stumble over a precipice, or be tumbled down the slope of a "dugway." My driver, in the meantime, got excessively nervous-he had never traveled the road before, and this feeling his way, or rather allowing his horses to feel it without venturing the least control over their movements, seemed to him not the safest mode of procedure, and so after muttering awhile to himself various rather forcible expressions, he stopped and got out. Going to the heads of the horses he commenced leading them. I supposed at first that something was the matter with the harness, and said nothing; but soon finding myself moving on in the darkness, I called out to know what he was doing. "I'm afraid," he replied, "to ride, it is so dark, and I'm going to lead my horses." Just then, there came a bright flash of lightning, revealing the still and boundless forest on every side, and throwing into momentary, but bold relief, shivered

trunks and blackened stumps, and last though not least important, the horses, with my driver at their head. An instantaneous and utter blackness followed-falling on everything like a mighty pall-and then came the sullen thunder, swelling gradually from the low growl into the deep vibrating peal that shook the hills. It was my turn to feel nervous now, and the idea of walking out a thunder-storm at midnight, in these mountains, was not to be entertained a moment. Unfortunately, I can bear the worst fate better than suspense; so calling out in a tone not to be mistaken, I said, "come, get in and drive on, and drive fast, too—if we break down, we will bivouack the rest of the night under the wagon, but as for going at this snail's pace, and a thunder storm gathering over our heads, I will not permit it." With a grunt at my rashness, he clambered in and started on. "Come," said I, "whip up, neck or nothing, I can't stand this." Getting into a smart trot, we passed rapidly along, expecting every moment to feel the shock that should stop us for the night, or find ourselves describing the arc of a circle, down some declivity, the could only speculate upon.

bottom of which, we Ever and anon came

the sudden lightning, rending the gloom, succeeded 'by the rolling, rattling thunder-peal, that made the horses jump, not to mention our own pulsations. Brushed every few steps by an overhanging branch, as if struck by a mysterious hand, we kept resolutely on the good horses picking their way like Alpine mules, and the road proving itself to be far better than our fears.

At length, just as the heavy drops began to fall, we emerged into a little valley, in which nestled a rude village, the meadows of which seemed to be one mass of phosphorescence. The fire flies hung in countless numbers over the surface, forming almost a solid body of light. The effect was indescribable; all around was Egyptian darkness, except that single level spot on which the incessant flashes made a constant, yet ever tremulous light. At first, it seemed an illusion, so fluctuating and confused did everything appear; but as the eye, aided by the judgment, got accustomed to the scene, it became a beautiful creation, made on purpose to cheer the night and lessen the gloom that overhung the world.

Ah! how delicious it is after such a ride to stand under a roof and hear the big drops dashing against