and one deer hunt is very much like another; and though the excitement is ever new to him who is engaged in them, they have no freshness in the description.

Long Lake is one of the most beautiful sheets of water I ever floated over, and its frame-work of mountains becomes the glorious picture. No artist has ever yet visited it; and alas, as I have no skill with the pencil, its beauties, like the "rose in the wilderness," must, for a while, blush unseen. I never saw a more beautiful island than "Round Island," as it is called, situated midway of the lake. As you look at it from above or below, it appears to stand between two promontories, whose green and rounded points are striving to reach it as they push boldly out into the water; while, with its abrupt, high banks, from which go up the lofty pine trees, it looks like a huge green cylinder, sunk there endwise, in the waves. I wished I owned that island-it would be pleasant to be possessor of so much beauty.

Mitchell went yesterday to the foot of this lake to meet his father and sister, who were on the way to visit him. They had started some time before, a hundred and fifty miles distant, in a bark canoe, and

he calculated that, that day or the next, they would be at the outlet. He not having returned, I thought in the afternoon I would row down and find him. I had some thirteen miles to go, and unfortunately, neither of the two young men with me could handle the oars or steer, so I stripped to the task. Luckily, however, there was a strong gale blowing down the lake, and I landed on an island and cut a bush, which I hung over with pocket handerchiefs to make it hold the wind, and then set it upright in the centre of the boat as a mainsail. The breeze was strong and steady, and worked admirably. Far away to the southwest, the golden sky shone in brilliant colors, and over its illuminated depths the fragmentary clouds went trooping as if joyous with life, while to the northwest, towards which our frail craft was driving, the heavens were black as midnight, and the retiring storm-cloud looked dark and fierce-retreating, though still unconquered. The sun was hastening to the ridge of the sky-seeking mountains, and his departing beams threw in still deeper contrast the black masses that curtained in the eastern heavens. But still the waves kept dancing in the light, as if determined not to be frowned out of their frolic, and it was

with no little pleasure I saw that threatening cloud yield to the balmy and swift careering breeze that swept the bosom of the lake.

At length, just as we were glancing away from the head of a beautiful island, I saw a boat coming towards us, impelled against the wind by the steady strokes of a powerful rower. As it shot near, I bcheld the swarthy and benevolent face of Mitchell. He lay on his oars a minute to hear my salutation and my proposition, then pointed to a deep bay a mile distant, around which stretched a white line of sand; and again bent to his oars. I followed after, for I knew there was his camp; and soon after our boats grated on the smooth beach, and we were sitting beside a bark shanty, and discussing our future plans. But those few barks, piled against some poles, were not enough to cover us, and soon every one was at work, peeling spruce trees, or picking hemlock boughs. The cloudless sun went proudly, nay, to me, triumphantly to his royal couch amid the mountain summits —and as twilight deepened over the wild landscape, our camp fire shot its cheerful flame heavenward, and we lay scattered around amid the trees in delightful indolence. Mitchell had caught some trout, and these,

with the contents of our knapsacks, furnished us a noble supper. With my back against a stump, I held a splendid trout in one hand, while my hunting-knife in the other, peeled off his salmon-colored sides in most tempting, delicious morsels.

After supper I asked Mitchell if we could not get a deer before going to bed. He said yes, if the wind went down so that we could float them. This floating deer I will describe in another place, for there was no stirring out that night. The wrathful little swells came rushing furiously against the unoffending beach, the tall tree-tops swayed to and fro, and sighed in the blast our roughly-fanned fire threw its sparks in swift eddies heavenward, and all betokened a wild and fearful night. "No boat must leave the beach," and so carefully loading our rifles and setting them up against the trees, we began to prepare for our night's repose. Some with their heads under the bark shanty, and their feet to the fire-others in the open forest, with their heads across a stick of wood-lay stretched their full length upon the earth. I lay down for a while, but the wind, which had increased at sunset, now blew furiously, filling the forest with such an uproar that it was with difficulty I could shake off

the delusion that I was in the midst of t Ocean. I could not sleep, so rising from my couch of boughs, I went out and sat down on the ground, and looked and listened. The steady roar of the waves on the beach below mingled in with the rush of the blast above, the tall trees rocked and swung on every side, and flung out their long arms into the night —their leafy tresses streaming before them-and groaned on their ancient foundations with a deep and steady sound-till my heart was filled with emotions at once solemn and fearful. To add to the sublimity and terror of the scene, ever and anon came a dull and heavy shock, like the report of distant cannon. It was made by a tree falling all alone there, in the depths of the forest. Oh, what strange emotions those muffled echoes awoke within me. Sometimes I thought one of these gigantic forms near me, must also fall in the struggle, and crush some of our company into the carth; and then again forgetting the danger, my soul would bow to the lordly music, till that great primeval forest seemed one vast harp-its trunks and branches the mighty wires, and the strong blast the fierce and fearless hand that swept them. Now faint and far in the distance I could catch the coming