NEW BRUNSWICK. 117 
the sombre lines of spruce and hemlock and juniper, as 
they ran into the deep shade or emerged into the open 
moonlight till they came in sight of the ITashwaak, 
seaming the dark earth like a vein of silver, when a glo- 
rious view presented itself to their attention. Far away 
as the eye could reach, stretched the valley of E'ashwaak, 
silent as the repose of death ; not a sound but the rat- 
tle of the wheels broke the still air, while the moon 
bathed the rocks, the earth, the trees, with its uncertain 
light, formed weird shapes out of the foliage, or cast 
strange shadows across the road. Still on, however, 
scarcely pausing — as every true sportsman must pause 
before the beauties of nature — the party were soon lost 
in the shady descent that led toward the bank of the 
stream, whose course they followed some miles, crossing 
it beyond, over a high, substantial bridge. The road 
then branched off, traversing the unbroken wilderness, 
where for miles not a habitation was visible, till mid- 
night found them amid a heavy shower at McCloud's, the 
half-way house from Fredericton to Boiestown. 
The horses under the shed, a sound tliumping on 
the door brought out the host, who attended to the wants 
of man and beast, and sent them on their way rejoicing, 
as soon as the storm had abated. There was little vari- 
ety in the scene ; the road was mostly level and good, 
the forest was of the same dull character, with many 
dead trunks towering up amid it ; there were few houses 
and no settlements, and the country was principally one 
vast plain. As the morning light began to streak the 
east with grey, they came in sight of the peaceful Mira- 
michi, and turning oif from the main road across the 
