136 NEW BRUNSWICK. 
The stage was due at six o'clock, but at six o'clock it 
did not come, nor at seven, eight, nine nor ten. "We told 
"Wilson to return for us in the morning, and retired to 
rest in the nearest tavern, leaving word to be called 
when it did come. 
At midnight there was a pounding at the door an- 
nouncing the arrival of the conveyance that was to cany 
ns and our baggage, two heavy trunks, seventy miles. It 
was a light one horse-wagon. We went to bed again, 
and next morning found the stage-driver still at Boies- 
town, having turned out his horse to graze. 
"Wilson, however, soon arrived, and we started on that 
dreary road, following the descent of the Miramichi to 
its mouth. There is one, and but one, pretty view in 
the entire seventy miles, and that is as you ascend the 
first mountain beyond Boiestown. Looking back, the 
peaceful valley that we had just left, stretching away 
to our camping-ground, lay basking in the sunlight. 
In the distance, scarcely visible among the trees, were 
the few houses that compose Campbelltown ; nearer was 
the straggling village of Boiestown, and at our feet ran 
the placid river, leaving broad intervals upon its banks, 
and meandering betw^een smiling islands. The hay was 
ripeniug in the meadow, the oats were still luxuriant in 
their fresh green, the bushes lined the occasional fences 
or marked out the narrow swamps, while here and there 
were dotted the majestic white pine, the towering spruce, 
the noble elm or the graceful willow, and a dead tree now 
and then stretched its ungainly limbs toward the clouds. 
Beyond, however, we fell into one dull, dreary routine ; 
civilization w^as behind us, the few farms once cultivated 
