154 THE BEAVER RIVER WATERS. 



yearning but with dread and impatience. A single day 

 of storm and drizzle is wretched enough, but the succeed- 

 ing days are doubly delightful for the enforced inactivity 

 and discomfort. 



Luckily we had no rainy days, although now and then a 

 dashing shower, after the genuine Adirondack fashion, re- 

 minded us that nature held in her urn all sorts of gifts. 



But every camping experience has its final day. The 

 baggage is repacked, the tent pins pulled, the rods un- 

 jointed, the last things picked up, and all stowed away 

 in the marvelous boats of those forest lakes and >t reams. 

 and faces are turned home- ward. Our time was up one 

 day in June. The Judge was to hold Court somewhere 

 on a certain day We broke rump early in the morning and 

 set out for home. In passing through Albany Lake we 

 encountered a terrific thunderstorm with high wind. Our 

 frail boats were tossed and driven and rocked in a most un- 

 comfortable way for fifteen minutes, and then the wind 

 lulled, the storm passed away, and the sun shone out with 

 an innocent surprise as if to ask what the elements had 

 been doing while he stepped behind a cloud for a few min- 

 utes to make his before-dinner toilet. 



My guide, in a little spurt of speed, racing with another 

 boat in Albany Lake, broke an oar, we went ashore at 

 the tirst opportunity, changed seats, and he paddled the 

 thirty miles to Wardwell's. That took a good deal of tin- 

 talk out of him, and I enjoyed his society more than I had 

 done at any time before. We took dinner at Little Rapids, 

 where the Manager on the upward trip spent his eventful 



