182. BOONEVILLE TO SARATOGA. 



John carried a pack-basket filled with provisions, his boat, 

 oars and axe a good load for an o\. The lad carried the 

 "baiter-pail" (with its germinal possibilities of unlimited 



pan-eakes ) and a goodly assortment ol' small articles; while 

 1 st niggled along under a park made up of a bundle con- 

 taining stove, tent, blankets and the navy -hair full of cloth 

 ing etc., etc.. and rille, rods, small bag, and pail containing 

 our cooking utensils and table furniture. in all nearly one 

 hundred pounds. We thus carried everything at one trip, 

 but it was too much torus, and we \\civ wiser afterwards. 

 I had never so fully reali/ed with what force the heart can 

 pump blood up through the arteries in the neck and tem- 

 ples. 1 have i;-reat respect for the power of the heart, in 

 a literal sense. And I know why a locomotive pull's M> 

 fiercely at the head of a long freight train on an upgrade. 

 It is on a carry with a full load. 



Sixth Lake is small, also, and the pass-ige from it to 

 Seventh is difficult, but no carry is nceosary. A^ we 

 emergc-d from the narrow, crooked stream, the beautiful 

 Seventh, bathed in the rays of the descending sun. 11 reeled 

 our glad vision, and we fell rewarded for all the toil of 

 nearly four hours the sight had cost us. Without stop- 

 ping to land or select our camping-ground, we rigged our 

 rods, and began seeking our supper. Sentiment and sleep 

 were to come afterwards. The emergent necessity was 

 something to eat. A promising spring-hole near the outlet 

 gave us nothing: hut, at the mouth of a stream putting in 

 from the south shore, nearly opposite the foot of Big Island. 

 in an hour's time we captured not only our supper, but an 



