232 CRANBERRY LAKE. THE OSWEGATCHIE. 



"No, I've been up Grass River before, and this isn't it 

 I'm for turning back and trying another course." 



The Sheriff has a host of good traits, and persistence in 

 his opinions is one of them; but \ve lost a good hour of 

 day light in fruitless search of another channel, to gratify 

 him. and at length pushed doubtfully up the narrow stream 

 we had at first entered. Familial 1 landmarks soon ap- 

 peared, and then we knew that although well in the woods 

 we \\cre by no means lost. 



" IJoys. I own up!" at length said the SlierilV, as the 

 truth dawned on his mind. " I'm a culprit of the first 

 water. This is (Irass River, and no mistake! 1 don't, 

 believe 1 know much about the woods after all. If any 

 body insists on ducking me for that extra hour of hard 

 work. I'm ready, I shan't make am resistance." 



The stream was now within its original banks, twisting 

 about as if in pain, and nearly crossing itself in its aimless 

 sauntering down the broad valley. The huge, bare front 

 of " IJurnt Rock" a welcome land-mark frowned down 

 upon us as we crept by its foot ; and at M. veil o'clock \\ c 

 reached an old bark shanty, or open cam]), which the 

 Shei-in" recogni/ed as the one once occupied by him for a 

 noonday rest. Here We stopped for the night, " as tired as 

 tired could be." We had tried the lishing in the river 

 below at a few points, after reaching clear water, but with- 

 out success; and our supper, eaten with a keenness of ap 

 petite that made it royal, consisted of only cotl'ce. crackers, 

 cheese and onions. \\ e were camping on (}ra<s River, but 

 were 



