76 LETTERS FROM THE BACKWOODS. 



ther side. But the moon now began to show her silver 

 disk over the fir-trees, and our last remaining chance 

 was to find a deer in the bay before the silver orb 

 should climb the lofty pines that folded it in. But in 

 this, too, we were disappointed; and the unclouded 

 light now flooding lake and forest, we turned wearily 

 towards our camp-fire, that was blazing cheerfully 

 amid the trees on the farther shore. Just then a 

 merry laugh came floating over the water from our 

 companions there, breaking the silence which had en- 

 chained us, and for the first time we spoke. My limbs 

 were almost paralyzed, from having been kept so long 

 in one position, and I was sick and weary. Still I 

 would not have missed that mysterious boat ride, and 

 the strange sensations it had awakened, to have been 

 saved from thrice the inconvenience it had occasioned 

 me. It was one of those new things in this stereo- 

 typed life of ours, imparting new experiences, and 

 giving one, as it were, a deeper insight into his own 

 soul. 



At length we stretched ourselves upon the boughs, 

 and were soon fast asleep. I awoke, however, about 

 midnight, and found our fire reduced to a few embers, 

 while the rain was coming down as if that were its 

 sole business for the night. It is gloomy in the woods 

 without a fire; and I never seem so companionless as 

 when in the still midnight I awake and find nothing 

 but the dark forest about me, cheered by no light. A 

 bright crackling flame seems like a living thing, keep- 

 ing awake on purpose to watch over you. 



Leaving my companions, whose heavy breathings 



