LETTER XVIII. 203 



so we all bundled out, lit fires, and cooked bacon 

 by the road-side. After wasting an hour and a 

 half in this way, we again started, our lame horse 

 (he had a stiff leg, result of a fracture in youth) 

 almost running away with us. At about four 

 we left the road, which for the last half-mile had 

 been very bad, and turned into the forest. A 

 drive of 100 yards sufficed for everyone, except 

 the driver and my wife, over the forest road, and 

 as the driver candidly remarked, it did not seem 

 likely that any of their bones would be left in the 

 proper places by nightfall. First on one wheel, 

 then on another, the unfortunate trap careered 

 through snow and ruts, over logs and rocks, 

 sometimes leaping a little brook, at others stop- 

 ping for a fallen tree to be cut out of the way. 



Except for the noise we made and the chatter- 

 ing of some squirrels alarmed at our arrival, 

 intense silence reigned in the woods. The track 

 we were following was one which had been suffi- 

 ciently cleared for the lumberers in times past to 

 haul the logs along to the river ; but it had 

 never been meant for a trap with springs. At 

 last one side of the trap tilted up, there was a 

 sharp metallic snap, and a spring had gone. To 

 my surprise, though the driver grumbled a good 

 deal, he mended the spring with a small log and 

 some straps and proceeded. I quite expected to 



