AD IRON D AC. 101 



low sheet of water which the guide called 

 Bloody-Moose Pond, from the tradition that 

 a moose had been slaughtered there many 

 years before. Looking out over the silent 

 and lonely scene, his eye was the first to de- 

 tect an object apparently feeding upon lily- 

 pads, which our willing fancies readily shaped 

 into a deer. As we were eagerly waiting 

 some movement to confirm this impression, 

 it lifted up its head, and lo ! a great blue 

 heron. Seeing us approach, it spread its 

 long wings and flew solemnly across to a 

 dead tree on the other side of the lake, en- 

 hancing, rather than relieving, the loneliness 

 and desolation that brooded over the scene. 



As we proceeded, it flew from tree to tree 

 in advance of us, apparently loath to be dis- 

 turbed in its ancient and solitary domain. 

 In the margin of the pond, we found the 

 pitcher-plant growing, and here and there in 

 the sand, the closed gentian lifted up its blue 

 head. 



In traversing the shores of this wild, deso- 

 late lake, I was conscious of a slight thrill 

 of expectation, as if some secret of Nature 

 might here be revealed, or some rare and 

 unheard-of game disturbed. There is ever 

 a lurking suspicion that the beginning of 



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