A YEAR IN THE FIELDS 



hoping to cross the range that intervened 

 between us and the lake by sunset. We 

 engaged a good-natured but rather indo- 

 lent young man, who happened to be stop- 

 ping at the house, and who had carried a 

 knapsack in the Union armies, to pilot us 

 a couple of miles into the woods so as to 

 guard against any mistakes at the outset. 

 It seemed the easiest thing in the world to 

 find the lake. The lay of the land was so 

 simple, according to accounts, that I felt 

 sure I could go to it in the dark. " Go up 

 this little brook to its source on the side of 

 the mountain," they said. " The valley 

 that contains the lake heads directly on the 

 other side." What could be easier ! But 

 on a little further inquiry, they said we 

 should "bear well to the left" when we 

 reached the top of the mountain. This 

 opened the doors again : " bearing well to 

 the left" was an uncertain performance in 

 strange woods. We might bear so well to 

 the left that it would bring us ill. But why 

 bear to the left at all, if the lake was di- 

 rectly opposite ? Well, not quite opposite ; 

 a little to the left. There were two or three 

 other valleys that headed in near there. 

 We could easily find the right one. But to 

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