"no thoroughfare."— "i'ye been here!" 231 



push and pnll our way by main force, guided l)y tlie slight 

 signs of l)rol<;en or rubbed limbs where other boats had 

 sometime preceded us, Init as often going hap-hazard, on 

 a "bee line," in the general direction up-stream, the per- 

 versely crooked channel utterly lost. 



Words fail to adequatel}' describe our journeying through 

 this wilderness of difficulties. For nearly four hours we 

 toiled and struggled up the tortuous and uncertain way, 

 hunting for the main channel and often finding our.^elves 

 in a "pocket," — a case of "No Thoroughfare," with no 

 friendly sign-board, — and then backing out or pushing with 

 all our force through acres of dead alders. At length we 

 entered a little stream comparatively free from obstacles. 

 The Sheriff, "who had been there." declared that we had 

 missed the river and were entering a branch from ]\Iassa- 

 wepie Lake. The sagacious guides argued from the "lay 

 of the land " and the character of the woods that this must 

 be the rivei-, w liilc wliat appeared to the Sheriff to be the 

 river-bed— the entire valley being flooded— was only a l)ay. 



" I tell you again, boys," said the Slieriff, emphatically, 

 " Fve l)een here before, and tliis isn't the river. We shall 

 bring up in Massawepie, sure, if we keep on." 



•'Well, Sheriff." I ventured to say. '.' 1 have never been 

 here. I dout know Grass River from the Euphrates, by 

 occvdar demonstration, — and Fm not likely to. if we don't 

 get out of this everla-sting swamp before dark; but 1 can 

 tell you one thing,— these guides generally know pretty 

 well what they are talking about, when it's a trail or an inlet 

 or an outlet or channel that they are hunting for. Better 

 ' U'ive 'em their head,' Sheriff." 



