TBOUT-FISHING. 161 



miles north, then incline a little to the westward, and after 

 about half-an-hour's walking through a swamp you will strike 

 a small brook, which follow up and you will certain sure 

 make the pond."* To those who have not wandered 

 through an American forest such instructions will be 

 perceived to be far from definite ; to the thorough woods- 

 man, however, they would be sufficient. Before we left the 

 township road where we were to branch off, there stood a 

 shanty, at which we halted to put up the horse and 

 buggy in which we had thus far travelled. From the head 

 of the establishment we made inquiries, who, calling to his 

 son who was within, gave the following directions 

 " Bub,t take the gents and show them the pond." Now 

 "Bub" was a most communicative youngster, about four- 

 teen years of age, and, scenting a dollar in the distance, 

 hopefully undertook the job. A cowpath we, the trio 

 followed for more than a mile, then we continued on what 

 is familiarly designated a blaze road id est, a path marked 

 out by a tree at every hundred yards, more or less, having 

 a piece scooped out of its bark. The walking was as bad 

 as possible, for constantly we were delayed by giants of the 

 forest who had been prostrated by the gales of preceding 

 winters. At length, tired and frightfully worried by 

 mosquitoes, we reached a brook eight or ten feet in breadth, 

 but deep and sullen as a canal; down this we pursued an 

 erratic course till between two lofty bluffs we came upon a 

 beautiful sheet of water of an area of about forty acres. 



* Small lakes in Maine are always called ponds. 



f A Yankee father's familiar way of addressing his son ; daughters after 

 the same manner are called "ciss." 



11 



