116 A TASTE OF MAINE BIRCH. 



ing influence ; had indeed shed upon his soil of life a 

 rich deep leaf mould that was delightful, and that 

 nursed, half concealed, the tenderest and wildest 

 growths. There was grit enough back of and be- 

 neath it all, but he presented none of the rough and 

 repelling traits of character of the conventional back- 

 woodsman. In the spring he was a driver of logs on 

 the Kennebec, usually having charge of a large gang 

 of men ; in the winter he was a solitary trapper and 

 hunter in the forests. 



Our first glimpse of Maine waters was Pleasant 

 Pond, which we found by following a white, rapid, 

 musical stream from the Kennebec three miles back 

 into the mountains. Maine waters are for the most 

 part dark-complexioned, Indian-colored streams, but 

 Pleasant Pond is a pale-face among them both in 

 name and nature. It is the only strictly silver lake 

 I ever saw. Its waters seem almost artificially white 

 and brilliant, though of remarkable transparency. I 

 think I detected minute shining motes held in suspen- 

 sion in it. As for the trout they are veritable bars 

 of silver until you have cut their flesh, when they are 

 the reddest of gold. They have no crimson or other 

 spots, and the straight lateral line is but a faint pen- 

 cil mark. They appeared to be a species of lake 

 trout peculiar to these waters, uniformly from ten to 

 twelve inches in length. And these beautiful fish, at 

 the time of our visit (last of August) at least, were 

 to be taken only in deep water upon a hook baited 

 with salt pork. And then you needed a letter of in- 



