166 SPOKT IN NORTH AMERICA. 



" fire-water," give themselves up unreservedly to its 

 slavery, and will sacrifice anything for the gratifica- 

 tion of their favourite vice. 



On either side of the road we traversed, the 

 ground had been cleared away for a certain dis- 

 tance, but beyond that was the uncultivated forest 

 and complete solitude. We crossed a number of 

 half-frozen brooks, and the snow fell thickly in 

 flakes. Occasionally we met sleighs laden with 

 grain or wood, and as the road was very narrow it 

 was not so easy to efi"ect a clear passage. Once 

 we came into collision with a farmer of the neigh- 

 bourhood, and as our vehicle happened to be the 

 heavier of the two, over he went into a ditch con- 

 taining five feet of snow. Wrapped in our fur 

 cloaks, and secure in the weight of our car, our 

 Homeric laugh contrasted blithely with the oaths 

 of our Canadian Phaeton. 



About nightfall, we reached the borders of a 

 small lake, about a dozen miles from the place 

 where we expected to meet the moose. The log-hut, 

 which plumed itself upon the magnificent title of 

 " King George's Hotel," was a miserable bothy. It 

 was a barn divided into two compartments, one of 

 which was called the Bar Room (where the indispen- 

 sable American " drinks " were sold), and the other 

 was the landlord's bedroom. He, as I soon found out, 

 (and it was some consolation in that desolate place,) 

 was a well-educated Englishman, who had known 



