DIES PISCATORI.E. 519 



strike further north. We finally concluded to adopt the latter course. We 

 procured a guide, got a wagon, left most of our luggage, took a change of 

 raiment, all the gin, and started. We rode about six miles to a house, 

 which is the last one upon the extremities of civilization. From this place 

 we were to walk over a " carry," stated to be about a mile and a half long, 

 but which was nearer six. So we packed our traps on our backs. Our 



guide carried all the camp equipage. N had a fishing-basket with 



the gin in it ; the carpet-bag with our vestments, an axe, a rifle, a 

 skillet, a bag of salt, a chunk of pork — they have pork in this country — 

 some wet matches, and an over-coat : the rest of us followed with such 

 articles as remained, piled on in a promiscuous manner. 



This was my first experience in " carrying," the generic word for this 

 sort of business, and 1 must be allowed to state that, as a general proposi- 

 tion, I do not admire this species of locomotion either in point of speed or 

 comfort. The day was hot, and such a road ! eye hath not seen, ear hath 

 not heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of any man to conceive. 

 It was up hill and down ; through bogs and swamps ; over fallen trees ; 

 encountering impenetrable thickets. A wagon-path had formerly been cut 

 through the woods, as though some one had entertained the idea that such 

 a route might be travelled by beasts of burden, in connection with some 

 kind of vehicle ; if such a notion was ever conceived, we can only be 

 amused at the simplicity of the individual. The path was infested with 

 immense rocks that were smooth and slippery with moss, and when you 

 put your foot on them, down you went, and when you were down, the mos 

 quitoes had you ; for though when in motion their attacks were suspended, 

 yet, if you stopped, they came at you with renewed vehemence. 



Slipping and falling, when you are fresh and light, is not of much con- 

 sequence ; but when you are tired out, and have an hundred pounds on 

 your back, it's a fearful joke. I had trudged on till, through fatigue, I had 

 become just desperate, and would not have made any exertion to save life 

 itself. I stepped on the point of a stone, it was treacherous, and myself, 

 pack and all, reposed softly in the morass. The mud was knee-deep ; 

 exhausted nature had spent all her energies ; I could not move hand nor 

 foot ; the mosquitoes assailed me in legions ; through an opening in the 

 trees the sun poured down his relentless rays ; I thought my hour had 

 come, and, memory unconsciously reverting to the days of childhood, I 



was about beginning, " Now I lay me down," — when I heard N on 



ahead exclaiming, at the top of his voice, in all the consciousness of im- 

 mense and impregnable strength — 



