82 RA.CKETT KIVEE. 



pressing his paddle into the sand at the bottom, while the 

 boatman handled the landing net. 



" Now 1" exclaimed Smith, as the flies dropped upon the 

 water together above the cold spring. There was no lack 

 of trout, for one rose to the fly at every cast. 



" I say," said the Doctor, " how many have you in your 

 boat ?" 



" Sixteen," I replied, after counting them. 



" We've got eight, and I bar a,ny more fishing. The law 

 has reached its limit. No wanton waste of the good things 

 of God, you know." 



The rods were unjointed and laid away, and such a string 

 of trout as we had, is rarely seen outside of the Saranac 

 woods. We procured fresh grass in which to lay our 

 fish, and green boughs to cover them, and floated on down 

 the stream, entering the Rackett at nine o'clock. The 

 Rackett is a most beautiful river. To me at least it is so, 

 for it flows on its tortuous and winding way for a hundred 

 or more miles through an unbroken forest, with all the 

 old things standing in their primeval grandeur along its 

 banks. The woodman's axe has not marred the loveliness 

 of its surroundings, and no human hand has for all that 

 distance been laid upon its mane, or harnessed it to the 

 great wheel, making it a slave, compelling it to be utili- 

 tarian, to grind corn or throw the shuttle and spin. It 

 moves on towards the mighty St. Lawrence as wild, 

 and halterless, and free, as when the Great Spirit sent it 



