AN AMATEUR IN THE NORTH WOODS. 171 



bushes in the direction indicated, just in time to hear the re- 

 treating footsteps of tlie animal dying away among the under- 

 brush. Pursuit was hopeless ; but the excitement of the affair 

 revived my drooping energy, and for a short time I trod the 

 lonesome path more lightly. 



But this factitious strength was only temporary, and I was 

 soon more tired than ever. So utterly demoralized did I be- 

 come, that the sight of a noble buck standing directly in my 

 path, but a few paces distant, and gazing at me with his large, 

 lustrous, startled eyes, brimful of wonder, failed to arouse 

 me in the least ; and I allowed him to walk leisurely away, 

 unmolested. The only desire of which I was conscious was, 

 an irrepressible longing for shelter and repose, neither of 

 which were near at hand. 



It was now nearly dai*k, and we had yet several miles to 

 travel. Newhouse had loitered a mile or two behind, and I 

 was quite alone. I had long desired to be in the wilderness 

 at night, far from any human being, for the purpose of testing 

 my strength of nerve. I had been curious to know what 

 would be the effect upon me of such a situation, and whether 

 my ordinary equanimity would be in any way disturbed by it. 

 Here was an admirable opportunity to have this question 

 definitively settled ; but, unfortunately, I was too tired to in- 

 dulge in self-examination or thought of any kind, and so 

 allowed the occasion to pass unimproved. About this time, a 

 heavy thunder-cloud, which for some time had been sending 

 forth ominous mutterings, began to discharge its damp con- 

 tents upon my devoted head. But I was so insufferably weary 

 as to be entirely oblivious of rain, or thought of personal dan- 

 ger. The not unfrequent intimation of the close proximity of 

 of some wild beast caused me no uneasiness, and I could have 

 faced all the animals in the North Woods en masse with the 

 most perfect imperturbability. I thought of heaven as a place 

 of rest, and wished I was safely there. I thought of the rude 

 log-hut I had left that morning, and my bed of hemlock 

 boughs, with sensations similar to those with which Adam 

 must have contemplated his lost Paradise. The forty pounds 

 of salmon trout on my shoulders weighed down more heavily 



