THE LAST STRETCH. 371 



11 Columns left alone 



Of a temple once complete." 



I must confess there was a charm about this camp 

 that quite tempted one to turn his back on civilized 

 life. I have rarely met one, even in this wonderful 

 region, so picturesque and lonely. It was quite evi- 

 dent that these men had something of an artist-eye 

 after all. Perhaps the day had something to do with 

 making it attractive, for a brighter one never blessed 

 the world. The sky never seemed so blue or the trees 

 so green before, while the air was so pure that each 

 respiration was a positive luxury. 



Looking at our watches, and finding it was but ten 

 o'clock, we concluded to eat our dinner at Mud Lake, 

 now six miles distant; so, taking a little moose-meat 

 by way of lunch, and a long draught at the delicious 

 spring, we pushed off, and soon entered Bog River 

 again, which, taking its rise in the lake our faces were 

 turned towards, passes through pond after pond and 

 long stretches of forest before it finally empties itself 

 over " Buttermilk Falls" into Great Tupper's Lake. 

 It had gradually narrowed and shallowed as we ascend- 

 ed, and now became so contracted that it was with 

 difficulty we could use our oars in many places. It 



