50 DAYS IN THE OPEN 



A little of this was quite enough, and the party 

 made the last part of the trip on foot, tripping and 

 stumbling through the darkness until, after what 

 seemed an interminable time, the lights of the 

 cabin flashed out through the trees. We were in 

 no condition to be curious as to our surroundings 

 that night and, after a supper of fried trout, were 

 glad to tumble into bed. The remark of one of the 

 boys of the family that the " old man " was away, 

 did not seem to possess much significance until 

 later on when we learned that he was serving time 

 in the county jail for shooting deer out of season. 



In the sunshine of the next morning we saw our 

 surroundings clearly for the first time. A little 

 clearing of a couple of acres on the lake shore, a 

 rough log cabin with a rougher barn, a beautiful 

 little lake guarded on the east and south by high 

 hills timbered to their summits, what more could 

 the seeker after rest and recreation ask? Otter 

 Lake is too small to be entitled to a place on the 

 average map of New York, but it lies north of the 

 Mohawk River and east of the railway running 

 from Utica to Clayton. It is not far enough east 

 to be considered as in the Adirondacks, and the sec- 

 tion is familiarly known as the " North Woods." 

 An alternative term is "John Brown's Tract," as 

 the hero of Ossawatomie at one time owned hun- 

 dreds, if not thousands of acres of land in this lo- 

 cality, and cherished ambitious plans for a colony. 



The party was made up of the Doctor, the Hard- 



