ON -THE LAKE. 31 



us? Surely yonder sentinel towering up at the 

 head of the lake is not one of them, for that the 

 foot of man has never trod, nor yet those twin sis- 

 ters on our left. Where is the " debris" the slabs 

 and sawdust that denote the lumberman's camp ? 

 Surely not in the clear sparkling streams that pour 

 their waters into this grand reservoir of nature. 

 Fie, Mr. Murray ! you didn't know what you were 

 writing about ; and, faith, I hope you never will. 



We must leave preachers and preaching, for 

 here we are at the landing. That building at the 

 foot of the lake, which has such a civilized look 

 about it, is Joe Whitney's camp ; and a fine one it 

 is too, and beautifully situated, as you can see. Call 

 there some time in passing : if Joseph is at home, 

 you will find the latch-string on the outside, and a 

 sportsman's welcome ; if not at home, brother Cole 

 will do the honors, and accept from you any news- 

 papers that you have brought along. 



But come, pick up some light baggage, and let 

 us find our camp ; for it is getting late, and Joe may 

 be cross when he sees a woman coming. Joe is 

 our cook, u. French Canadian, of seventy summers 

 and nearly as many winters, and who has been 

 here for about twenty-five years : we will tell you 

 some of his eccentricities in our next chapter. 

 But no, Joe is not cross, for there is not a fisher- 

 man in camp, and he is getting lonesome. 



