140 FLY-FISHING IN MAINE LAKES. 



" Got him to take it all for a quarter." Now, that 

 was a fair illustration of Joe's shrewdness. He 

 knew that if he had proposed to send all our bag- 

 gage up by boat, I should have thought him lazy, 

 and the expense greater than it was, and unneces- 

 sary. The upshot was, that the luggage got to the 

 top of Missionary Hill, where we were to camp, 

 without his handling twenty pounds of it. 



The day was fine, and we had before us twelve 

 miles of canoeing. Our route lay through Louis 

 Lake, Long Lake, and Big Lake. Very prettily sit- 

 uated on the shore of the latter is one of the vil- 

 lages of the remnant of the Passamaquoddy tribe 

 of Indians, the residence of Joe, and many other 

 guides of note. 



I have been a good deal of a traveller in my life, 

 and have journeyed in many different conveyances, 

 both by land and water, on business or pleasure. I 

 hardly think you could mention one in use in our 

 country in which I have not travelled more or less, 

 from a canal-boat to an ocean-steamer, from a 

 buckboard to a Pullman car. Once in my life I 

 tried ballooning, but only for the matter of a couple 

 of thousand feet with a good stout cable attached 

 to the air-ship. 



I can truly say that I know no manner of loco- 

 motion more exciting and exhilarating, more restful 



