PARMACHENEE LAKE. 179 



loway Rivers, to a point distant about ten miles, 

 Brown's Landing. But in the absence of the 

 steamer, which is a very notional craft, coming 

 and going at its own sweet will, we were obliged 

 to again take the " Mountain Ranger," and drive a 

 distance of seventeen miles over a mountainous 

 road, partly in Maine, and partly in New Hamp- 

 shire, to the extreme end of civilization, where 

 carries and boating commence. 



Changing from our "Mountain Ranger" to a 

 buck-board, we encounter our first carry of two 

 miles, and a dismal, rough, and dreary ride it is. 

 We pass the night at Fred Flint's camp, near the 

 Aziscohos Falls, on the Magalloway. For good 

 cooking, a neat table, and a comfortable bed, com- 

 mend us to this oasis in the wilderness. Surely 

 Fred is blessed with a wife worth the having. 



For our thirty-three miles of boating, we are 

 ready at an early hour the following morning ; and 

 at six o'clock our three boats push off from the 

 landing, each propelled by a willing pair of oars. 



From our start at the falls, the entire distance 

 to the lake lies through a virgin wilderness, not a 

 clearing, not a sign of a human habitation, save 

 a solitary hunter's camp, where we landed and 

 lunched in primitive style. The trip, were it not 

 for its novelty, would be somewhat tiresome ; but 



