236 Deer- Hunting on the Au . Sable. 



favorable auspices. There was some novelty for one, to be sure, in 

 the great wastes of scrub-oak, the groups of stout Norway pines, the 

 white birch, the maples, the spruce-pines, and the beeches, glistening 

 in the impenetrable jungles of tangled undergrowth, and in the iteration 

 and reiteration of landscapes with no landmark or peculiarity whereby 

 one might distinguish one from the other. All this was in one sense 

 a novelty, inasmuch as one might never have seen anything like it 

 before; but the enjoyment of it, were it really susceptible of being 

 enjoyed, was marred by the steadiness with which the cold rain beat 

 in our faces ; extinguishing cigars and making pipes a doubtful bless- 

 ing; drenching everything exposed to it, and imparting that peculiar 

 chill to which mind and body are alike liable under such conditions. 

 One of our party, a veritable Mark Tapley, who was sure to "come 

 out strong " under the most discouraging conditions, whistled fugi- 

 tive airs in a resolute way ; but they got damp and degenerated into 

 funereal measures, suggesting that possibly the Dead March in 

 "Saul" was originally conceived in a spirit of inferior vivacity or 

 sprightly insincerity, and becoming wet had been recognized as a 

 thing of merit, and had therefore been permanently saturated for use 

 on occasions of public grief. Another dispiriting element was the 

 road, of which a large part was what is known as "corduroy," from 

 some obscure resemblance, which does not exist, between its struct- 

 ure and a certain well-known fabric affected by" horsey" gentlemen. 

 The jolting we got over this was painful to a degree which it is dis- 

 agreeable to recall. It jarred every bone in one's body, and embit- 

 tered the whole aspect of life. It alternated with a series of 

 diabolical mud-holes, into which we dived, and rocked, and swayed, 

 and splashed interminably. Bunyan's Slough of Despond is all very 

 well in its way, but the possibilities of figurative description of that 

 kind are as a closed book to one who has never ridden on a corduroy 

 road in a wagon with inferior springs. At last, we emerged on a 

 higher plateau of sand, and left the marsh behind us for good. The 

 rain had become a milder and tolerable evil, compared to the swamp 

 road. All was sand, but the wet made it " pack " beneath the 

 horses' feet and the wheels, and we went over it at an excellent pace. 

 Around us was the Michigan forest in all its wonderful variety of 

 growth and richness, and in all its drear monotony and desolation. 

 Grass there was in tufts, and thin and poor. Thick gray lichens and 



