A Close Call 



Escaped with the skin of my teeth. 



Jos 19 : 20. 



OF all the things in this world which are not pic- 

 turesque, the breaking of camp after a long season 

 spent in the woods of Maine comes close to being at 

 the top. We had spent many long and exciting days 

 in the wilds of Maine, and camp was broken at six in 

 the morning. The camp had been on a high ledge, 

 overlooking a circular sheet of water known as Moose 

 Pond. The latter is flanked by bogs on two sides, a 

 cove at one side and a stream that runs into it from a 

 small lake above. It was a dismal day, and the three 

 guides looked glum when we started to make our way 

 out of the pond and through the cove into the lake be- 

 yond. The wind blew directly in our faces, and the 

 guides seemed to be afraid of everything. First they 

 were afraid they could not get the canoes around the 

 point, then afraid they would have to camp on the 

 shore of the cove in fact, there was nothing they 

 were not afraid of. Finally, my son and I told them 

 that if they would only put us on the other side of the 

 cove we would lighten the canoes by walking the two 

 miles across the point and through the woods. 



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