272 HILLS AND LAKES. 



stretched his broad wings, and soared majestically 

 away. Nearest the foot of the lake, and just outside 

 the bay, are two beautiful islands, called The Sisters. 

 They contain perhaps an acre each, and are covered 

 with a thick growth of evergreens. 



As we rowed along up the lake, we trailed a long 

 line behind us, trolling for the lake-trout. At length 

 the bait was seized by what, to me, was a monster fish, 

 and I reeled him in on a line of a hundred and fifty 

 feet. He struggled and floundered, and leaped from 

 the water, and dove again for the bottom, went 

 skiving away to the right and left, in his hard battle 

 for life, but the hook was in his jaw, and after a fight 

 of nearly half an hour, he lay exhausted in the boat, a 

 lake-trout of five pounds in weight. This is not the 

 season for trolling, and we caught no more in this 

 way. In the middle of the lake rises a barren rock, 

 standing all alone, treeless and shrubless, lifting its 

 bare head some twenty or thirty feet from the water. 



Off to the right, and at a quarter of a mile distant, 

 is Umbrella Island, which takes its name from a singu- 

 lar tree standing near its centre. This island is cov- 

 ered with low green trees, but from the midst of which 

 shoots up a tall pine, its trunk straight and bare, some 



