FOLLANSBEE JUNIOR. 153 



gishly in the sunshine between banks loaded with the 

 swamp alders. The water was low, and we could not 

 shoot all the rapids, so that we had now and then to jump 

 out in the stream and lower the boat among the rocks. 

 A half-dozen times we lifted her over fallen trees. In one 

 place we slipped through under a fallen pine by lying flat 

 in the bottom, and had not an inch to spare, as the bark 

 of the old tree scraped our backs. There are some points 

 of rare beauty along the river, and all the way the scenery 

 is wild and fine. 



But the outlet of Follansbee Junior was fearful for boat 

 work. At best it is but a brook, winding in a thousand 

 short curves and angles for a mile and a half from the 

 pond to the St. Regis. We found it unusually low, and 

 some one had broken up the beaver dams, of which there 

 were three or four on it, and which served to set back the 

 water somewhat and make it deeper. We had as hot and 

 heavy an afternoon's work as could be desired. Now we 

 pushed with our paddles, now we dragged on the bushes, 

 now we stuck fast in sharp angles, and now we found the 

 water almost wholly invisible ahead of us among the roots 

 of the alders. I became so thoroughly disgusted with the 

 work that, having the bow paddle, I jumped over, and, 

 seizing her by the nose, plunged ahead and dragged her 

 for a quarter of a mile. But this was none too easy, for 

 the treacherous little brook abounds in holes into which I 

 went deep, and in quicksand bottom where my feet sank 

 and stuck hard. But perseverance conquers, and we came 

 out of the woods at last on the calm surface of the beauti- 

 ful little lake, and paddled up to the old shanty where 

 Frank was waiting for us. Many who read this, and more 

 who will not read it, remember that old shanty on Follans- 

 bee Junior which has been for many a year the sports- 



