DIES PISCATORI^l. 555 



is not so ardent a sportsman that it interferes with his hunting 

 and fishing. Still, I confess, I was somewhat shocked at 

 times to find the Adirondacks so hackneyed ; the " carries" 

 from one lake to another, as you go from Martin's to the Ra- 

 quette are well-worn roads, and at two of them there are 

 wagons to convey canoes and baggage across. The little out- 

 let of Stony Creek Pond which flows into the Raquette, and 

 the Raquette itself, are so much travelled in the month of 

 August as to suggest the idea of "the raging canawl." I 

 recollect on one occasion, after Walter and I had been fore- 

 stalled at several good fly-casts by some rough bait-fishers 

 bound for the Raquette, that we came to the mouth of Am- 

 phusand Brook, and thought we would have a good, quiet, 

 lonely time. Our guides put our boats within easy cast of the 

 best places, the Trout were dimpling the water all around, 

 and we had made a few successful casts, " when faint from 

 further distance borne, was heard the clang" of something 

 like a canal tin horn, and looking up towards the head of 

 Stony Creek Pond, a boat rounded the point, a flag flying at 

 the bow, and two red-shirted "Bowery-boy" looking fellows 

 in the middle of it, approached us flourishing an empty 

 bottle, and singing Old Dan Tucker. " Oh solitude, where are 

 thy charms ?" exclaimed Walter mournfully, winding up his 

 line, while I sat down as Major Jack Dade of Virginia says, 

 " in the most pi-ignant grief." We gave up fishing and went 

 back to Stephen Martin's, where we had engaged lodgings for 

 the night. 



JOE. I have heard that hunting is as great an inducement 

 to go to the Adirondacks as fishing. 



NES. It is with most persons ; a friend, who encamped for 

 nearly a month on Wolf Pond, beyond the Raquette, last 

 September, had a fresh deer hanging before his tent-door 

 every day. If a person has a guide who is a good hunter, 



