The Trail 



and enjoyment. A hundred lakes by which I have 

 tented are greater or more splendid ; but the first 

 charm of any wilderness scene is its solitude, and 

 on these greater lakes the impression of solitude 

 may be broken by the flash of a paddle-blade in 

 the sun, or the chuck of an ax under the twilight, 

 or the gleam of a camp-fire through the darkness. 

 But here on my pond you may know how Adam 

 felt when he looked abroad: no raft has ever 

 ruffled its surface; no ax-stroke or moan of smitten,, 

 tree has ever disturbed its quiet ; no camp-fire has 

 ever gleamed on its waters. Its solitude is still 

 that of the first day; and it has no name, save 

 for the Indian word that came unbidden at the 

 moment of finding it, like another Sleeping Beauty, 

 in the woods. 



Do you ask how I came to find my pond? Not 

 by searching, but rather by the odd chance of being 

 myself lost. I had gone astray one afternoon, 

 and was pushing through some black growth when 

 an alarm rose near at hand. A deer whistled 

 loudly, crying "Heu! heu! heu!" as he jumped 

 away, and on the heels of his cry came a quacking 

 of flushed ducks. 



Till that moment I thought I knew where I 



was; but the quacking brought doubt, and then 



bewilderment. If a duck tells you anything in the 



woods, he tells you of water, plenty of it ; but the 



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