JoE AND CRONIE. 107 


ranging over much territory but often returning to and tarry- 
ing a short while in some loved spots which are the most like 
home to them. This ridge, and the little knoll whereon stood 
the moose, they will always remember as where they saw an 
interesting sight; a glossy, black wild moose in the early 
summer time. The birds are merrily singing as they again 
pass through the beeches and the dell, and the bluejay as 
usual is screaming, as if the sentinel guarding the grove, and 
continues his scolding until they enter the sombre shades of the 
dark green trees and step again upon the mossy bottom of the 
rocky woodland. When half way through, a large owl is seen 
sitting upon a spruce limb, but makes quickly off before they 
get too near him as there is but little sun to dazzle his eyes in 
this dark, mossy retreat. Out of the spruces and down past 
the old camp ground and they are soon at the quick waters, 
the rips and pools again, capturing the trout that are easily 
deceived and taken in the rapid water. Only a dozen or so 
are killed as the weather is warm, when these are dressed and 
cared for in the basket, when they walk up to their boat, 
which they find as they left it. Getting on board they paddle 
up the outlet to the lake and the broad water, when Joe 
proposes a voyage of discovery around the shores of the lake, 
running as near land as possible to find and interview all the 
incoming brooks, and to observe and note whatever they can 
see and find of interest on the way. To this Cronie gladly 
assents as it just meets his own wishes. They are here ina 
good time to find the small spring brooks as they are running 
full and telegraph their whereabouts with merry trickling as 
they enter the lake. 
After an hour or more they land upon a mossy point which 
rises some six or eight feet above the lake and then the level 
