162 THe Aroostook Woops. 

are now low down; we are now no more animated than the 
cowboy we see walking behind his charge. 
But after passing under the bridge over which runs the old 
military road, and then by the pretty little village nestling in 
the valley by the pleasant river, then a few scattering farms, 
and below we see again the welcome and enlivening forest, 
for which to reach and find a cosy camping chance beside 
one of our favorite babbling brooks, we actually exert our- 
selves for the first time since our ducking in the falls. 
The next day, far below by a clear brook on the long, still 
water, we came suddenly in view of the white tent of an 
Indian trapper. But now as we are coming to where, on this 
excursion, we met with a quiet, happy camping scene, that 
fitted in so well with the musquashing, may we be forgiven 
for taking the reader this roundabout road, hurrying him over 
a part of this canoeing trip, when our plea is, we hoped to 
interest him, and if we could give him a part of the jolly fun 
and a good portion of the deep, quiet happiness, that at times 
we so much enjoyed and appreciated, we should be more 
than pleased. 
We came upon the camp along in the afternoon upon the 
west bank, beside the river. He, or rather they, as he had 
his two daughters with him, were out on their usual six or 
eight weeks hunting and musquashing trip. He seemed a 
fine old Indian. He had visited his traps in the morning and 
was sitting upon the sunny bank skinning his catch. In a 
tree before him he had driven a hook, such as tanners use, to 
hook up the skins from the vat. He would cut through the 
thickest part of one’s tail and hang it upon the hook; then 
sticking a heavy brad awl through its nose, pull it down 
taut and fasten to the tree with the awl, thus keeping it in a 
