Still-Paddling 63 
which, alas, none ever reach, that land of 
Morning—beyond, and ever beyond! 
At Saranac they will come to that old 
world of slavish customs and of unnecessary 
baggage they left behind them when they 
embarked on the blue waters of Raquette 
Lake, and one and all will slip into the ruts 
again as if they had had no glimpse of freedom. 
To some, the accustomed slavery will seem 
more irksome for this temporary escape. 
Others will find the day’s work lightened by 
the memory of a canoe and the soft swish of a 
paddle in the silent dawn. 
If a canoe will hold no unnecessary baggage, 
neither will it hold all of one’s every-day 
thoughts. Some mental adjustment must be 
made in order to balance this slender craft, 
which is a piece of the wilderness and was 
not made to convey superfluities or artificiali- 
ties. An ill-balanced mind is apt to up- 
set it. An overburdened mind may sink 
it. ’T is the boat of the free and only a free 
mind and a free arm can paddle it to advan- 
tage so that it shall cleave the still water with 
the swiftness and balance of a fish. 
While these voyagers in the wilderness 
pass and disappear in the mists, I am ex- 
ploring nearer home. There are delightful 
