258 WILD LIFE AND THE CAMERA 



scows laden with winter provender, had left. I 

 found a suitable canoe, in which I placed my 

 belongings, and bidding a short farewell to trains 

 and their like, I started off alone for my goal — 

 ISIt. Katahdin— translated from the Indian to mean 

 the Highest Land. 



No breath of wind stirred the surface of Lake 

 Pummadumcook, and it was difficult to distinguish 

 the reflections from the real objects. The shores 

 are rocky and covered in most parts by fallen timber, 

 M^iose bleached bones shine silvery white against the 

 dark background of evergreens. How deathly quiet 

 it was ! Occasionally a loon would utter its piteous 

 cry, but that only made the stillness the more 

 intense, and the constant rhythmical dip of the 

 paddle could scarce be heard as it sent the graceful 

 canoe ghding over the polished surface of the 

 water. 



It was nearly eleven when, after some difficulty 

 in finding the way, I reached Lake Ambajeejus, or, 

 as it is also written, Ambejijis. From there Katah- 

 din presented a magnificent picture. Its full height 

 was seen to advantage as the low-lying foreground 

 gave an uninterrupted view, which was reproduced 

 in all its detail on the lake's surface. About a 

 mile and a half of paddling brought me to 

 Ambajeejus Falls, where there was a carry of nearly 

 half a mile, as the water was very low. For a 

 moderate sum, a guide, who keeps a horse for the 

 Durpose, hauled my things across the carry, and by 

 little after noon I was on the dead waters of the 

 west branch of the Penobscot river. Excepting at 

 the falls it resembles a lake more than a river, and 



