THE ANDROSCOGGIN RIVER. 335 
you will be able to proceed, without leaving the steamboat, 
as far as the commencement of the portage; but, should it 
be otherwise, your baggage and self will require to be trans- 
ferred to boats, to be propelled up stream by pole and pad- 
dle in the skillful hands of some of the proficient back- 
woodsmen. 
The trip up the river is worthy all the distance you have 
wandered. The view is ever changing and ever beautiful. 
Now you float over some still, dark pool; next, with labo- 
rious and slow progress, ascend some seething rapid; one 
time the centre of the stream only is navigable, the next 
moment the brush and branches on the margin grate against 
your craft’s gunwale. A solemn stillness reigns around, 
only broken by the murmuring of the water, the occasional 
shrill cry of the fish-hawk, or the laborious, incessant ham- 
mering of the industrious woodpecker. Again, as you ad- 
vance, many a wild duck or merganser, on rapid wing, will 
whistle past, or flutter over the rippling stream, followed 
by a numerous, inoffensive brood, perhaps but the other 
day divested of the egg-shell, yet thus early a proficient 
in aquatic travel—all adding peace to the scene, and suit- 
able figures for foreground to the picture. 
From this point, where you leave the boats, a portage of 
four miles occurs, which has to be traversed on foot; how- 
ever, the walking is not bad, although too rough for driy- 
ing. The path is well defined and erratic, one moment 
pointing direct for the impenetrable woods, the next fol- 
lowing the margin of the river. Some persons have chris- 
tened this portion of the Androscoggin “Mad River,” a 
name far from inappropriate, as for more than a mile it is 
one succession of grand rapids and miniature cascades, boil- 
ing, surging, and rushing for the placid bosom of Lake Um- 
‘pagog. Good fly-fishing can be obtained at low water all 
along this portion close to the margin, where the water 
