18 Joint Bulletin 8 



is produced in vast quantity, nor how proverbial for thrift, industry, 

 and morality the village is; for to reach Willoughby Lake, you must 

 betake yourself, after due refreshment by bed and board, an' you like, 

 to some vehicle which shall carry you through Lyndon. Emerging 

 thence into the rural districts where good farms, well cultivated, and 

 fine specimens of grazing cattle, engage your attention close at hand; 

 while Burke Mountain, 3,500 feet high, of ever-changing, but ever 

 noble outline, continually attracts your eye eastward. The first good 

 view of the mountains between which the lake lies, is obtained about 

 eight miles this side of it. On the east,, Pisgah or Annance, so named 

 in the latter instance from a chief of the St. Francis tribe of Indians, 

 its western face bare and rocky. Hor, on the west, presents a long 

 tabular outline, sloping gently to the north, and dropping suddenly 

 off to the northern and southern extremities. Ascending now a wooded 

 slope, the height of land separating the tributaries of the Connecticut 

 from those of the St. Lawrence, a scene of grandeur and of beauty 

 opens upon you; the lake, of clear deep blue, calmly sleeping between 

 its two overhanging sentinels — in the distance. Owl's Head, rising out 

 of Memphremagog like a giant, keeping also its ceaseless watch over 

 the region. 



Once upon the bosom of the lake, you begin to appreciate the 

 features of your locale. There you may glance your eye upwards, 

 from its waters on the perpendicular fronts of those two mountains, 

 the eastern towering 1,950 feet, and the western one 1,500 feet, from 

 where you are lying in your boat. Annance is the more striking object, 

 however. Its base is wooded for about 600 feet; then a sheer precipice 

 of slate rock for 800 feet, with a granite tower pushed through it, and 

 perhaps 550 feet more of woodland crowns the whole. A cave on the 

 east shore, just where the granite cloven foot of Annance steps down 

 Into the lake, bears the universally accepted if not acceptable name, 

 wherever anything strange or mysterious is found, of Devil's Den; on 

 the wet rocks in the entrance of which, some interesting lichen was 

 detected by Mr. Frost — a Collema, I presume. 



It is by the aid of a road, and while opposite this place, that you 

 must turn directly east u^ the mountain, on an angle of 40 degrees, 

 and difficult of ascent from fallen trees, undergrowth, and, worse than 

 all, branches of the white cedar. Would you enter the domains of 

 Flora, in her modern Garden of Eden? Never mind, then, but crawl 

 on for 500 or 600 feet, and you shall be more than repaid by coming 



