90 



RECREATION. 



Darling was then able to steer. Be- 

 yond shipping a great deal of water, 

 we had no trouble with the rapids, but 

 our progress was slow, and it was dark 

 before the 20 miles were passed. The 

 rain fell in sheets. Missing the mouth 

 of the little creek, which was overhung 

 by bushes, we turned back and, pad- 

 dling slowly, at last discovered it. The 

 mile run up the creek gave no trouble, 

 but before us was a swampy logan 

 covering several hundred acres. Some- 

 where in this was the corduroy wagon 

 road, but how to find it was a problem. 

 Again and again we tried without suc- 

 cess. At last I started to wade the 

 shallow water around the margin, 

 Darling keeping the boat as near me 

 as possible. The recollection of that 

 wade is still clear in my mind. The 

 intense darkness of the night, the 

 steady pour of the rain and the fre- 

 quent falls over submerged logs com- 

 bined to make me wretched. 



Falling over in water perhaps 3 feet 

 deep, my gun was lost, and only found 

 after long groping in the mud. At 

 last I bruised my leg severely on 

 something which, by feeling, I found 

 to be one of the logs composing the 

 road. Following it to the end, I called 

 Darling, fixed him as well as possible 

 under the tent cloth and started 

 through the woods to the French- 

 man's house on Moosehead lake. Fall- 

 ing over stones and logs, floundering 

 in holes, I was nearly 3 hours mak- 

 ing the 4 miles, but at last reached the 

 clearing. A signal shot brought a 

 light to the window and a noisy wel- 

 come from countless dogs. Awaken- 

 ing his 2 sons, the Frenchman started 

 with a sled to bring back Darling and 

 the canoe. When they had gone I 

 stumbled into the house, fell on a 

 couch in my wet clothing, and 



dropped to sleep, completely ex- 

 hausted. 



Darling arrived at daylight. By 

 steady paddling we could reach the 

 Mount Kineo house in time to catch 

 the morning boat, so eating an early 

 breakfast we started at once, for I felt 

 anxious to get Darling to some place 

 where his foot could have proper atten- 

 tion. A dense fog was on the lake, but 

 Darling kept his course — by instinct, 

 I imagine. On a projecting point 

 we saw 2 deer. I did not care to shoot 

 them, as we could not save the meat, 

 so we tried to see how close we could 

 get without startling them. Darling 

 was at home in that kind of work, and 

 we moved through the water without 

 a ripple until we reached the shallow 

 ma/gin not to exceed 30 feet from the 

 deer. I have never been so near to 

 live game. At last they saw us. They 

 jumped straight up the bank. The doe 

 missed her footing, and falling back- 

 ward floundered in the sand a mo- 

 ment, not over 15 feet from the canoe ; 

 then ran off toward the beach. The 

 buck cleared the bank and was out 

 of sight in a second. 



Hearing the whistle of the steam- 

 boat roar through the fog, we fired a 

 signal shot, and bending to the pad- 

 dles reached the wharf to find the boat 

 waiting for us. At Oldtown I put 

 Darling on his train, and I started for 

 home. It was the most unpleasant 

 trip I have ever made. There were 13 

 consecutive rainy days. I did not fire 

 a single shot at any game, and had 

 vivid experiences with the firewood, 

 swamps, etc. I have since made it a 

 rule to carry surgeon's needles, 

 thread, bandage, lint, and plaster, as 

 well as a medicine case, but have had 

 no occasion to use them. 



"How did all this water get on my 

 coat?" demanded the Deacon. 



"That's the proceeds of the sale," said 

 Molly-Cotton calmly, as she plugged her 

 leaky boat. 



