RECREATION 



Volume XIII. 



SEPTEMBER, 1900. 

 G. 0. SHIELDS (COQUINA , Editor and Manager. 



Number 3. 



IN THE MAINE WOODS. 



REV. H. E. FROHOCK. 



The sunbeams glanced through the 

 swaying branches whose leaves were 

 still wet from last night's shower. 

 Each drop flashed, diamond-like, 

 pendant from its green background, 

 until, shaken free by the breeze, it 

 glittered through the air to strike 

 with gentle spat on stone or log, 

 brake, bush or tent beneath. Stirring 

 the coals and putting together the 

 ends of what were last night large, 

 green logs, we soon had broiled veni- 

 son, toasted bread and hot coffee with 

 which to satisfy our hunger. After 

 breakfast, the little 3-quart kettle re- 

 ceived its fill of condiments and hard- 

 tack, all covered by a tin plate, and we 

 paddled away to the West shore of 

 the lake to find Pratt brook. 



For a mile we skirted the shores of 

 the lake, passing 7 points and one 

 island before entering the brook. It 

 seemed to be an arm from the lake, 

 reaching back through meadow land, 

 but we soon came to quick water 

 rushing through the rocks, where we 

 must use the setting pole. For 

 another mile we worked our way up 

 this stream until Cooper river was 

 reached, of which Pratt brook is one 

 of the outlets. The Cooper was there 

 about 25 yards wide. After ascend- 

 ing it half a mile we discovered a 

 narrow, dead water reaching toward 

 the North, and exclaimed, "That must 

 be Mud Pond brook ! Let's go up !" 



"Easy now ! Deer often feed in 

 places like this early in the morning." 



We moved so noiselessly that Ben 

 looked back to see if I was paddling. 



Away through the fringe of bushes 

 that bordered the stream, at the farther 

 edge of the logan I saw a buck and a 

 doe. They went away. I do not know 

 where the shot went. A moving 

 canoe, intervening brush and a mov- 

 ing deer make a combination hard to 

 beat with a rifle. Tremendous horns, 

 though. 



The padde resumed soon took 

 us around a point to the left. Away 

 ahead a dark face showed above the 

 grass, with a pair of ears big enough 

 for a Kentucky mule. Ben permitted 

 it to pass with the remark, 



"No horns there." 



The current and rocks combined to 

 make navigation difficult. Ben took 

 the shore, I the setting pole. 



Have you ever tried to pole a canoe 

 up a stream not over deep and 

 much over rocky? It would have 

 been easier to carry most of the way, 

 but thick brush and no path prevent- 

 ed ; so twist around, worm over and 

 squeeze through describes how I pro- 

 gressed. Arriving at the dam, I had 

 a hard lift to get the canoe over and 

 was glad to be afloat. 



Mud pond consists of water 6 

 inches to 2 feet deep, over mud of 

 unknown depth, stretching out just 

 South of a beautiful ridge. Hard and 

 soft wood blended about and above, 

 bewildering frost tints adding charm 

 to all, that October morning. 



We moved up the lake, keeping in 

 the shadow of the East shore with an 

 eye to the West as well. 



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