38 
THE MAINE WOODS. 
for the rapids were ever near, and the daylight long 
past; the woods on shore looked dim, and many an 
IJtawas’ tide here emptied into the lake. 
“ Why should we yet our sail unfurl? 
There is not a breath the blue wave to curl! 
But, when the wind blows off the shore, 
0 sweetly we ’ll rest our weary oar.” 
“ Utawas’ tide! this trembling moon, 
Shall see us float o’er thy surges soon.” 
At last we glided past the “green isle” which had 
been our landmark, all joining in the chorus ; as if by 
the watery links of rivers and of lakes we were about 
to float over unmeasured zones of earth, bound on un¬ 
imaginable adventures, — 
“ Saint of this green isle! hear our prayers, 
0 grant us cool heavens and favoring airs! ” 
About nine o’clock we reached the river, and ran our 
boat into a natural haven between some rocks, and drew 
her out on the sand. This camping-ground McCauslin 
had been familiar with in his lumbering days, and he 
now struck it unerringly in the moonlight, and we heard 
the sound of the rill which would supply us with cool 
water emptying into the lake. The first business was to 
make a fire, an operation which was a little delayed by 
the wetness of the fuel and the ground, owing to the 
heavy showers of the afternoon. The fire is the main 
comfort of the camp, whether in summer or winter, and 
is about as ample at one season as at another. It is as 
well for cheerfulness as for warmth and dryness. It 
forms one side of the camp ; one bright side at any rate. 
Some were dispersed to fetch in dead trees and boughs, 
while Uncle George felled the birches and beeches which 
stood convenient, and soon we had a fire some ten feet 
