10 
THE MAINE WOODS. 
About noon we reached the Mattawamkeag, fifty-six 
miles from Bangor by the way we had come, and put up 
at a frequented house still on the Houlton road, where 
the Houlton stage stops. Here was a substantial cov¬ 
ered bridge over the Mattawamkeag, built, I think they 
said, some seventeen years before. We had dinner,— 
where, by the way, and even at breakfast, as well as 
supper, at the public-houses on this road, the front 
rank is composed of various kinds of “ sweet cakes,” in 
a continuous line from one end of the table to the other. 
I think I may safely say that there was a row of ten 
or a dozen plates of this kind set before us two here. 
To account for which, they say that, when the lumberers 
come out of the woods, they have a craving for cakes 
and pies, and such sweet things, which there are almost 
unknown, and this is the supply to satisfy that demand . 
The supply is always equal to the demand, and these 
hungry men think a good deal of getting their money’s 
worth. No doubt the balance of victuals is restored 
by the time they reach Bangor, — Mattawamkeag takes 
off the raw edge. Well, over this front rank, I say, 
you, coming from the “ sweet cake ” side, with a cheap 
philosophic indifference though it may be, have to as¬ 
sault what there is behind, which I do not by any means 
mean to insinuate is insufficient in quantity or quality to 
supply that other demand, of men, not from the woods, 
but from the towns, for venison and strong country fare. 
After dinner we strolled down to the u Point,” formed 
by the junction of the two rivers, which is said to be 
the scene of an ancient battle between the Eastern In¬ 
dians and the Mohawks, and searched there carefully 
for relics, though the men at the bar-room had never 
heard of such things; but we found only some flakes 
