162 
THE MAINE WOODS. 
log, and lie was scraping it with a stick, held by both 
hands. He was stoutly built, perhaps a little above the 
middle height, with a broad face, and, as others said, per¬ 
fect Indian features and complexion. His house was a 
two-story white one with blinds, the best looking that I 
noticed there, and as good as an average one on a New 
England village street. It was surrounded by a garden 
and fruit-trees, single cornstalks standing thinly amid 
the beans. We asked him if he knew any good Indian 
who would like to go into the woods with us, that is, to 
the Allegash Lakes, by way of Moosehead, and return by 
the East Branch of the Penobscot, or vary from this as 
we pleased. To which he answered, out of that strange 
remoteness in which the Indian ever dwells to the white 
man, “ Me like to go myself; me want to get some 
moose”; and kept on scraping the skin. His brother 
had been into the woods with my relative only a year or 
two before, and the Indian now inquired what the latter 
had done to him, that he did not come back, for he had 
not seen nor heard from him since. 
At length we got round to the more interesting topic 
again. The ferryman had told us that all the best 
Indians were gone except Polis, who was one of the aris¬ 
tocracy. He to be sure would be the best man we could 
have, but if he went at all would want a great price ; so 
we did not expect to get him. Polis asked at first two 
dollars a day, but agreed to go for a dollar and a half, 
and fifty cents a week for his canoe. He would come to 
Bangor with his canoe by the seven o’clock train that 
evening, — we might depend on him. We thought our¬ 
selves lucky to secure the services of this man, who was 
known to be particularly steady and trustworthy. 
I spent the v afternoon with my companion, who had 
