212 
THE MAINE WOODS. 
ness, and that he was a wild man indeed, to be talking 
to a musquash! I did not know w r hich of the two was 
the strangest to me. He seemed suddenly to have quite 
forsaken humanity, and gone over to the musquash side. 
The musquash, however, as near as I could see, did not 
turn aside, though he may have hesitated a little, and the 
Indian said that he saw our fire; but it was evident that 
he was in the habit of calling the musquash to him, as he 
said. An acquaintance of mine who was hunting moose 
in those woods a month after this, tells me that his Indian 
in this way repeatedly called the musquash within reach 
of his paddle in the moonlight, and struck at them. 
The Indian said a particularly long prayer this Sun¬ 
day evening, as if to atone for working in the morning. 
. Monday, July 27. 
Having rapidly loaded the canoe, which the Indian 
always carefully attended to, that it might be well 
trimmed, and each having taken a look, as usual, to see 
that nothing was left, we set out again, descending the 
Caucomgomoc, and turning northeasterly up the Urnba - 
zooJcslcus . This name, the Indian said, meant Much 
Meadow River. We found it a very meadowy stream, 
and dead water, and now very wide on account of the 
rains, though, he said, it was sometimes quite narrow. 
The space between the woods, chiefly bare meadow, was 
from fifty to two hundred rods in breadth, and is a rare 
place for moose. It reminded me of the Concord; and 
what increased the resemblance, was one old musquash 
house almost afloat. 
In the water on the meadows grew sedges, wool-grass, 
the common blue-flag abundantly, its flower just showing 
itself above the high water, as if it were a blue water- 
