226 
THE MAINE WOODS. 
walking. As I sat waiting for him, it would naturally 
seem an unaccountable time that he was gone. There¬ 
fore, as I could see through the woods that the sun was 
getting low, and it was uncertain how far the lake might 
be, even if we were on the right course, and in what 
part of the world we should find ourselves at nightfall, I 
proposed that I should push through with what speed I 
could, leaving boughs to mark my path, and find the lake 
and the Indian, if possible, before night, and send the 
latter back to carry my companion’s bag. 
Having gone about a mile, and got into low ground 
again, I heard a noise like the note of an owl, which I 
soon discovered to be made by the Indian, and answering 
him, we soon came together. He had reached the lake, 
after crossing Mud Pond, and running some rapids be¬ 
low it, and had come up about a mile and a half on our 
path. If he had not come back to meet us, we probably 
should not have found him that night, for the path 
branched once or twice before reaching this particular 
part of the lake. So he went back for my companion 
and his bag, while I kept on. Having waded through 
another stream w T here the bridge of logs had been broken 
up and half floated away, — and this was not altogether 
worse than our ordinary walking, since it was less muddy, 
— we continued on, through alternate mud and water, to 
the shore of Apmoojenegamook Lake, which we reached in 
season for a late supper, instead of dining there, as we 
had expected, having gone without our dinner. It was 
at least five miles by the way we had come, and as my 
companion had gone over most of it three times, he had 
walked full a dozen miles, bad as it was. In the winter, 
when the water is frozen, and the snow is four feet deep, 
it is no doubt a tolerable path to a footman. As it was, 
