270 
THE MAINE WOODS. 
made haste to cook here, and then, having partially 
dried our clothes, we glided swiftly down the winding 
stream toward Second Lake. 
As the shores became flatter with frequent gravel and 
sand bars, and the stream more winding in the lower 
land near the lake, elms and ash trees made their ap¬ 
pearance; also the wild yellow lily (Lilium Canadense ), 
some of whose bulbs I collected for a soup. On some 
ridges the burnt land extended as far as the lake. This 
was a very beautiful lake, two or three miles long, with 
high mountains on the southwest side, the (as our Indian 
said) NerlumskeecJiticooh , i. e. Dead-Water Mountain. 
It appears to be the same called Carbuncle Mountain on 
the map. According to Polis, it extends in separate ele¬ 
vations all along this and the next lake, which is much 
larger. The lake, too, I think, is called by the same 
name, or perhaps with the addition of gamoc or mooc. 
The morning was a bright one, and perfectly still and 
serene, the lake as smooth as glass, we making the 
only ripple as we paddled into it. The dark mountains 
about it were seen through a glaucous mist, and the 
brilliant white stems of canoe-birches mingled with the 
other woods around it. The wood-thrush sang on the 
distant shore, and the laugh of some loons, sporting in a 
concealed western bay, as if inspired by the morning, 
came distinct over the lake to us, and, what was remark¬ 
able, the echo which ran round the lake was much louder 
than the original note; probably because, the loon being 
in a regularly curving bay under the mountain, we were 
exactly in the focus of many echoes, the sound being 
reflected like light from a concave mirror. The beauty 
of the scene may have been enhanced to our eyes by the 
fact that we had just come together again after a night 
