diff options
Diffstat (limited to '42500-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 42500-h/42500-h.htm | 1287 |
1 files changed, 412 insertions, 875 deletions
diff --git a/42500-h/42500-h.htm b/42500-h/42500-h.htm index e34e46a..21787cd 100644 --- a/42500-h/42500-h.htm +++ b/42500-h/42500-h.htm @@ -2,7 +2,7 @@ "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> <html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> <head> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> <title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Maine Woods, by Henry David Thoreau</title> @@ -12,8 +12,7 @@ body { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify } -div.chapter {page-break-before: always; - margin-top: 4em;} +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} h1{ text-align: center; @@ -41,12 +40,6 @@ p { margin-bottom: .25em; } p.post {text-indent: 0em;} -.pagenum { - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; -} hr { width: 33%; margin-top: 1em; @@ -73,7 +66,7 @@ hr.ns { .smcap { font-variant: small-caps; } .caption { - font-weight: bold; + font-weight: bold; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; text-align: center; @@ -94,17 +87,17 @@ hr.ns { } .footnote { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; - font-size: 0.9em; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + font-size: 0.9em; } .footnotes { border: dashed 1px; } .footnote .label { - position: absolute; - right: 84%; - text-align: right; + position: absolute; + right: 84%; + text-align: right; } .fnanchor { @@ -123,14 +116,6 @@ hr.ns { text-align: left; } -@media handheld { - .poem { - display: block; - margin-left: 5%; - margin-right: 10%; - } -} - .poem .stanza { margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em; } @@ -161,10 +146,6 @@ table { .tdc { text-align: center; } -.tdr { - text-align: right; - padding-left: 1em; -} .words td { text-indent: 1em;} .words .tdc { @@ -188,59 +169,14 @@ table { .greek { border-bottom: thin dotted #999; } - h1.pg { margin-top: 0em; - font-size: 190%; } - hr.full { width: 100%; - margin-top: 3em; - margin-bottom: 0em; - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; - height: 4px; - border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ - border-style: solid; - border-color: #000000; - clear: both; } +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + </style> </head> <body> - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Maine Woods, by Henry David Thoreau - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Maine Woods -The Writings of Henry David Thoreau, Volume III (of 20) - -Author: Henry David Thoreau - -Release Date: April 9, 2013 [eBook #42500] -Last updated: December 22, 2019 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAINE WOODS *** - - - - -E-text prepared by Melissa McDaniel and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team -from page images generously made available by Internet Archive - - - - - - -</pre> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 42500 ***</div> <p class="center p6 b15"> THE WRITINGS OF<br /> @@ -291,62 +227,50 @@ COPYRIGHT 1892, 1893, AND 1906 BY HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO.</p> <table summary="Table of Contents"> <tr> -<td colspan="2">INTRODUCTORY NOTE</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_IX">ix</a></td> +<td colspan="2"><a href="#pref01">INTRODUCTORY NOTE</a></td> </tr> <tr> -<td colspan="2">KTAADN</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_3">3</a></td> +<td colspan="2"><a href="#chap01">KTAADN</a></td> </tr> <tr> -<td colspan="2">CHESUNCOOK</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_93">93</a></td> +<td colspan="2"><a href="#chap02">CHESUNCOOK</a></td> </tr> <tr> -<td colspan="2">THE ALLEGASH AND EAST BRANCH</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_174">174</a></td> +<td colspan="2"><a href="#chap03">THE ALLEGASH AND EAST BRANCH</a></td> </tr> <tr> -<td colspan="2">APPENDIX</td> +<td colspan="2"><a href="#chap04">APPENDIX</a></td> </tr> <tr> <td> </td> -<td>I. TREES</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_329">329</a></td> +<td><a href="#chap05">I. TREES</a></td> </tr> <tr> <td> </td> -<td>II. FLOWERS AND SHRUBS</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_330">330</a></td> +<td><a href="#chap06">II. FLOWERS AND SHRUBS</a></td> </tr> <tr> <td> </td> -<td>III. LIST OF PLANTS</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_335">335</a></td> +<td><a href="#chap07">III. LIST OF PLANTS</a></td> </tr> <tr> <td> </td> -<td>IV. LIST OF BIRDS</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_347">347</a></td> +<td><a href="#chap08">IV. LIST OF BIRDS</a></td> </tr> <tr> <td> </td> -<td>V. QUADRUPEDS</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_349">349</a></td> +<td><a href="#chap09">V. QUADRUPEDS</a></td> </tr> <tr> <td> </td> -<td>VI. OUTFIT FOR AN EXCURSION</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_350">350</a></td> +<td><a href="#chap10">VI. OUTFIT FOR AN EXCURSION</a></td> </tr> <tr> <td> </td> -<td>VII. A LIST OF INDIAN WORDS</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_351">351</a></td> +<td><a href="#chap11">VII. A LIST OF INDIAN WORDS</a></td> </tr> <tr> -<td colspan="2">INDEX</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_359">359</a></td> +<td colspan="2"><a href="#chap12">INDEX</a></td> </tr> </table> @@ -354,40 +278,31 @@ COPYRIGHT 1892, 1893, AND 1906 BY HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO.</p> <table summary="List of Illustrations"> <tr> -<td>SNOWBERRY, <i>Carbon photograph</i> (<i>page 227</i>)</td> -<td class="tdr"><i><a href="#i_004">Frontispiece</a></i></td> +<td><a href="#i_004">SNOWBERRY, <i>Carbon photograph</i></a></td> </tr> <tr> -<td>MOOSEHEAD LAKE, FROM MOUNT KINEO,</td> -<td class="tdr"><i><a href="#i_008">Colored plate</a></i></td> +<td><a href="#i_008">MOOSEHEAD LAKE, FROM MOUNT KINEO,</a></td> </tr> <tr> -<td>MAINE WILDERNESS</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#i_111">88</a></td> +<td><a href="#i_111">MAINE WILDERNESS</a></td> </tr> <tr> -<td>PINE TREE, BOAR MOUNTAIN</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#i_161">134</a></td> +<td><a href="#i_161">PINE TREE, BOAR MOUNTAIN</a></td> </tr> <tr> -<td>SQUAW MOUNTAIN, MOOSEHEAD LAKE</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#i_215">184</a></td> +<td><a href="#i_215">SQUAW MOUNTAIN, MOOSEHEAD LAKE</a></td> </tr> <tr> -<td>MOOSEHEAD LAKE, FROM MOUNT KINEO</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#i_229">194</a></td> +<td><a href="#i_229">MOOSEHEAD LAKE, FROM MOUNT KINEO</a></td> </tr> <tr> -<td>MOUNT KINEO CLIFF</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#i_337">298</a></td> +<td><a href="#i_337">MOUNT KINEO CLIFF</a></td> </tr> </table> <div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_IX" id="Page_IX"></a></span></p> - -<h2>INTRODUCTORY NOTE</h2> +<h2><a name="pref01"></a>INTRODUCTORY NOTE</h2> <p><span class="smcap">The Maine Woods</span> was the second volume collected from his writings after Thoreau’s death. Of the material @@ -417,7 +332,6 @@ success. It is rather long for my columns, and too fine for the million; but I consider it a cheap bargain, and shall print it myself if I do not dispose of it to better advantage. You will not, of course, consider yourself -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_X" id="Page_X">x</a></span> under any sort of obligation to me, for my offer was in the way of business, and I have got more than the worth of my money.” But this generous, high-minded friend @@ -450,7 +364,6 @@ journey, chiefly from associating with an intelligent Indian.... Having returned, I flatter myself that the world appears in some respects a little larger, and not as usual smaller and shallower for having extended my -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_XI" id="Page_XI">xi</a></span> range. I have made a short excursion into the new world which the Indian dwells in, or is. He begins where we leave off. It is worth the while to detect new @@ -478,7 +391,7 @@ summit if I can get up to it again.”</p> <div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1"></a></span></p> +<p><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1"></a></p> <h2>THE MAINE WOODS</h2> @@ -486,9 +399,9 @@ summit if I can get up to it again.”</p> <div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3"></a></span></p> +<p><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3"></a></p> -<h2>KTAADN</h2> +<h2><a name="chap01"></a>KTAADN</h2> <p><span class="b15">O</span>n the 31st of August, 1846, I left Concord in Massachusetts for Bangor and the backwoods of Maine, by @@ -517,7 +430,7 @@ of the batteau and the boatman’s life. I was fortunate also in the season of the year, for in the summer myriads of black flies, mosquitoes, and midges, or, as the Indians call them, “no-see-ems,” make traveling in -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">4</a></span> +<a name="Page_4" id="Page_4"></a> the woods almost impossible; but now their reign was nearly over.</p> @@ -552,7 +465,7 @@ my companion carried his gun.</p> <p>Within a dozen miles of Bangor we passed through the villages of Stillwater and Oldtown, built at the falls -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">5</a></span> +<a name="Page_5" id="Page_5"></a> of the Penobscot, which furnish the principal power by which the Maine woods are converted into lumber. The mills are built directly over and across the river. @@ -584,7 +497,7 @@ becalmed off our coast being surrounded a week at a time by floating lumber from the Maine woods. The mission of men there seems to be, like so many busy demons, to drive the forest all out of the country, from -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">6</a></span> +<a name="Page_6" id="Page_6"></a> every solitary beaver swamp and mountain-side, as soon as possible.</p> @@ -618,7 +531,7 @@ the boat, a fur-trader’s boat.</p> <p>The ferry here took us past the Indian island. As we left the shore, I observed a short, shabby, washerwoman-looking Indian,—they commonly have the woebegone -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">7</a></span> +<a name="Page_7" id="Page_7"></a> look of the girl that cried for spilt milk,—just from “up river,” land on the Oldtown side near a grocery, and, drawing up his canoe, take out a bundle of skins @@ -651,7 +564,7 @@ East Branch. They are generally well-timbered, and are said to be better soil than the neighboring shores. The river seemed shallow and rocky, and interrupted by rapids, rippling and gleaming in the sun. We paused a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">8</a></span> +<a name="Page_8" id="Page_8"></a> moment to see a fish hawk dive for a fish down straight as an arrow, from a great height, but he missed his prey this time. It was the Houlton road on which we were @@ -683,7 +596,7 @@ it seems, and caucuses they are to have again,—victory and defeat. Somebody may be elected, somebody may not. One man, a total stranger, who stood by our carriage in the dusk, actually frightened the horse with -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">9</a></span> +<a name="Page_9" id="Page_9"></a> his asseverations, growing more solemnly positive as there was less in him to be positive about. So Passadumkeag did not look on the map. At sundown, leaving @@ -716,7 +629,7 @@ considerable search that we discovered their habitations,—small huts, in a retired place, where the scenery was unusually soft and beautiful, and the shore skirted with pleasant meadows and graceful elms. We paddled -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">10</a></span> +<a name="Page_10" id="Page_10"></a> ourselves across to the island side in a canoe, which we found on the shore. Near where we landed sat an Indian girl, ten or twelve years old, on a rock in the water, in @@ -748,7 +661,7 @@ who had accompanied Jackson to the mountain in ’37. The same questions were put to Louis, and the same information obtained, while the other Indian stood by. It appeared that they were going to start by noon, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">11</a></span> +<a name="Page_11" id="Page_11"></a> with two canoes, to go up to Chesuncook to hunt moose,—to be gone a month. “Well, Louis, suppose you get to the Point (to the Five Islands, just below Mattawamkeag) @@ -781,7 +694,7 @@ remarkable. The various evergreens, many of which are rare with us,—delicate and beautiful specimens of the larch, arbor-vitæ, ball-spruce, and fir-balsam, from a few inches to many feet in height,—lined its sides, in -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">12</a></span> +<a name="Page_12" id="Page_12"></a> some places like a long front yard, springing up from the smooth grass-plots which uninterruptedly border it, and are made fertile by its wash; while it was but a step @@ -814,7 +727,7 @@ 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 -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">13</a></span> +<a name="Page_13" id="Page_13"></a> indifference though it may be, have to assault what there is behind, which I do not by any means mean to insinuate is insufficient in quantity or quality @@ -847,7 +760,7 @@ its hall for dancing and for military drills. There was no other evidence of man but this huge shingle palace in this part of the world; but sometimes even this is filled with travelers. I looked off the piazza round the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">14</a></span> +<a name="Page_14" id="Page_14"></a> corner of the house up the Aroostook road, on which there was no clearing in sight. There was a man just adventuring upon it this evening in a rude, original, @@ -879,7 +792,7 @@ copartnership in the future town or city,—indeed, it was already “Somebody & Co.,” I forget who. The woman came forward from the penetralia of the attached house, for “Somebody & Co.” was in the burning, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">15</a></span> +<a name="Page_15" id="Page_15"></a> and she sold us percussion-caps, canalés and smooth, and knew their prices and qualities, and which the hunters preferred. Here was a little of everything in a small @@ -912,7 +825,7 @@ it is ready for grain, and to be laid down. Let those talk of poverty and hard times who will in the towns and cities; cannot the emigrant who can pay his fare to New York or Boston pay five dollars more to get here,—I -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">16</a></span> +<a name="Page_16" id="Page_16"></a> paid three, all told, for my passage from Boston to Bangor, two hundred and fifty miles,—and be as rich as he pleases, where land virtually costs nothing, and @@ -946,7 +859,7 @@ a wad of tow into the lamp, we oiled a sheet of paper on the oiled table-cloth, and, in good faith, traced what we afterwards ascertained to be a labyrinth of errors, carefully following the outlines of the imaginary lakes which -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">17</a></span> +<a name="Page_17" id="Page_17"></a> the map contains. The Map of the Public Lands of Maine and Massachusetts is the only one I have seen that at all deserves the name. It was while we were @@ -979,7 +892,7 @@ a sight of the river,—always a rocky and rippling stream. The roar of the rapids, the note of a whistler duck on the river, of the jay and chickadee around us, and of the pigeon woodpecker in the openings, were the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">18</a></span> +<a name="Page_18" id="Page_18"></a> sounds that we heard. This was what you might call a bran-new country; the only roads were of Nature’s making, and the few houses were camps. Here, then, @@ -1013,7 +926,7 @@ New York amply warm for a winter, which only cumbered the ground and were in the settler’s way. And the whole of that solid and interminable forest is doomed to be gradually devoured thus by fire, like shavings, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">19</a></span> +<a name="Page_19" id="Page_19"></a> no man be warmed by it. At Crocker’s log-hut, at the mouth of Salmon River, seven miles from the Point, one of the party commenced distributing a store of @@ -1031,7 +944,7 @@ once, one on the opposite side of the river, and a few graves even, surrounded by a wooden paling, where already the rude forefathers of a hamlet lie, and a thousand years hence, perchance, some poet will write -his “Elergy in a Country Churchyard.” The “Village +his “Elegy in a Country Churchyard.” The “Village Hampdens,” the “mute, inglorious Miltons,” and Cromwells, “guiltless of” their “country’s blood,” were yet unborn.</p> @@ -1050,7 +963,7 @@ Nicketow, or the Forks, the last of the Indian islands. I am particular to give the names of the settlers and the distances, since every log hut in these woods is a public house, and such information is of no little consequence -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">20</a></span> +<a name="Page_20" id="Page_20"></a> to those who may have occasion to travel this way. Our course here crossed the Penobscot, and followed the southern bank. One of the party, who entered the house @@ -1082,7 +995,7 @@ was an oblong square hole in the middle, three or four feet in diameter, with a fence of logs as high as the ridge. The interstices were filled with moss, and the roof was shingled with long and handsome splints of cedar, or -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">21</a></span> +<a name="Page_21" id="Page_21"></a> spruce, or pine, rifted with a sledge and cleaver. The fireplace, the most important place of all, was in shape and size like the chimney, and directly under it, defined @@ -1113,7 +1026,7 @@ and with the curls and fringes of the yellow birch bark, and dripping with resin, fresh and moist, and redolent of swampy odors, with that sort of vigor and perennialness even about them that toadstools suggest.<a name="FNanchor_1" id="FNanchor_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> The -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">22</a></span> +<a name="Page_22" id="Page_22"></a> logger’s fare consists of tea, molasses, flour, pork (sometimes beef), and beans. A great proportion of the beans raised in Massachusetts find their market here. On @@ -1138,7 +1051,7 @@ having been already culled out, being the only tree much sought after, even as low down as this. Only a little spruce and hemlock beside had been logged here. The Eastern wood which is sold for fuel in Massachusetts -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">23</a></span> +<a name="Page_23" id="Page_23"></a> all comes from below Bangor. It was the pine alone, chiefly the white pine, that had tempted any but the hunter to precede us on this route.</p> @@ -1172,7 +1085,7 @@ abruptly, on all sides but the river, by the naked stems of the forest, as if you were to cut only a few feet square in the midst of a thousand acres of mowing, and set down a thimble therein. He had a whole heaven and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">24</a></span> +<a name="Page_24" id="Page_24"></a> horizon to himself, and the sun seemed to be journeying over his clearing only the livelong day. Here we concluded to spend the night, and wait for the Indians, @@ -1205,7 +1118,7 @@ of an old-settled country, on farms all run out and gone to seed with life-everlasting, in the towns about Boston, even on the high-road in Concord, and not in the back woods of Maine. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">25</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_25" id="Page_25"></a></p> <p>Supper was got before our eyes in the ample kitchen, by a fire which would have roasted an ox; many whole @@ -1239,7 +1152,7 @@ to grease boots with.</p> rain-drops on the cedar splints which covered the roof, and awaked the next morning with a drop or two in our eyes. It had set in for a storm, and we made up -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">26</a></span> +<a name="Page_26" id="Page_26"></a> our minds not to forsake such comfortable quarters with this prospect, but wait for Indians and fair weather. It rained and drizzled and gleamed by turns, the livelong @@ -1272,7 +1185,7 @@ ripened there.</p> tempted by the cheapness of the land mainly. When I asked McCauslin why more settlers did not come in, he answered, that one reason was, they could -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">27</a></span> +<a name="Page_27" id="Page_27"></a> not buy the land, it belonged to individuals or companies who were afraid that their wild lands would be settled, and so incorporated into towns, and they be taxed @@ -1306,7 +1219,7 @@ circumstances, we read a little in these. With such aid, the press is not so feeble an engine, after all. This house, which was a fair specimen of those on this river, was built of huge logs, which peeped out everywhere, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">28</a></span> +<a name="Page_28" id="Page_28"></a> were chinked with clay and moss. It contained four or five rooms. There were no sawed boards, or shingles, or clapboards, about it; and scarcely any tool but the @@ -1340,7 +1253,7 @@ heavens appropriated to sunrise and another to sunset.</p> <p>The next morning, the weather proving fair enough for our purpose, we prepared to start, and, the Indians -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">29</a></span> +<a name="Page_29" id="Page_29"></a> having failed us, persuaded McCauslin, who was not unwilling to revisit the scenes of his driving, to accompany us in their stead, intending to engage one other @@ -1373,7 +1286,7 @@ the pond, at the mouth of the Millinocket River, and eight miles from the lake of the same name, on the latter stream. This lake affords a more direct course to Ktaadn, but we preferred to follow the Penobscot and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">30</a></span> +<a name="Page_30" id="Page_30"></a> the Pamadumcook lakes. Fowler was just completing a new log hut, and was sawing out a window through the logs, nearly two feet thick, when we arrived. He @@ -1405,7 +1318,7 @@ houses only there, his low hut and the eagles’ airy cart-load of fagots. Thomas Fowler, too, was persuaded to join us, for two men were necessary to manage the batteau, which was soon to be our carriage, and these men -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">31</a></span> +<a name="Page_31" id="Page_31"></a> needed to be cool and skillful for the navigation of the Penobscot. Tom’s pack was soon made, for he had not far to look for his waterman’s boots, and a red flannel @@ -1438,7 +1351,7 @@ these woods. He formerly lived a few miles from here, on the south side of the West Branch, where he built his house sixteen years ago, the first house built above the Five Islands. Here our new batteau was to be carried -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">32</a></span> +<a name="Page_32" id="Page_32"></a> over the first portage of two miles, round the Grand Falls of the Penobscot, on a horse-sled made of saplings, to jump the numerous rocks in the way; but we had to @@ -1471,7 +1384,7 @@ large claws instead of teeth, to catch in their sinews. Wolves are frequently killed with poisoned bait.</p> <p>At length, after we had dined here on the usual backwoods -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">33</a></span> +<a name="Page_33" id="Page_33"></a> fare, the horses arrived, and we hauled our batteau out of the water, and lashed it to its wicker carriage, and, throwing in our packs, walked on before, leaving @@ -1503,7 +1416,7 @@ under it, when, luckily, the boat arrived. It would have amused a sheltered man to witness the manner in which it was unlashed, and whirled over, while the first waterspout burst upon us. It was no sooner in the hands of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">34</a></span> +<a name="Page_34" id="Page_34"></a> the eager company than it was abandoned to the first revolutionary impulse, and to gravity, to adjust it; and they might have been seen all stooping to its shelter, and @@ -1535,7 +1448,7 @@ pointed with iron,<a name="FNanchor_2" id="FNanchor_2" href="#Footnote_2" class= shot up the rapids like a salmon, the water rushing and roaring around, so that only a practiced eye could distinguish a safe course, or tell what was deep water and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">35</a></span> +<a name="Page_35" id="Page_35"></a> what rocks, frequently grazing the latter on one or both sides, with a hundred as narrow escapes as ever the Argo had in passing through the Symplegades. I, who had @@ -1570,7 +1483,7 @@ say that the river once ran both ways, one half up and the other down, but that, since the white man came, it all runs down, and now they must laboriously pole their canoes against the stream, and carry them -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">36</a></span> +<a name="Page_36" id="Page_36"></a> over numerous portages. In the summer, all stores—the grindstone and the plow of the pioneer, flour, pork, and utensils for the explorer—must be conveyed up @@ -1603,7 +1516,7 @@ veiled in clouds, like a dark isthmus in that quarter, connecting the heavens with the earth. After two miles of smooth rowing across this lake, we found ourselves in the river again, which was a continuous rapid for one -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">37</a></span> +<a name="Page_37" id="Page_37"></a> mile, to the dam, requiring all the strength and skill of our boatmen to pole up it.</p> @@ -1633,7 +1546,7 @@ which had been left here formerly by one of our company, and <i>had made two converts to the Liberty party</i> here, as I was told; also, an odd number of the <i>Westminster Review</i>, for 1834, and a pamphlet entitled -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">38</a></span> +<a name="Page_38" id="Page_38"></a> “History of the Erection of the Monument on the Grave of Myron Holly.” This was the readable or reading matter in a lumberer’s camp in the Maine woods, @@ -1666,7 +1579,7 @@ which was in sight, though not more than twenty, perhaps, in a straight line.</p> <p>It being about the full of the moon, and a warm and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">39</a></span> +<a name="Page_39" id="Page_39"></a> pleasant evening, we decided to row five miles by moonlight to the head of the North Twin Lake, lest the wind should rise on the morrow. After one mile of river, or @@ -1698,7 +1611,7 @@ to its own yet more dim and distant shore. The shores rose gently to ranges of low hills covered with forests; and though, in fact, the most valuable white-pine timber, even about this lake, had been culled out, this would -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">40</a></span> +<a name="Page_40" id="Page_40"></a> never have been suspected by the voyager. The impression, which indeed corresponded with the fact, was, as if we were upon a high table-land between the States @@ -1731,7 +1644,7 @@ shores in vain to find where it comes in. A stranger is, for the time at least, lost, and must set about a voyage of discovery first of all to find the river. To follow the windings of the shore when the lake is ten miles, or -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">41</a></span> +<a name="Page_41" id="Page_41"></a> even more, in length, and of an irregularity which will not soon be mapped, is a wearisome voyage, and will spend his time and his provisions. They tell a story of @@ -1764,7 +1677,7 @@ utterly uncivilized, big-throated owl hooted loud and dismally in the drear and boughy wilderness, plainly not nervous about his solitary life, nor afraid to hear the echoes of his voice there. We remembered also that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">42</a></span> +<a name="Page_42" id="Page_42"></a> possibly moose were silently watching us from the distant coves, or some surly bear or timid caribou had been startled by our singing. It was with new emphasis @@ -1813,7 +1726,7 @@ and drew her out on the sand. This camping-ground McCauslin had been familiar with in his lumbering days, and he now struck it unerringly in the moonlight, and we heard the sound of the rill which would supply -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">43</a></span> +<a name="Page_43" id="Page_43"></a> us with cool water emptying into the lake. The first business was to make a fire, an operation which was a little delayed by the wetness of the fuel and the ground, @@ -1845,7 +1758,7 @@ lay awake, talking of our course, and finding ourselves in so convenient a posture for studying the heavens, with the moon and stars shining in our faces, our conversation naturally turned upon astronomy, and we -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">44</a></span> +<a name="Page_44" id="Page_44"></a> recounted by turns the most interesting discoveries in that science. But at length we composed ourselves seriously to sleep. It was interesting, when awakened @@ -1877,7 +1790,7 @@ lying at right angles with the boat, till our bodies formed an acute angle with it, and were wholly protected. When next we awoke, the moon and stars were shining again, and there were signs of dawn in the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">45</a></span> +<a name="Page_45" id="Page_45"></a> east. I have been thus particular in order to convey some idea of a night in the woods.</p> @@ -1910,7 +1823,7 @@ another thoroughfare we passed into Deep Cove, a part of the same lake, which makes up two miles, toward the northeast, and rowing two miles across this, by another short thoroughfare, entered Ambejijis Lake. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">46</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_46" id="Page_46"></a></p> <p>At the entrance to a lake we sometimes observed what is technically called “fencing-stuff,” or the unhewn @@ -1944,7 +1857,7 @@ invent new and simple marks where there are so many owners. They have quite an alphabet of their own, which only the practiced can read. One of my companions read off from his memorandum book some -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">47</a></span> +<a name="Page_47" id="Page_47"></a> marks of his own logs, among which there were crosses, belts, crow’s feet, girdles, etc., as, “Y—girdle—crowfoot,” and various other devices. When the logs have @@ -1976,7 +1889,7 @@ a screw at the end of the spike to make it hold. The boys along shore learn to walk on floating logs as city boys on sidewalks. Sometimes the logs are thrown up on rocks in such positions as to be irrecoverable but by -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">48</a></span> +<a name="Page_48" id="Page_48"></a> another freshet as high, or they jam together at rapids and falls, and accumulate in vast piles, which the driver must start at the risk of his life. Such is the lumber @@ -2002,7 +1915,7 @@ of congelation, they persevere, with unabated courage, in their work.” According to Springer, the company consists of choppers, swampers,—who make roads,—barker and loader, teamster, and cook. “When the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">49</a></span> +<a name="Page_49" id="Page_49"></a> trees are felled, they cut them into logs from fourteen to eighteen feet long, and, by means of their cattle, which they employ with great dexterity, drag them to @@ -2035,7 +1948,7 @@ cups. This beverage is as indispensable to the loggers as to any gossiping old women in the land, and they, no doubt, derive great comfort from it. Here was the site of an old logger’s camp, remembered by McCauslin, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">50</a></span> +<a name="Page_50" id="Page_50"></a> now overgrown with weeds and bushes. In the midst of a dense underwood we noticed a whole brick, on a rock, in a small run, clean and red and square as in @@ -2068,7 +1981,7 @@ miles through Pockwockomus Lake, a slight expansion of the river, to the portage of forty rods around the falls of the same name,—Katepskonegan stream coming in on the left; then three quarters of a mile through -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">51</a></span> +<a name="Page_51" id="Page_51"></a> Aboljacarmegus Lake, similar to the last, to the portage of forty rods around the falls of the same name; then half a mile of rapid water to the Sowadnehunk deadwater, @@ -2102,7 +2015,7 @@ them at carries or camps, to which the next comers do not scruple to help themselves, they being the property, commonly, not of an individual, but a company, who can afford to deal liberally. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">52</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_52" id="Page_52"></a></p> <p>I will describe particularly how we got over some of these portages and rapids, in order that the reader may @@ -2135,7 +2048,7 @@ In the same manner they accomplished the other portages. With this crushing weight they must climb and stumble along over fallen trees and slippery rocks of all sizes, where those who walked by the sides were -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">53</a></span> +<a name="Page_53" id="Page_53"></a> continually brushed off, such was the narrowness of the path. But we were fortunate not to have to cut our path in the first place. Before we launched our @@ -2168,7 +2081,7 @@ pole snapped in two; but before he had time to take the spare one, which I reached him, he had saved himself with the fragment upon a rock; and so we got up by a hair’s breadth; and Uncle George exclaimed -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">54</a></span> +<a name="Page_54" id="Page_54"></a> that that was never done before, and he had not tried it if he had not known whom he had got in the bow, nor he in the bow, if he had not known him @@ -2200,7 +2113,7 @@ teeth, and jerk them from your hands, before you have stolen an effectual shove against their palates. The pole is set close to the boat, and the prow is made to overshoot, and just turn the corners of the rocks, in -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">55</a></span> +<a name="Page_55" id="Page_55"></a> the very teeth of the rapids. Nothing but the length and lightness, and the slight draught of the batteau, enables them to make any headway. The bowman @@ -2234,7 +2147,7 @@ the Indian, may learn where they can fit themselves according to the latest fashion, or, at least, recover some of their own lost garments. We christened this the Oak Hall carry. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">56</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_56" id="Page_56"></a></p> <p>The forenoon was as serene and placid on this wild stream in the woods, as we are apt to imagine that Sunday @@ -2268,7 +2181,7 @@ river again, would embarrass an inexperienced voyager not a little.</p> <p>The carry around Pockwockomus Falls was exceedingly -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">57</a></span> +<a name="Page_57" id="Page_57"></a> rough and rocky, the batteau having to be lifted directly from the water up four or five feet on to a rock, and launched again down a similar bank. The rocks @@ -2300,7 +2213,7 @@ while one reset his pole, and then all three forced it upward against any rapid. This was “warping up.” When a part of us walked round at such a place, we generally took the precaution to take out the most -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">58</a></span> +<a name="Page_58" id="Page_58"></a> valuable part of the baggage for fear of being swamped.</p> @@ -2335,7 +2248,7 @@ find trout enough; so, while some prepared the camp, the rest fell to fishing. Seizing the birch poles which some party of Indians, or white hunters, had left on the shore, and baiting our hooks with pork, and with -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">59</a></span> +<a name="Page_59" id="Page_59"></a> trout, as soon as they were caught, we cast our lines into the mouth of the Aboljacknagesic, a clear, swift, shallow stream, which came in from Ktaadn. Instantly @@ -2368,7 +2281,7 @@ all history, indeed, put to a terrestrial use, is mere history; but put to a celestial, is mythology always.</p> <p>But there is the rough voice of Uncle George, who -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">60</a></span> +<a name="Page_60" id="Page_60"></a> commands at the frying-pan, to send over what you’ve got, and then you may stay till morning. The pork sizzles and cries for fish. Luckily for the foolish race, @@ -2400,7 +2313,7 @@ Supper was eaten off a large log, which some freshet had thrown up. This night we had a dish of arbor-vitæ or cedar tea, which the lumberer sometimes uses when other herbs fail,— -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">61</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_61" id="Page_61"></a></p> <div class="poetry-container"> <div class="poem"> @@ -2439,7 +2352,7 @@ as Uncle George said the boatmen called it, about four miles, but as I judged, and as it proved, nearer fourteen. He had never been any nearer the mountain than this, and there was not the slightest trace of man -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">62</a></span> +<a name="Page_62" id="Page_62"></a> to guide us farther in this direction. At first, pushing a few rods up the Aboljacknagesic, or “open-land stream,” we fastened our batteau to a tree, and traveled @@ -2471,7 +2384,7 @@ rising abruptly from the forest; and we looked up at this blue barrier as if it were some fragment of a wall which anciently bounded the earth in that direction. Setting the compass for a northeast course, which was -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">63</a></span> +<a name="Page_63" id="Page_63"></a> the bearing of the southern base of the highest peak, we were soon buried in the woods.</p> @@ -2504,7 +2417,7 @@ furiously rush upon him and trample him to death, unless he is lucky enough to avoid them by dodging round a tree. The largest are nearly as large as a horse, and weigh sometimes one thousand pounds; and it is said -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">64</a></span> +<a name="Page_64" id="Page_64"></a> that they can step over a five-foot gate in their ordinary walk. They are described as exceedingly awkward-looking animals, with their long legs and short bodies, @@ -2537,7 +2450,7 @@ his arm, which pointed to the summit. By the side of a cool mountain rill, amid the woods, where the water began to partake of the purity and transparency of the air, we stopped to cook some of our fishes, which we had -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">65</a></span> +<a name="Page_65" id="Page_65"></a> brought thus far in order to save our hard-bread and pork, in the use of which we had put ourselves on short allowance. We soon had a fire blazing, and stood around @@ -2570,7 +2483,7 @@ whole route; and in one place the bushes were drooping with the weight of the fruit, still as fresh as ever. It was the 7th of September. Such patches afforded a grateful repast, and served to bait the tired party forward. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">66</a></span> +<a name="Page_66" id="Page_66"></a> When any lagged behind, the cry of “blueberries” was most effectual to bring them up. Even at this elevation we passed through a moose-yard, formed @@ -2603,7 +2516,7 @@ stairway, down which a river flowed, I had soon cleared the trees, and paused on the successive shelves, to look back over the country. The torrent was from fifteen to thirty feet wide, without a tributary, and seemingly -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">67</a></span> +<a name="Page_67" id="Page_67"></a> not diminishing in breadth as I advanced; but still it came rushing and roaring down, with a copious tide, over and amidst masses of bare rock, from the very @@ -2635,7 +2548,7 @@ way <i>over</i>, for an eighth of a mile, at the risk, it is true, of treading on some of the plants, not seeing any path <i>through</i> it,—certainly the most treacherous and porous country I ever traveled. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">68</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_68" id="Page_68"></a></p> <div class="poetry-container"> <div class="poem"> @@ -2673,7 +2586,7 @@ as well as of bears. As here was no cedar, we made our bed of coarser feathered spruce; but at any rate the feathers were plucked from the live tree. It was, perhaps, even a more grand and desolate place for a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">69</a></span> +<a name="Page_69" id="Page_69"></a> night’s lodging than the summit would have been, being in the neighborhood of those wild trees, and of the torrent. Some more aërial and finer-spirited winds @@ -2706,7 +2619,7 @@ other, all rocking stones, with cavities between, but scarcely any soil or smoother shelf. They were the raw materials of a planet dropped from an unseen quarry, which the vast chemistry of nature would anon work -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">70</a></span> +<a name="Page_70" id="Page_70"></a> up, or work down, into the smiling and verdant plains and valleys of earth. This was an undone extremity of the globe; as in lignite we see coal in the process of @@ -2739,7 +2652,7 @@ poets, of Atlas, Vulcan, the Cyclops, and Prometheus. Such was Caucasus and the rock where Prometheus was bound. Æschylus had no doubt visited such scenery as this. It was vast, Titanic, and such as man -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">71</a></span> +<a name="Page_71" id="Page_71"></a> never inhabits. Some part of the beholder, even some vital part, seems to escape through the loose grating of his ribs as he ascends. He is more lone than you can @@ -2776,7 +2689,7 @@ gods to climb and pry into their secrets, and try their effect on our humanity. Only daring and insolent men, perchance, go there. Simple races, as savages, do not climb mountains,—their tops are sacred and mysterious -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">72</a></span> +<a name="Page_72" id="Page_72"></a> tracts never visited by them. Pomola is always angry with those who climb to the summit of Ktaadn.</p> @@ -2810,7 +2723,7 @@ gray rock blown off by the wind.</p> <p>I found my companions where I had left them, on the side of the peak, gathering the mountain cranberries, which filled every crevice between the rocks, together -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">73</a></span> +<a name="Page_73" id="Page_73"></a> with blueberries, which had a spicier flavor the higher up they grew, but were not the less agreeable to our palates. When the country is settled, and roads are @@ -2842,7 +2755,7 @@ which we were, was larger than the whole State of Vermont, with its fourteen counties; and this was only a part of the wild lands of Maine. We are concerned now, however, about natural, not political limits. We -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">74</a></span> +<a name="Page_74" id="Page_74"></a> were about eighty miles, as the bird flies, from Bangor, or one hundred and fifteen, as we had ridden, and walked, and paddled. We had to console ourselves @@ -2875,7 +2788,7 @@ place we noticed a rock, two or three feet in diameter, lodged nearly twenty feet high in the crotch of a tree. For the whole four miles we saw but one rill emptying in, and the volume of water did not seem to be increased -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">75</a></span> +<a name="Page_75" id="Page_75"></a> from the first. We traveled thus very rapidly with a downward impetus, and grew remarkably expert at leaping from rock to rock, for leap we must, and leap we did, @@ -2908,7 +2821,7 @@ course, Tom threw down his pack at the foot of the loftiest spruce tree at hand, and shinned up the bare trunk some twenty feet, and then climbed through the green tower, lost to our sight, until he held the topmost -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">76</a></span> +<a name="Page_76" id="Page_76"></a> spray in his hand.<a name="FNanchor_5" id="FNanchor_5" href="#Footnote_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> McCauslin, in his younger days, had marched through the wilderness with a body of troops, under General Somebody, and with one other @@ -2932,7 +2845,7 @@ probably in our course, which we concluded to steer for. On reaching this secluded meadow, we found fresh tracks of moose on the shore of the pond, and the water was still unsettled as if they had fled before us. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">77</a></span> +<a name="Page_77" id="Page_77"></a> A little farther, in a dense thicket, we seemed to be still on their trail. It was a small meadow, of a few acres, on the mountain-side, concealed by the forest, @@ -2965,7 +2878,7 @@ drear and inhuman, though in the midst of cities. Nature was here something savage and awful, though beautiful. I looked with awe at the ground I trod on, to see what the Powers had made there, the form and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">78</a></span> +<a name="Page_78" id="Page_78"></a> fashion and material of their work. This was that Earth of which we have heard, made out of Chaos and Old Night. Here was no man’s garden, but the unhandseled @@ -2997,7 +2910,7 @@ shown some star’s surface, some hard matter in its home! I stand in awe of my body, this matter to which I am bound has become so strange to me. I fear not spirits, ghosts, of which I am one,—<i>that</i> my body -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">79</a></span> +<a name="Page_79" id="Page_79"></a> might,—but I fear bodies, I tremble to meet them. What is this Titan that has possession of me? Talk of mysteries! Think of our life in nature,—daily to @@ -3027,7 +2940,7 @@ would be but little use for it. Moreover, we were unwilling to lose any time in this expedition, lest the wind should rise before we reached the larger lakes, and detain us; for a moderate wind produces quite a sea on -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">80</a></span> +<a name="Page_80" id="Page_80"></a> these waters, in which a batteau will not live for a moment; and on one occasion McCauslin had been delayed a week at the head of the North Twin, which @@ -3060,7 +2973,7 @@ Pacific from the mountains of the Isthmus of Darien. says, “from the top of a high hill, the view was most striking, and much more interesting to me from having been shut up in the woods for the two previous months. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">81</a></span> +<a name="Page_81" id="Page_81"></a> Directly before us lay the broad river, extending across nine or ten miles, its surface broken by a few islands and reefs, and two ships riding at anchor near the @@ -3093,7 +3006,7 @@ scene of a fatal accident of this kind. Sometimes the body is not thrown out for several hours. He himself had performed such a circuit once, only his legs being visible to his companions; but he was fortunately -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">82</a></span> +<a name="Page_82" id="Page_82"></a> thrown out in season to recover his breath.<a name="FNanchor_7" id="FNanchor_7" href="#Footnote_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> In shooting the rapids, the boatman has this problem to solve: to choose a circuitous and safe course amid a thousand @@ -3121,7 +3034,7 @@ of the boat, and let it slide gently over, till the bow is run out ten or twelve feet in the air; then, letting it drop squarely, while one holds the painter, the other leaps in, and his companion following, they are whirled -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">83</a></span> +<a name="Page_83" id="Page_83"></a> down the rapids to a new fall or to smooth water. In a very few minutes they had accomplished a passage in safety, which would be as foolhardy for the unskillful @@ -3154,7 +3067,7 @@ service. Such toil soon wears out the strongest constitution. The drivers are accustomed to work in the cold water in the spring, rarely ever dry; and if one falls in all over he rarely changes his clothes till night, if then, even. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">84</a></span> +<a name="Page_84" id="Page_84"></a> One who takes this precaution is called by a particular nickname, or is turned off. None can lead this life who are not almost amphibious. McCauslin said soberly, @@ -3187,7 +3100,7 @@ batteau, where the fall was ten feet at the bottom, and took us in below. Here was the longest rapid in our voyage, and perhaps the running this was as dangerous and arduous a task as any. Shooting down sometimes -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">85</a></span> +<a name="Page_85" id="Page_85"></a> at the rate, as we judged, of fifteen miles an hour, if we struck a rock we were split from end to end in an instant. Now like a bait bobbing for some river monster, @@ -3220,7 +3133,7 @@ that they could not see a rod before them, and the river was swollen so as to be almost a continuous rapid, so that the doctor <i>cried</i>, when they brought him up by daylight, “Why, Tom, how did you see to steer?” “We -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">86</a></span> +<a name="Page_86" id="Page_86"></a> didn’t steer much,—only kept her straight.” And yet they met with no accident. It is true, the more difficult rapids are higher up than this.</p> @@ -3253,7 +3166,7 @@ was only anxious to know what we “kill,” seeing some partridges in the hands of one of the party, but we had assumed too much anger to permit of a reply. We thought Indians had some honor before. But—“Me -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">87</a></span> +<a name="Page_87" id="Page_87"></a> been sick. Oh, me unwell now. You make bargain, then me go.” They had in fact been delayed so long by a drunken frolic at the Five Islands, and they had not @@ -3286,7 +3199,7 @@ sewn with the roots of the spruce, with horn-beam paddles, he dips his way along. He is but dim and misty to me, obscured by the æons that lie between the bark canoe and the batteau. He builds no house of logs, but -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">88</a></span> +<a name="Page_88" id="Page_88"></a> a wigwam of skins. He eats no hot bread and sweet cake, but musquash and moose meat and the fat of bears. He glides up the Millinocket and is lost to my @@ -3319,7 +3232,7 @@ miry. The aspect of the country, indeed, is universally stern and savage, excepting the distant views of the forest from hills, and the lake prospects, which are mild and civilizing in a degree. The lakes are something -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">89</a></span> +<a name="Page_89" id="Page_89"></a> which you are unprepared for; they lie up so high, exposed to the light, and the forest is diminished to a fine fringe on their edges, with here and there a @@ -3357,7 +3270,7 @@ the inexpressible tenderness and immortal life of the grim forest, where Nature, though it be midwinter, is ever in her spring, where the moss-grown and decaying trees are not old, but seem to enjoy a perpetual youth; -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">90</a></span> +<a name="Page_90" id="Page_90"></a> and blissful, innocent Nature, like a serene infant, is too happy to make a noise, except by a few tinkling, lisping birds and trickling rills?</p> @@ -3395,7 +3308,7 @@ and shingles of which our houses are made grew but yesterday in a wilderness where the Indian still hunts and the moose runs wild. New York has her wilderness within her own borders; and though the sailors of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">91</a></span> +<a name="Page_91" id="Page_91"></a> Europe are familiar with the soundings of her Hudson, and Fulton long since invented the steamboat on its waters, an Indian is still necessary to guide her scientific @@ -3429,7 +3342,7 @@ refinement of Europe, and sending its vessels to Spain, to England, and to the West Indies for its groceries,—and yet only a few axemen have gone “up river,” into the howling wilderness which feeds it. The bear and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">92</a></span> +<a name="Page_92" id="Page_92"></a> deer are still found within its limits; and the moose, as he swims the Penobscot, is entangled amid its shipping, and taken by foreign sailors in its harbor. Twelve miles @@ -3439,13 +3352,13 @@ then commence the batteau and the canoe, and the military road; and sixty miles above, the country is virtually unmapped and unexplored, and there still waves the virgin forest of the New World. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">93</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_93" id="Page_93"></a></p> </div><!--end chapter--> <div class="chapter"> -<h2>CHESUNCOOK</h2> +<h2><a name="chap02"></a>CHESUNCOOK</h2> <p><span class="b15">A</span>t five <span class="s08">P. M.</span>, September 13, 1853, I left Boston, in the steamer, for Bangor, by the outside course. It was @@ -3479,7 +3392,7 @@ inevitable than seasickness, and may have something to do with it. It is like the ducking you get on crossing the line the first time. I trusted that these old customs were abolished. They might with the same propriety -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">94</a></span> +<a name="Page_94" id="Page_94"></a> insist on blacking your face. I heard of one man who complained that somebody had stolen his boots in the night; and when he found them, he wanted to know @@ -3514,7 +3427,7 @@ Joe had conducted two white men a-moose-hunting in the same direction the year before. He arrived by cars at Bangor that evening, with his canoe and a companion, Sabattis Solomon, who was going to leave Bangor -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">95</a></span> +<a name="Page_95" id="Page_95"></a> the following Monday with Joe’s father, by way of the Penobscot, and join Joe in moose-hunting at Chesuncook when we had done with him. They took supper at @@ -3548,7 +3461,7 @@ peering through the mist in the horizon. It was like the sight and odor of cake to a schoolboy. He who rides and keeps the beaten track studies the fences chiefly. Near Bangor, the fence-posts, on account of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">96</a></span> +<a name="Page_96" id="Page_96"></a> the frost’s heaving them in the clayey soil, were not planted in the ground, but were mortised into a transverse horizontal beam lying on the surface. Afterwards, @@ -3580,7 +3493,7 @@ to the lake, the roadside in many places, and fields not long cleared, being densely filled with it as with a crop, to the exclusion of everything else. There were also whole fields full of ferns, now rusty and withering, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">97</a></span> +<a name="Page_97" id="Page_97"></a> which in older countries are commonly confined to wet ground. There were very few flowers, even allowing for the lateness of the season. It chanced that I saw no @@ -3613,7 +3526,7 @@ told us that he had found a wilderness where we found him. At a fork in the road between Abbot and Monson, about twenty miles from Moosehead Lake, I saw a guide-post surmounted by a pair of moose horns, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">98</a></span> +<a name="Page_98" id="Page_98"></a> spreading four or five feet, with the word “Monson” painted on one blade, and the name of some other town on the other. They are sometimes used for ornamental @@ -3646,7 +3559,7 @@ ditches were awful to behold,—a vast hollowness, like that between Saturn and his ring. At a tavern hereabouts the hostler greeted our horse as an old acquaintance, though he did not remember the driver. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">99</a></span> +<a name="Page_99" id="Page_99"></a> He said that he had taken care of that little mare for a short time, a year or two before, at the Mount Kineo House, and thought she was not in as good condition @@ -3680,7 +3593,7 @@ As it still rained, he asked if we were going to “put it through.” He was a good-looking Indian, twenty-four years old, apparently of unmixed blood, short and stout, with a broad face and reddish complexion, and eyes, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">100</a></span> +<a name="Page_100" id="Page_100"></a> methinks, narrower and more turned up at the outer corners than ours, answering to the description of his race. Besides his underclothing, he wore a red flannel @@ -3713,7 +3626,7 @@ female among them: a St. Francis Indian, with his canoe and moose-hides; two explorers for lumber; three men who landed at Sandbar Island, and a gentleman who lives on Deer Island, eleven miles up the lake, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">101</a></span> +<a name="Page_101" id="Page_101"></a> and owns also Sugar Island, between which and the former the steamer runs; these, I think, were all beside ourselves. In the saloon was some kind of musical @@ -3746,7 +3659,7 @@ clouds; but Mount Kineo is the principal feature of the lake, and more exclusively belongs to it. After leaving Greenville, at the foot, which is the nucleus of a town some eight or ten years old, you see but three -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">102</a></span> +<a name="Page_102" id="Page_102"></a> or four houses for the whole length of the lake, or about forty miles, three of them the public houses at which the steamer is advertised to stop, and the shore is @@ -3780,7 +3693,7 @@ in sight.</p> <p>We reached the head of the lake about noon. The weather had, in the meanwhile, cleared up, though the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">103</a></span> +<a name="Page_103" id="Page_103"></a> mountains were still capped with clouds. Seen from this point, Mount Kineo, and two other allied mountains ranging with it northeasterly, presented a very @@ -3813,7 +3726,7 @@ grew abundantly between the rails,—as Labrador-tea, <i>Kalmia glauca</i>, Canada blueberry (which was still in fruit, and a second time in bloom), <i>Clintonia</i> and <i>Linnæa borealis</i>, which last a lumberer called <i>moxon</i>, creeping -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">104</a></span> +<a name="Page_104" id="Page_104"></a> snowberry, painted trillium, large-flowered bellwort, etc. I fancied that the <i>Aster Radula</i>, <i>Diplopappus umbellatus</i>, <i>Solidago lanceolata</i>, red trumpet-weed, and many @@ -3846,7 +3759,7 @@ harbor. It is higher than Chesuncook, for the lumberers consider the Penobscot, where we struck it, twenty-five feet lower than Moosehead, though eight miles above it is said to be the highest, so that the water -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">105</a></span> +<a name="Page_105" id="Page_105"></a> can be made to flow either way, and the river falls a good deal between here and Chesuncook. The carry-man called this about one hundred and forty miles above @@ -3880,7 +3793,7 @@ high on crossed stakes, and poured water into it. I narrowly watched his motions, and listened attentively to his observations, for we had employed an Indian mainly that I might have an opportunity to study his ways. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">106</a></span> +<a name="Page_106" id="Page_106"></a> I heard him swear once, mildly, during this operation, about his knife being as dull as a hoe,—an accomplishment which he owed to his intercourse with the whites; @@ -3914,7 +3827,7 @@ or stood up, and experienced no inconvenience.</p> <p>It was deadwater for a couple of miles. The river had been raised about two feet by the rain, and lumberers -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">107</a></span> +<a name="Page_107" id="Page_107"></a> were hoping for a flood sufficient to bring down the logs that were left in the spring. Its banks were seven or eight feet high, and densely covered with white @@ -3947,7 +3860,7 @@ the Matahumkeag of the maps. My companion wished to look for moose signs, and intended, if it proved worth the while, to camp up that way, since the Indian advised it. On account of the rise of the Penobscot, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">108</a></span> +<a name="Page_108" id="Page_108"></a> the water ran up this stream to the pond of the same name, one or two miles. The Spencer Mountains, east of the north end of Moosehead Lake, were now in plain @@ -3980,7 +3893,7 @@ numerous and fresh here. We noticed in a great many places narrow and well-trodden paths by which they had come down to the river, and where they had slid on the steep and clayey bank. Their tracks were either -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">109</a></span> +<a name="Page_109" id="Page_109"></a> close to the edge of the stream, those of the calves distinguishable from the others, or in shallow water; the holes made by their feet in the soft bottom being visible @@ -4013,7 +3926,7 @@ merely to prepare our camp, and leave our baggage here, that all might be ready when we returned from moose-hunting. Though I had not come a-hunting, and felt some compunctions about accompanying -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">110</a></span> +<a name="Page_110" id="Page_110"></a> the hunters, I wished to see a moose near at hand, and was not sorry to learn how the Indian managed to kill one. I went as reporter or chaplain to the hunters,—and @@ -4046,7 +3959,7 @@ there. When we told Joe of this, he exclaimed, “By George, I’ll bet that was a moose! They make a noise like that.” These sounds affected us strangely, and by their very resemblance to a familiar one, where they -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">111</a></span> +<a name="Page_111" id="Page_111"></a> probably had so different an origin, enhanced the impression of solitude and wildness.</p> @@ -4079,7 +3992,7 @@ explorers; they standing before it in their red shirts, and talking aloud of the adventures and profits of the day. They were just then speaking of a bargain, in which, as I understood, somebody had cleared twenty-five -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">112</a></span> +<a name="Page_112" id="Page_112"></a> dollars. We glided by without speaking, close under the bank, within a couple of rods of them; and Joe, taking his horn, imitated the call of the moose, till we @@ -4113,7 +4026,7 @@ far behind, Joe laid down his paddle, drew forth his birch horn,—a straight one, about fifteen inches long and three or four wide at the mouth, tied round with strips of the same bark,—and, standing up, imitated -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">113</a></span> +<a name="Page_113" id="Page_113"></a> the call of the moose,—<i>ugh-ugh-ugh</i>, or <i>oo-oo-oo-oo</i>, and then a prolonged <i>oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o</i>, and listened attentively for several minutes. We asked him what @@ -4147,7 +4060,7 @@ whether from its windings or its inhabitants. It was bordered here and there by narrow meadows between the stream and the endless forest, affording favorable places for the moose to feed, and to call them -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">114</a></span> +<a name="Page_114" id="Page_114"></a> out on. We proceeded half a mile up this as through a narrow, winding canal, where the tall, dark spruce and firs and arbor-vitæ towered on both sides in the @@ -4180,7 +4093,7 @@ Joe answered, that the moose had heard that sound a thousand times, and knew better; and oftener still we were startled by the plunge of a musquash. Once, when Joe had called again, and we were listening for moose, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">115</a></span> +<a name="Page_115" id="Page_115"></a> we heard, come faintly echoing, or creeping from far through the moss-clad aisles, a dull, dry, rushing sound with a solid core to it, yet as if half smothered under @@ -4213,7 +4126,7 @@ wood that night as would, with economy and an air-tight stove, last a poor family in one of our cities all winter. It was very agreeable, as well as independent, thus lying in the open air, and the fire kept our uncovered -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">116</a></span> +<a name="Page_116" id="Page_116"></a> extremities warm enough. The Jesuit missionaries used to say, that, in their journeys with the Indians in Canada, they lay on a bed which had never @@ -4247,7 +4160,7 @@ of our domains before the dew was off, and found that the ground-hemlock, or American yew, was the prevailing undershrub. We breakfasted on tea, hard-bread, and ducks. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">117</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_117" id="Page_117"></a></p> <p>Before the fog had fairly cleared away we paddled down the stream again, and were soon past the mouth @@ -4280,7 +4193,7 @@ and alders, and wool-grass on the islands, as along the Assabet River in Concord. It was too late for flowers, except a few asters, goldenrods, etc. In several places we noticed the slight frame of a camp, such -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">118</a></span> +<a name="Page_118" id="Page_118"></a> as we had prepared to set up, amid the forest by the riverside, where some lumberers or hunters had passed a night, and sometimes steps cut in the muddy or @@ -4314,7 +4227,7 @@ its confidence in the towns to a remarkable degree.</p> <p>Joe at length returned, after an hour and a half, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">119</a></span> +<a name="Page_119" id="Page_119"></a> said that he had been two miles up the stream exploring, and had seen a moose, but, not having the gun, he did not get him. We made no complaint, but concluded @@ -4347,7 +4260,7 @@ the trees over twenty or thirty acres, and left them drying in order to burn. This was the only preparation for a house between the Moosehead Carry and Chesuncook, but there was no hut nor inhabitants there -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">120</a></span> +<a name="Page_120" id="Page_120"></a> yet. The pioneer thus selects a site for his house, which will, perhaps, prove the germ of a town.</p> @@ -4381,7 +4294,7 @@ struck. All the rest of the pines had been driven off.</p> <p>How far men go for the material of their houses! The inhabitants of the most civilized cities, in all ages, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">121</a></span> +<a name="Page_121" id="Page_121"></a> send into far, primitive forests, beyond the bounds of their civilization, where the moose and bear and savage dwell, for their pine boards for ordinary use. And, on @@ -4415,7 +4328,7 @@ miles below Ragmuff, where the river expanded to thirty rods in width and had many islands in it, with elms and canoe-birches, now yellowing, along the shore, and we got our first sight of Ktaadn. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">122</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_122" id="Page_122"></a></p> <p>Here, about two o’clock, we turned up a small branch three or four rods wide, which comes in on the @@ -4448,7 +4361,7 @@ the retrograde movement, was now the farthest from the game; but being warned of its neighborhood, he hastily stood up, and, while we ducked, fired over our heads one barrel at the foremost, which alone he saw, though -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">123</a></span> +<a name="Page_123" id="Page_123"></a> he did not know what kind of creature it was; whereupon this one dashed across the meadow and up a high bank on the northeast, so rapidly as to leave but an @@ -4480,7 +4393,7 @@ but two or three rods across the meadow to the foot of the bank, which, like all the world thereabouts, was densely wooded; but I was surprised to notice, that, as soon as the moose had passed behind the veil of the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">124</a></span> +<a name="Page_124" id="Page_124"></a> woods, there was no sound of footsteps to be heard from the soft, damp moss which carpets that forest, and long before we landed, perfect silence reigned. @@ -4514,7 +4427,7 @@ search.</p> <p>I observed, while he was tracking the moose, a certain reticence or moderation in him. He did not communicate -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">125</a></span> +<a name="Page_125" id="Page_125"></a> several observations of interest which he made, as a white man would have done, though they may have leaked out afterward. At another time, when we heard @@ -4547,7 +4460,7 @@ companion went in search of the calf again. I took hold of the ears of the moose, while Joe pushed his canoe down-stream toward a favorable shore, and so we made out, though with some difficulty, its long nose -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">126</a></span> +<a name="Page_126" id="Page_126"></a> frequently sticking in the bottom, to drag it into still shallower water. It was a brownish-black, or perhaps a dark iron-gray, on the back and sides, but lighter @@ -4580,7 +4493,7 @@ with a tape, was just six feet from the tip of the hoof to the shoulders, and eight feet long as she lay.</p> <p>When afterward I asked an Indian at the carry how -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">127</a></span> +<a name="Page_127" id="Page_127"></a> much taller the male was, he answered, “Eighteen inches,” and made me observe the height of a cross-stake over the fire, more than four feet from the ground, @@ -4612,7 +4525,7 @@ of the hoofs, which divide very far up, and the one half could be pressed very much behind the other, thus probably making the animal surer-footed on the uneven ground and slippery moss-covered logs of the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">128</a></span> +<a name="Page_128" id="Page_128"></a> primitive forest. They were very unlike the stiff and battered feet of our horses and oxen. The bare, horny part of the fore foot was just six inches long, and the @@ -4646,7 +4559,7 @@ and the ghastly naked red carcass appearing from within its seemly robe, which was made to hide it. The ball had passed through the shoulder-blade diagonally and lodged under the skin on the opposite side, and was -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">129</a></span> +<a name="Page_129" id="Page_129"></a> partially flattened. My companion keeps it to show to his grandchildren. He has the shanks of another moose which he has since shot, skinned and stuffed, ready to @@ -4679,7 +4592,7 @@ concluded to go farther up it and camp, and then hunt up or down at night. Half a mile above this, at a place where I saw the <i>Aster puniceus</i> and the beaked hazel, as we paddled along, Joe, hearing a slight rustling -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">130</a></span> +<a name="Page_130" id="Page_130"></a> amid the alders, and seeing something black about two rods off, jumped up and whispered, “Bear!” but before the hunter had discharged his piece, he corrected @@ -4712,7 +4625,7 @@ to make our way along the shore, while Joe endeavored to get up in the birch alone, though it was still very difficult for him to pick his way amid the rocks in the night. We on the shore found the worst of walking, a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">131</a></span> +<a name="Page_131" id="Page_131"></a> perfect chaos of fallen and drifted trees, and of bushes projecting far over the water, and now and then we made our way across the mouth of a small tributary on @@ -4744,7 +4657,7 @@ was the illusion. I fairly lost myself in sleep several times, still dreaming of that architecture and the nobility that dwelt behind and might issue from it: but all at once I would be aroused and brought back to a sense -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">132</a></span> +<a name="Page_132" id="Page_132"></a> of my actual position by the sound of Joe’s birch horn in the midst of all this silence calling the moose, <i>ugh</i>, <i>ugh</i>, <i>oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo</i>, and I prepared to hear a furious @@ -4777,7 +4690,7 @@ feet high. Joe told us of some hunters who a year or two before had shot down several oxen by night, somewhere in the Maine woods, mistaking them for moose. And so might any of the hunters; and what is the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">133</a></span> +<a name="Page_133" id="Page_133"></a> difference in the sport, but the name? In the former case, having killed one of God’s and <i>your own</i> oxen, you strip off its hide,—because that is the common @@ -4811,7 +4724,7 @@ as tenderly and daintily as one would pluck a flower.</p> I decided to leave my companions to continue moose-hunting down the stream, while I prepared the camp, though they requested me not to chop much nor -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">134</a></span> +<a name="Page_134" id="Page_134"></a> make a large fire, for fear I should scare their game. In the midst of the damp fir wood, high on the mossy bank, about nine o’clock of this bright moonlight night, @@ -4844,7 +4757,7 @@ pine than a dead human carcass is a man. Can he who has discovered only some of the values of whalebone and whale oil be said to have discovered the true use of the whale? Can he who slays the elephant for his -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">135</a></span> +<a name="Page_135" id="Page_135"></a> ivory be said to have “seen the elephant”? These are petty and accidental uses; just as if a stronger race were to kill us in order to make buttons and flageolets @@ -4882,7 +4795,7 @@ most. It is the living spirit of the tree, not its spirit of turpentine, with which I sympathize, and which heals my cuts. It is as immortal as I am, and perchance will go to as high a heaven, there to tower above me still. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">136</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_136" id="Page_136"></a></p> <p>Ere long, the hunters returned, not having seen a moose, but, in consequence of my suggestions, bringing @@ -4917,7 +4830,7 @@ the mountains about Ktaadn (<i>Katahdinauquoh</i> one says they are called), like a cluster of blue fungi of rank growth, apparently twenty-five or thirty miles distant, in a southeast direction, their summits concealed by -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">137</a></span> +<a name="Page_137" id="Page_137"></a> clouds. Joe called some of them the Sowadnehunk Mountains. This is the name of a stream there, which another Indian told us meant “running between mountains.” @@ -4950,7 +4863,7 @@ launched in. There were five other huts with small clearings on the opposite side of the lake, all at this end and visible from this point. One of the Smiths told me that it was so far cleared that they came here to live and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">138</a></span> +<a name="Page_138" id="Page_138"></a> built the present house four years before, though the family had been here but a few months.</p> @@ -4984,7 +4897,7 @@ of your frilled or fluted columns, which have cut such a false swell, and support nothing but a gable end and their builder’s pretensions,—that is, with the multitude; and as for “ornamentation,” one of those words with a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">139</a></span> +<a name="Page_139" id="Page_139"></a> dead tail which architects very properly use to describe their flourishes, there were the lichens and mosses and fringes of bark, which nobody troubled himself about. @@ -5017,7 +4930,7 @@ piled up, with a coating of bark like its original.</p> and it answered for a refrigerator at this season, our moose meat being kept there. It was a potato hole with a permanent roof. Each structure and institution here -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">140</a></span> +<a name="Page_140" id="Page_140"></a> was so primitive that you could at once refer it to its source; but our buildings commonly suggest neither their origin nor their purpose. There was a large, and @@ -5051,7 +4964,7 @@ christened John or Ansell.</p> <p>Smith owned two miles down the lake by half a mile in width. There were about one hundred acres cleared here. He cut seventy tons of English hay this year on -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">141</a></span> +<a name="Page_141" id="Page_141"></a> this ground, and twenty more on another clearing, and he uses it all himself in lumbering operations. The barn was crowded with pressed hay, and a machine to press @@ -5084,7 +4997,7 @@ How they got a cat up there I do not know, for they are as shy as my aunt about entering a canoe. I wondered that she did not run up a tree on the way; but perhaps she was bewildered by the very crowd of opportunities. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">142</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_142" id="Page_142"></a></p> <p>Twenty or thirty lumberers, Yankee and Canadian, were coming and going,—Aleck among the rest,—and @@ -5119,7 +5032,7 @@ not to go there. Joe spent this Sunday and the night with his acquaintances. The lumberers told me that there were many moose hereabouts, but no caribou or deer. A man from Oldtown had killed ten or twelve -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">143</a></span> +<a name="Page_143" id="Page_143"></a> moose, within a year, so near the house that they heard all his guns. His name may have been Hercules, for aught I know, though I should rather have expected to @@ -5152,7 +5065,7 @@ woods, showed a rise and fall of six or eight feet, caused partly by the dam at the outlet. They said that in winter the snow was three feet deep on a level here, and sometimes four or five,—that the ice on the lake was -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">144</a></span> +<a name="Page_144" id="Page_144"></a> two feet thick, clear, and four feet including the snow-ice. Ice had already formed in vessels.</p> @@ -5187,7 +5100,7 @@ war, and a single man seen about the premises is a sentinel on duty. You expect that he will require the countersign, and will perchance take you for Ethan Allen, come to demand the surrender of his fort in the name of the Continental -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">145</a></span> +<a name="Page_145" id="Page_145"></a> Congress. It is a sort of ranger service. Arnold’s expedition is a daily experience with these settlers. They can prove that they were out at almost any time; @@ -5221,7 +5134,7 @@ the Moosehorn. He was pretty well acquainted with this stream, but he had noticed that I was curious about distances, and had several maps. He and Indians generally, with whom I have talked, are not able to describe dimensions -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">146</a></span> +<a name="Page_146" id="Page_146"></a> or distances in our measures with any accuracy. He could tell, perhaps, at what time we should arrive, but not how far it was. We saw a few wood ducks, sheldrakes, @@ -5254,7 +5167,7 @@ and complexion, for all that I could see. We here cooked the tongue of the moose for supper,—having left the nose, which is esteemed the choicest part, at Chesuncook, boiling, it being a good deal of trouble to prepare -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">147</a></span> +<a name="Page_147" id="Page_147"></a> it. We also stewed our tree-cranberries (<i>Viburnum opulus</i>), sweetening them with sugar. The lumberers sometimes cook them with molasses. They were used in @@ -5287,7 +5200,7 @@ six high. Where any flesh still adhered, Joe boldly scored it with his knife to lay it open to the sun. It now appeared somewhat spotted and injured by the duck shot. You may see the old frames on which hides -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">148</a></span> +<a name="Page_148" id="Page_148"></a> have been stretched at many camping-places in these woods.</p> @@ -5321,7 +5234,7 @@ this to the ground. The covering was partly an old sail, partly birch-bark, quite imperfect, but securely tied on, and coming down to the ground on the sides. A large log was rolled up at the back side for a headboard, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">149</a></span> +<a name="Page_149" id="Page_149"></a> two or three moose-hides were spread on the ground with the hair up. Various articles of their wardrobe were tucked around the sides and corners, or under the roof. @@ -5353,7 +5266,7 @@ was a moose-hide stretched and curing on poles like ours, and quite a pile of cured skins close by. They had killed twenty-two moose within two months, but, as they could use but very little of the meat, they left the carcases -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">150</a></span> +<a name="Page_150" id="Page_150"></a> on the ground. Altogether it was about as savage a sight as was ever witnessed, and I was carried back at once three hundred years. There were many torches of @@ -5386,7 +5299,7 @@ sufferings of the Jesuit missionaries, and what extremes of heat and cold the Indians were said to endure. I struggled long between my desire to remain and talk with them and my impulse to rush out and stretch myself on -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">151</a></span> +<a name="Page_151" id="Page_151"></a> the cool grass; and when I was about to take the last step, Joe, hearing my murmurs, or else being uncomfortable himself, got up and partially dispersed the fire. @@ -5420,7 +5333,7 @@ lay, as near to the primitive man of America, that night, as any of its discoverers ever did.</p> <p>In the midst of their conversation, Joe suddenly -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">152</a></span> +<a name="Page_152" id="Page_152"></a> appealed to me to know how long Moosehead Lake was.</p> @@ -5453,7 +5366,7 @@ but they did not come out to the water. It was of no use to hunt them at midnight,—they would not come out then. I asked Sabattis, after he came home, if the moose never attacked him. He answered that you must not -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">153</a></span> +<a name="Page_153" id="Page_153"></a> fire many times, so as to mad him. “I fire once and hit him in the right place, and in the morning I find him. He won’t go far. But if you keep firing, you mad him. @@ -5486,7 +5399,7 @@ caribou were ever gnawed while the creature was alive, as some have asserted. An Indian, whom I met after this at Oldtown, who had carried about a bear and other animals of Maine to exhibit, told me that thirty years -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">154</a></span> +<a name="Page_154" id="Page_154"></a> ago there were not so many moose in Maine as now; also, that the moose were very easily tamed, and would come back when once fed, and so would deer, but not @@ -5520,7 +5433,7 @@ long, to dry along with the moose meat over the fire, wishing to preserve them; but Sabattis told me that I must skin and cure them, else the hair would all come off. He observed that they made tobacco pouches of the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">155</a></span> +<a name="Page_155" id="Page_155"></a> skins of their ears, putting the two together inside to inside. I asked him how he got fire; and he produced a little cylindrical box of friction matches. He also had @@ -5553,7 +5466,7 @@ did not run away, the river coming in on one side and passing out again near the same place, leaving a permanent bay. Another Indian said, that it meant Large Bay Lake, and that <i>Sebago</i> and <i>Sebec</i>, the names of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">156</a></span> +<a name="Page_156" id="Page_156"></a> other lakes, were kindred words, meaning large open water. Joe said that <i>Seboois</i> meant Little River. I observed their inability, often described, to convey an @@ -5586,7 +5499,7 @@ Gull Lake.” <i>Pammadumcook</i>, Joe thought, meant the Lake with Gravelly Bottom or Bed. <i>Kenduskeag</i>, Tahmunt concluded at last, after asking if birches went up it,—for he said that he was not much acquainted -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">157</a></span> +<a name="Page_157" id="Page_157"></a> with it,—meant something like this: “You go up Penobscot till you come to <i>Kenduskeag</i>, and you go by, you don’t turn up there. That is <i>Kenduskeag</i>.” (?) @@ -5620,7 +5533,7 @@ at Quebec, my companion inquired the meaning of the word <i>Quebec</i>, about which there has been so much question. He did not know, but began to conjecture. He asked what those great ships were called that carried -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">158</a></span> +<a name="Page_158" id="Page_158"></a> soldiers. “Men-of-war,” we answered. “Well,” he said, “when the English ships came up the river, they could not go any farther, it was so narrow there; they must go @@ -5654,7 +5567,7 @@ the fire for their breakfast; and while my companion was making tea, I caught a dozen sizable fishes in the Penobscot, two kinds of sucker and one trout. After we had breakfasted by ourselves, one of our bed-fellows, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">159</a></span> +<a name="Page_159" id="Page_159"></a> who had also breakfasted, came along, and, being invited, took a cup of tea, and finally, taking up the common platter, licked it clean. But he was nothing to @@ -5688,7 +5601,7 @@ dandy, who had evidently come over the carry to show himself to any arrivers on the north shore of Moosehead Lake, just as New York dandies take a turn up Broadway and stand on the steps of a hotel. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">160</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_160" id="Page_160"></a></p> <p>Midway the lake we took on board two manly-looking middle-aged men, with their batteau, who had been exploring @@ -5722,7 +5635,7 @@ five hundred feet, and was worth ninety dollars in the log at the Bangor boom in Oldtown. They cut a road three and a half miles long for this tree alone. He thought that the principal locality for the white pine -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">161</a></span> +<a name="Page_161" id="Page_161"></a> that came down the Penobscot now was at the head of the East Branch and the Allegash, about Webster Stream and Eagle and Chamberlain lakes. Much timber @@ -5755,7 +5668,7 @@ which I suppose is their town-house, was regularly framed and shingled like the rest. There were several of two stories, quite neat, with front yards inclosed, and one at least had green blinds. Here and there were -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">162</a></span> +<a name="Page_162" id="Page_162"></a> moose-hides stretched and drying about them. There were no cart-paths, nor tracks of horses, but footpaths; very little land cultivated, but an abundance of weeds, @@ -5788,7 +5701,7 @@ of the humblest of them all. Personalities are allowable in speaking of public men, therefore I will give the particulars of our visit. He was abed. When we entered the room, which was one half of the house, he was sitting -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">163</a></span> +<a name="Page_163" id="Page_163"></a> on the side of the bed. There was a clock hanging in one corner. He had on a black frock coat, and black pants, much worn, white cotton shirt, socks, a red silk handkerchief @@ -5820,7 +5733,7 @@ then the squaw who sat on the bed by his side, as the Governor’s aid, and had been putting in a word now and then and confirming the story, asked me what we called that soft thing we find along the seashore. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">164</a></span> +<a name="Page_164" id="Page_164"></a> “Jelly-fish,” I suggested. “Yes,” said he, “no bowels, but jelly-fish.”</p> @@ -5854,7 +5767,7 @@ and deaf, permitted himself to be ignored, while we asked questions about him. The former said that there were two political parties among them,—one in favor of schools, and the other opposed to them, or rather -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">165</a></span> +<a name="Page_165" id="Page_165"></a> they did not wish to resist the priest, who was opposed to them. The first had just prevailed at the election and sent their man to the legislature. Neptune and Aitteon @@ -5887,7 +5800,7 @@ I had heard of him long before, and I inquired after one of his contemporaries, Joe Four-pence-ha’penny; but alas! he no longer circulates. I made a faithful study of canoe-building, and I thought that I -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">166</a></span> +<a name="Page_166" id="Page_166"></a> should like to serve an apprenticeship at that trade for one season, going into the woods for bark with my “boss,” making the canoe there, and returning in it at @@ -5921,7 +5834,7 @@ as stand all over New England, out of odds and ends; and it may be that I saw where the picket-fence behind which I dwell at home came from. I was surprised to find a boy collecting the long edgings of boards as fast as -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">167</a></span> +<a name="Page_167" id="Page_167"></a> cut off, and thrusting them down a hopper, where they were ground up beneath the mill, that they might be out of the way; otherwise they accumulate in vast piles @@ -5954,7 +5867,7 @@ occupied our oldest townships, and the tame one which I find there to-day. It is a difference which would be worth attending to. The civilized man not only clears the land permanently to a great extent, and cultivates -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">168</a></span> +<a name="Page_168" id="Page_168"></a> open fields, but he tames and cultivates to a certain extent the forest itself. By his mere presence, almost, he changes the nature of the trees as no other creature @@ -5987,7 +5900,7 @@ wood-lot, some widow’s thirds, from which her ancestors have sledded fuel for generations, minutely described in some old deed which is recorded, of which the owner has got a plan, too, and old bound-marks may be found -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">169</a></span> +<a name="Page_169" id="Page_169"></a> every forty rods, if you will search. ’Tis true, the map may inform you that you stand on land granted by the State to some academy, or on Bingham’s purchase; but @@ -6020,7 +5933,7 @@ Shall we leave it to an Englishman to inform us, that are the most extensive pine forests in the world”? The greater part of New Brunswick, the northern half of Maine, and adjacent parts of Canada, not to mention the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">170</a></span> +<a name="Page_170" id="Page_170"></a> northeastern part of New York and other tracts farther off, are still covered with an almost unbroken pine forest.</p> @@ -6053,7 +5966,7 @@ individual speculators were to be allowed to export the clouds out of the sky, or the stars out of the firmament, one by one. We shall be reduced to gnaw the very crust of the earth for nutriment. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">171</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_171" id="Page_171"></a></p> <p>They have even descended to smaller game. They have lately, as I hear, invented a machine for chopping @@ -6086,7 +5999,7 @@ where only one grew before does not begin to be superhuman.</p> but still varied landscape. For a permanent residence, it seemed to me that there could be no comparison between this and the wilderness, necessary as the latter -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">172</a></span> +<a name="Page_172" id="Page_172"></a> is for a resource and a background, the raw material of all our civilization. The wilderness is simple, almost to barrenness. The partially cultivated country it is which @@ -6119,7 +6032,7 @@ mosses which feed on it, and built hearths and humanized Nature for him.</p> <p>But there are spirits of a yet more liberal culture, to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">173</a></span> +<a name="Page_173" id="Page_173"></a> whom no simplicity is barren. There are not only stately pines, but fragile flowers, like the orchises, commonly described as too delicate for cultivation, which derive @@ -6144,13 +6057,13 @@ the king himself also, the lord of creation,—not for idle sport or food, but for inspiration and our own true recreation? or shall we, like the villains, grub them all up, poaching on our own national domains? -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">174</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_174" id="Page_174"></a></p> </div><!--end chapter--> <div class="chapter"> -<h2>THE ALLEGASH AND EAST BRANCH</h2> +<h2><a name="chap03"></a>THE ALLEGASH AND EAST BRANCH</h2> <p><span class="b15">I</span> started on my third excursion to the Maine woods Monday, July 20, 1857, with one companion, arriving @@ -6179,7 +6092,7 @@ yard. The skin was spread over a slanting log, and he 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, perfect Indian -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">175</a></span> +<a name="Page_175" id="Page_175"></a> 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 @@ -6213,7 +6126,7 @@ was known to be particularly steady and trustworthy.</p> <p>I spent the afternoon with my companion, who had remained in Bangor, in preparing for our expedition, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">176</a></span> +<a name="Page_176" id="Page_176"></a> purchasing provisions, hard-bread, pork, coffee, sugar, etc., and some india-rubber clothing.</p> @@ -6248,7 +6161,7 @@ as it would hold, and we had two large india-rubber bags which held our provision and utensils. As for the Indian, all the baggage he had, beside his axe and gun, was a blanket, which he brought loose in his hand. However, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">177</a></span> +<a name="Page_177" id="Page_177"></a> he had laid in a store of tobacco and a new pipe for the excursion. The canoe was securely lashed diagonally across the top of the stage, with bits of carpet tucked @@ -6281,7 +6194,7 @@ half an hour the man returned, leading the dog by a rope. He had overtaken him just as he was entering the Bangor House. He was then tied on the top of the stage, but being wet and cold, several times in the course of the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">178</a></span> +<a name="Page_178" id="Page_178"></a> journey he jumped off, and I saw him dangling by his neck. This dog was depended on to stop bears with. He had already stopped one somewhere in New Hampshire, @@ -6314,7 +6227,7 @@ thirty years old, of good height, but not apparently robust, of gentlemanly address and faultless toilet; such a one as you might expect to meet on Broadway. In fact, in the popular sense of the word, he was the most “gentlemanly” -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">179</a></span> +<a name="Page_179" id="Page_179"></a> appearing man in the stage, or that we saw on the road. He had a fair white complexion, as if he had always lived in the shade, and an intellectual face, @@ -6347,7 +6260,7 @@ new or uncommon in those parts; that the caribou, for instance, fed round and round the same meadow, returning on the same path, and he lay in wait for them. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">180</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_180" id="Page_180"></a></p> <p>The Indian sat on the front seat, saying nothing to anybody, with a stolid expression of face, as if barely @@ -6381,7 +6294,7 @@ loungers along the road. By the roadside, close to the wheels, I noticed a splendid great purple fringed orchis with a spike as big as an epilobium, which I would fain have stopped the stage to pluck, but as this had never -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">181</a></span> +<a name="Page_181" id="Page_181"></a> been known to stop a bear, like the cur on the stage, the driver would probably have thought it a waste of time.</p> @@ -6416,7 +6329,7 @@ newness, as well as stanchness and solidity, it being made of very thick bark and ribs. Our baggage weighed about 166 pounds, so that the canoe carried about 600 pounds in all, or the weight of four men. The -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">182</a></span> +<a name="Page_182" id="Page_182"></a> principal part of the baggage was, as usual, placed in the middle of the broadest part, while we stowed ourselves in the chinks and crannies that were left before @@ -6450,7 +6363,7 @@ strangely as stage-passengers and tavern-lodgers were suddenly naturalized there and presented with the freedom of the lakes and the woods. Having passed the small rocky isles within two or three miles of the foot of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">183</a></span> +<a name="Page_183" id="Page_183"></a> the lake, we had a short consultation respecting our course, and inclined to the western shore for the sake of its lee; for otherwise, if the wind should rise, it would be @@ -6484,7 +6397,7 @@ stopped to breakfast on the main shore, southwest of Deer Island, at a spot where the <i>Mimulus ringens</i> grew abundantly. We took out our bags, and the Indian made a fire under a very large bleached log, using white pine -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">184</a></span> +<a name="Page_184" id="Page_184"></a> bark from a stump, though he said that hemlock was better, and kindling with canoe birch bark. Our table was a large piece of freshly peeled birch bark, laid @@ -6518,7 +6431,7 @@ weather, and we had already penetrated a smaller bay of the same kind, and knocked the bottom out of it, though we had been obliged to pass over a small bar, between an island and the shore, where there was but -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">185</a></span> +<a name="Page_185" id="Page_185"></a> just breadth and depth enough to float the canoe, and the Indian had observed, “Very easy makum bridge here,” but now it seemed that, if we held on, we should @@ -6557,7 +6470,7 @@ canoe. So say old times.”</p> bows, that they might be at hand when wanted, and set out again. The western shore, near which we paddled along, rose gently to a considerable height, and was -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">186</a></span> +<a name="Page_186" id="Page_186"></a> everywhere densely covered with the forest, in which was a large proportion of hard wood to enliven and relieve the fir and spruce.</p> @@ -6592,7 +6505,7 @@ Ducks of various kinds—sheldrake, summer ducks, etc.—were quite common, and ran over the water before us as fast as a horse trots. Thus they were soon out of sight. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">187</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_187" id="Page_187"></a></p> <p>The Indian asked the meaning of <i>reality</i>, as near as I could make out the word, which he said one of us had @@ -6627,7 +6540,7 @@ peculiar guttural sound, and said that it meant “deadwater,” which it is, and in this definition he agreed exactly with the St. Francis Indian with whom I talked in 1853. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">188</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_188" id="Page_188"></a></p> <p>On a point on the mainland some miles southwest of Sand-bar Island, where we landed to stretch our legs @@ -6662,7 +6575,7 @@ Greenville, far east in the middle of the lake, and she appeared nearly stationary. Sometimes we could hardly tell her from an island which had a few trees on it. Here we were exposed to the wind from over the whole -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">189</a></span> +<a name="Page_189" id="Page_189"></a> breadth of the lake, and ran a little risk of being swamped. While I had my eye fixed on the spot where a large fish had leaped, we took in a gallon or two of water, which @@ -6695,7 +6608,7 @@ canoe again when it is upset. Since you sit flat on the bottom, though the danger should not be imminent, a little water is a great inconvenience, not to mention the wetting of your provisions. We rarely crossed even a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">190</a></span> +<a name="Page_190" id="Page_190"></a> bay directly, from point to point, when there was wind, but made a slight curve corresponding somewhat to the shore, that we might the sooner reach it if the wind @@ -6732,7 +6645,7 @@ calf was killed somewhere among the islands in Penobscot Bay, and, to his eyes, this mountain had still the form of the moose in a reclining posture, its precipitous side presenting the outline of her head. He told this at -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">191</a></span> +<a name="Page_191" id="Page_191"></a> some length, though it did not amount to much, and with apparent good faith, and asked us how we supposed the hunter could have killed such a mighty moose @@ -6766,7 +6679,7 @@ our bed, the fire being four or five feet in front, though it made no odds how rough the hearth was; but it was not always easy to find this in those woods. The Indian first cleared a path to it from the shore with his axe, and we -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">192</a></span> +<a name="Page_192" id="Page_192"></a> then carried up all our baggage, pitched our tent, and made our bed, in order to be ready for foul weather, which then threatened us, and for the night. He gathered @@ -6800,7 +6713,7 @@ somewhere above Oldtown, besides some about his house; that he hired a good deal of his work, hoeing, etc., and preferred white men to Indians, because “they keep steady, and know how.” -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">193</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_193" id="Page_193"></a></p> <p>After dinner we returned southward along the shore, in the canoe, on account of the difficulty of climbing @@ -6834,7 +6747,7 @@ gleam, for the rain was not quite over.</p> <p>Looking southward, the heavens were completely overcast, the mountains capped with clouds, and the lake generally wore a dark and stormy appearance, but -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">194</a></span> +<a name="Page_194" id="Page_194"></a> from its surface just north of Sugar Island, six or eight miles distant, there was reflected upward to us through the misty air a bright blue tinge from the distant unseen @@ -6869,7 +6782,7 @@ largest mass of this stone known in the world is Mount Kineo, upon Moosehead Lake, which appears to be entirely composed of it, and rises seven hundred feet above the lake level. This variety of hornstone I have -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">195</a></span> +<a name="Page_195" id="Page_195"></a> seen in every part of New England in the form of Indian arrowheads, hatchets, chisels, etc., which were probably obtained from this mountain by the aboriginal @@ -6908,7 +6821,7 @@ tridentata</i>), abundant and in bloom still at the very base, by the waterside, though it is usually confined to the summits of mountains in our latitude; very beautiful harebells overhanging the precipice; bear-berry; the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">196</a></span> +<a name="Page_196" id="Page_196"></a> Canada blueberry (<i>Vaccinium Canadense</i>), similar to the <i>V. Pennsylvanicum</i>, our earliest one, but entire-leaved and with a downy stem and leaf (I have not seen @@ -6941,7 +6854,7 @@ damp and rotten hard wood to smoulder and keep fire through the night. The trout was fried for supper. Our tent was of thin cotton cloth and quite small, forming with the ground a triangular prism closed at the rear end, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">197</a></span> +<a name="Page_197" id="Page_197"></a> six feet long, seven wide, and four high, so that we could barely sit up in the middle. It required two forked stakes, a smooth ridge-pole, and a dozen or more pins @@ -6975,7 +6888,7 @@ his blanket wrapped around him, he commenced a slow, somewhat nasal, yet musical chant, in his own language, which probably was taught his tribe long ago by the Catholic missionaries. He translated it to us, sentence -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">198</a></span> +<a name="Page_198" id="Page_198"></a> by sentence, afterward, wishing to see if we could remember it. It proved to be a very simple religious exercise or hymn, the burden of which was, that there was only @@ -7009,7 +6922,7 @@ to one quarter of an inch wide. It was fully as bright as the fire, but not reddish or scarlet, like a coal, but a white and slumbering light, like the glow-worm’s. I could tell it from the fire only by its whiteness. I saw at -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">199</a></span> +<a name="Page_199" id="Page_199"></a> once that it must be phosphorescent wood, which I had so often heard of, but never chanced to see. Putting my finger on it, with a little hesitation, I found that it was @@ -7043,7 +6956,7 @@ wet weather undoubtedly had.</p> <p>I was exceedingly interested by this phenomenon, and already felt paid for my journey. It could hardly have thrilled me more if it had taken the form of letters, or -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">200</a></span> +<a name="Page_200" id="Page_200"></a> of the human face. If I had met with this ring of light while groping in this forest alone, away from any fire, I should have been still more surprised. I little thought @@ -7077,7 +6990,7 @@ would have been altogether out of place there. That is for pale daylight. Science with its retorts would have put me to sleep; it was the opportunity to be ignorant that I improved. It suggested to me that there was -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">201</a></span> +<a name="Page_201" id="Page_201"></a> something to be seen if one had eyes. It made a believer of me more than before. I believed that the woods were not tenantless, but choke-full of honest spirits as good @@ -7113,7 +7026,7 @@ asked me how I spent the Sunday when at home. I told him that I commonly sat in my chamber reading, etc., in the forenoon, and went to walk in the afternoon. At which he shook his head and said, “Er, that is ver bad.” -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">202</a></span> +<a name="Page_202" id="Page_202"></a> “How do you spend it?” I asked. He said that he did no work, that he went to church at Oldtown when he was at home; in short, he did as he had been taught by @@ -7147,7 +7060,7 @@ had not drawn our attention to it. It was a remarkable kind of light to steer for,—daylight seen through a vista in the forest,—but visible as far as an ordinary beacon at night. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">203</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_203" id="Page_203"></a></p> <p>We crossed a deep and wide bay which makes eastward north of Kineo, leaving an island on our left, and @@ -7182,7 +7095,7 @@ mountains, with their great wooded slopes, were visible; where, as man is not, we suppose some other power to be. My imagination personified the slopes themselves, as if by their very length they would -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">204</a></span> +<a name="Page_204" id="Page_204"></a> waylay you, and compel you to camp again on them before night. Some invisible glutton would seem to drop from the trees and gnaw at the heart of the solitary @@ -7215,7 +7128,7 @@ a moose all the forenoon, round and round, till middle of afternoon, when we kill him. Then I said to him, ‘Now you go straight to camp. Don’t go round and round where we’ve been, but go straight.’ He said, ‘I -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">205</a></span> +<a name="Page_205" id="Page_205"></a> can’t do that, I don’t know where I am.’ ‘Where you think camp?’ I asked. He pointed so. Then I laugh at him. I take the lead and go right off the other way, @@ -7250,7 +7163,7 @@ the echo from over it.</p> <p>The course we took over this lake, and others afterward, was rarely direct, but a succession of curves from -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">206</a></span> +<a name="Page_206" id="Page_206"></a> point to point, digressing considerably into each of the bays; and this was not merely on account of the wind, for the Indian, looking toward the middle of the lake, @@ -7283,7 +7196,7 @@ the canoe as it would, but turned it quickly from this side to that, so that it would always be on or near the crest of a wave when it broke, where all its force was spent, and we merely settled down with it. At length I -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">207</a></span> +<a name="Page_207" id="Page_207"></a> jumped out on to the end of the pier, against which the waves were dashing violently, in order to lighten the canoe, and catch it at the landing, which was not much @@ -7317,7 +7230,7 @@ I should like to hear of it. A cedar tree furnished all the gear in this case, as it had the woodwork of the canoe. One of the paddles rested on the cross-bars in the bows. I took the canoe upon my head and found that I could -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">208</a></span> +<a name="Page_208" id="Page_208"></a> carry it with ease, though the straps were not fitted to my shoulders; but I let him carry it, not caring to establish a different precedent, though he said that if I would @@ -7352,7 +7265,7 @@ first as if it were in a bower rather than a pen.</p> <p>Our Indian said that <i>he</i> used <i>black</i> spruce roots to sew canoes with, obtaining it from high lands or mountains. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">209</a></span> +<a name="Page_209" id="Page_209"></a> The St. Francis Indian thought that <i>white</i> spruce roots might be best. But the former said, “No good, break, can’t split ’em;” also that they were hard to get, deep @@ -7386,7 +7299,7 @@ like raw green corn on the ear.</p> <p>When we had gone about three miles down the Penobscot, we saw through the tree-tops a thunder-shower -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">210</a></span> +<a name="Page_210" id="Page_210"></a> coming up in the west, and we looked out a camping-place in good season, about five o’clock, on the west side, not far below the mouth of what Joe Aitteon, @@ -7419,7 +7332,7 @@ commonly, on which side this is, because there is little or no wind in so dense a wood at that season; and then he gets a kettle of water from the river, and takes out the pork, bread, coffee, etc., from their several packages. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">211</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_211" id="Page_211"></a></p> <p>Another, meanwhile, having the axe, cuts down the nearest dead rock maple or other dry hard wood, collecting @@ -7454,7 +7367,7 @@ head into the smoke, to avoid the mosquitoes.</p> donned by those who have them, and we hastily examine and dry our plants, anoint our faces and hands, and go to bed—and—the mosquitoes. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">212</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_212" id="Page_212"></a></p> <p>Though you have nothing to do but see the country, there’s rarely any time to spare, hardly enough to examine @@ -7491,7 +7404,7 @@ stream in vain. So, leaving the Indian, we took the canoe just before dark, and dropped down the river a few rods to fish at the mouth of a sluggish brook on the opposite side. We pushed up this a rod or two, where, perhaps, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">213</a></span> +<a name="Page_213" id="Page_213"></a> only a canoe had been before. But though there were a few small fishes, mostly chivin, there, we were soon driven off by the mosquitoes. While there we heard the @@ -7527,7 +7440,7 @@ and they were proportionally numerous and musical about Bangor. They evidently breed in that State. Though commonly unseen, their simple <i>ah, te-te-te, te-te-te, te-te-te</i>, so sharp and piercing, was as distinct to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">214</a></span> +<a name="Page_214" id="Page_214"></a> the ear as the passage of a spark of fire shot into the darkest of the forest would be to the eye. I thought that they commonly uttered it as they flew. I hear this note @@ -7561,7 +7474,7 @@ like church. Oh, ver good men.” “One day,” said he, the water, drowned good while, all ready fall to pieces. They go right ashore,—stop there, go no farther that day,—they have meeting there, preach and pray just -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">215</a></span> +<a name="Page_215" id="Page_215"></a> like Sunday. Then they get poles and lift up the body, and they go back and carry the body with them. Oh, they ver good men.”</p> @@ -7597,7 +7510,7 @@ a mile or two below it, the Indian called <i>Beskabekukskishtuk</i>, from the lake <i>Beskabekuk</i>, which empties in above. This deadwater, he said, was “a great place for moose always.” We saw the grass bent where a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">216</a></span> +<a name="Page_216" id="Page_216"></a> moose came out the night before, and the Indian said that he could smell one as far as he could see him; but, he added, that if he should see five or six to-day @@ -7631,7 +7544,7 @@ a batteau, and a third clung to a rock all night, and was taken off in the morning. There were magnificent great purple fringed orchises on this carry and the neighboring shores. I measured the largest canoe birch which I saw -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">217</a></span> +<a name="Page_217" id="Page_217"></a> in this journey near the end of the carry. It was 14½ feet in circumference at two feet from the ground, but at five feet divided into three parts. The canoe birches @@ -7665,7 +7578,7 @@ about himself. It appeared that he had represented his tribe at Augusta, and also once at Washington, where he had met some Western chiefs. He had been consulted at Augusta, and gave advice, which he -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">218</a></span> +<a name="Page_218" id="Page_218"></a> said was followed, respecting the eastern boundary of Maine, as determined by highlands and streams, at the time of the difficulties on that side. He was employed with @@ -7699,7 +7612,7 @@ seen over its extremity. It is an agreeable change to cross a lake, after you have been shut up in the woods, not only on account of the greater expanse of water, but also of sky. It is one of the surprises which Nature has in -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">219</a></span> +<a name="Page_219" id="Page_219"></a> store for the traveler in the forest. To look down, in this case, over eighteen miles of water, was liberating and civilizing even. No doubt, the short distance to which @@ -7732,7 +7645,7 @@ thither. The latter river, judging from the map, is the longer and principal stream, and, therefore, its name must prevail below the junction. So quickly we changed the civilizing sky of Chesuncook for the dark wood of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">220</a></span> +<a name="Page_220" id="Page_220"></a> the Caucomgomoc. On reaching the Indian’s camping-ground, on the south side, where the bank was about a dozen feet high, I read on the trunk of a fir tree, blazed @@ -7802,7 +7715,7 @@ July 26<br /> July 26<br /> Jo. Polis</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">221</a></span></p> +<p><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221"></a></p> <p class="p2">This was one of his homes. I saw where he had sometimes stretched his moose-hides on the opposite or @@ -7837,7 +7750,7 @@ difference whether you sat or lay nearer the settlements, or farther off, than your companions,—were the rear or frontier man of the camp. But there is really the same difference between our positions wherever we may be -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">222</a></span> +<a name="Page_222" id="Page_222"></a> camped, and some are nearer the frontiers on feather-beds in the towns than others on fir twigs in the backwoods.</p> @@ -7871,7 +7784,7 @@ white men would have blundered several times.</p> <p>This river came from Caucomgomoc Lake, about ten miles farther up. Though it was sluggish here, there were falls not far above us, and we saw the foam from -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">223</a></span> +<a name="Page_223" id="Page_223"></a> them go by from time to time. The Indian said that <i>Caucomgomoc</i> meant Big-Gull Lake (<i>i. e.</i>, herring gull, I suppose), gomoc meaning lake. Hence this was <i>Caucomgomoctook</i>, @@ -7905,7 +7818,7 @@ home there. Its leaves, disposed commonly in triangles about its stem, were just as handsomely formed and green, and its berries as blue and glossy, as if it grew by some botanist’s favorite path. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">224</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_224" id="Page_224"></a></p> <p>I could trace the outlines of large birches that had fallen long ago, collapsed and rotted and turned to soil, @@ -7942,7 +7855,7 @@ in my flower-book; thinking it would be good to separate the dried specimens from the green.</p> <p>My companion, wishing to distinguish between the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">225</a></span> +<a name="Page_225" id="Page_225"></a> black and white spruce, asked Polis to show him a twig of the latter, which he did at once, together with the black; indeed, he could distinguish them about as far @@ -7975,7 +7888,7 @@ humored by bending short with this hand or that, and so kept in the middle. He then took off the bark from each half, pressing a short piece of cedar bark against the convex side with both hands, while he drew -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">226</a></span> +<a name="Page_226" id="Page_226"></a> the root upward with his teeth. An Indian’s teeth are strong, and I noticed that he used his often where we should have used a hand. They amounted to a third @@ -8009,7 +7922,7 @@ the pioneers used for their canoe “the turpentine of the pine, and the scrapings of the pork-bag.”</p> <p>Being curious to see what kind of fishes there were -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">227</a></span> +<a name="Page_227" id="Page_227"></a> in this dark, deep, sluggish river, I cast in my line just before night, and caught several small somewhat yellowish sucker-like fishes, which the Indian at once rejected, @@ -8042,7 +7955,7 @@ and that it might well be dried, and sold in the shops. I, for one, however, am not an old tea-drinker, and cannot speak with authority to others. It would have been particularly good to carry along for a cold drink during the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">228</a></span> +<a name="Page_228" id="Page_228"></a> day, the water thereabouts being invariably warm. The Indian said that they also used for tea a certain herb which grew in low ground, which he did not find there, @@ -8075,7 +7988,7 @@ 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. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">229</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_229" id="Page_229"></a></p> <p>The Indian said a particularly long prayer this Sunday evening, as if to atone for working in the morning.</p> @@ -8113,7 +8026,7 @@ stolonifera</i>), its large fruit now whitish.</p> nighthawks circling over the meadow, and as usual heard the pepe (<i>Muscicapa Cooperi</i>), which is one of the prevailing birds in these woods, and the robin. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">230</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_230" id="Page_230"></a></p> <p>It was unusual for the woods to be so distant from the shore, and there was quite an echo from them, but when @@ -8149,7 +8062,7 @@ triflorus</i> with ripe fruit.</p> <p>While we were thus employed, two Indians in a canoe hove in sight round the bushes, coming down stream. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">231</a></span> +<a name="Page_231" id="Page_231"></a> Our Indian knew one of them, an old man, and fell into conversation with him in Indian. He belonged at the foot of Moosehead. The other was of another tribe. @@ -8182,7 +8095,7 @@ of them. The same is the case with the white and red pines, and some other trees, greatly to the convenience of the lumberer. They are of a social habit, growing in “veins,” “clumps,” “groups,” or “communities,” as -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">232</a></span> +<a name="Page_232" id="Page_232"></a> the explorers call them, distinguishing them far away, from the top of a hill or a tree, the white pines towering above the surrounding forest, or else they form extensive @@ -8218,7 +8131,7 @@ upon. He said it was a sign that I was going to be married.</p> <p>The Umbazookskus River is called ten miles long. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">233</a></span> +<a name="Page_233" id="Page_233"></a> Having poled up the narrowest part some three or four miles, the next opening in the sky was over Umbazookskus Lake, which we suddenly entered about eleven @@ -8253,7 +8166,7 @@ map, you might expect it to be the highest.</p> <p>Mud Pond is about halfway from Umbazookskus to Chamberlain Lake, into which it empties, and to which we were bound. The Indian said that this was the wettest -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">234</a></span> +<a name="Page_234" id="Page_234"></a> carry in the State, and as the season was a very wet one, we anticipated an unpleasant walk. As usual he made one large bundle of the pork-keg, cooking-utensils, @@ -8287,7 +8200,7 @@ the white hunter whom I met in the stage, as he told me, had shot two bears a few months before. They stood directly in the path, and did not turn out for him. They might be excused for not turning out there, or only taking -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">235</a></span> +<a name="Page_235" id="Page_235"></a> the right as the law directs. He said that at this season bears were found on the mountains and hillsides in search of berries, and were apt to be saucy,—that @@ -8322,7 +8235,7 @@ we were on, by which lumberers had been to pick out those pines which I have mentioned. However, we kept what we considered the main path, though it was a winding one, and in this, at long intervals, we distinguished a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">236</a></span> +<a name="Page_236" id="Page_236"></a> faint trace of a footstep. This, though comparatively unworn, was at first a better, or, at least, a drier road than the regular carry which we had left. It led through @@ -8355,7 +8268,7 @@ bloody stories about them,—how they settle in a ring about your neck, before you know it, and are wiped off in great numbers with your blood. But remembering that I had a wash in my knapsack, prepared by a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">237</a></span> +<a name="Page_237" id="Page_237"></a> thoughtful hand in Bangor, I made haste to apply it to my face and hands, and was glad to find it effectual, as long as it was fresh, or for twenty minutes, not only @@ -8390,7 +8303,7 @@ and I then took the bearing by my compass.</p> <p>My companion having returned with his bag, and also defended his face and hands with the insect-wash, we set -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">238</a></span> +<a name="Page_238" id="Page_238"></a> forward again. The walking rapidly grew worse, and the path more indistinct, and at length, after passing through a patch of <i>Calla palustris</i>, still abundantly in bloom, @@ -8422,7 +8335,7 @@ of the northeast boundary dispute, and I observed by my map, that the line claimed by Great Britain as the boundary prior to 1842 passed between Umbazookskus Lake and Mud Pond, so that we had either crossed or -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">239</a></span> +<a name="Page_239" id="Page_239"></a> were then on it. These, then, according to <i>her</i> interpretation of the treaty of ’83, were the “highlands which divide those rivers that empty themselves into the @@ -8456,7 +8369,7 @@ had undoubtedly taken the supply road to Chamberlain Lake (slender supplies they would get over such a road at this season). The Indian was greatly surprised that we should have taken what he called a “tow” (<i>i. e.</i>, tote -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">240</a></span> +<a name="Page_240" id="Page_240"></a> or toting or supply) road, instead of a carry path,—that we had not followed his tracks,—said it was “strange,” and evidently thought little of our woodcraft.</p> @@ -8490,7 +8403,7 @@ in all the low ground, where it was not too wet, the <i>Rubus triflorus</i> in fruit. At one place I heard a very clear and piercing note from a small hawk, like a single note from a white-throated sparrow, only very much louder, as he -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">241</a></span> +<a name="Page_241" id="Page_241"></a> dashed through the tree-tops over my head. I wondered that he allowed himself to be disturbed by our presence, since it seemed as if he could not easily find his nest @@ -8523,7 +8436,7 @@ cedar-top, and spring his rattle again.</p> <p>We then entered another swamp, at a necessarily slow pace, where the walking was worse than ever, not only on account of the water, but the fallen timber, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">242</a></span> +<a name="Page_242" id="Page_242"></a> which often obliterated the indistinct trail entirely. The fallen trees were so numerous, that for long distances the route was through a succession of small yards, where we @@ -8556,7 +8469,7 @@ wildernesses.</p> This was the most perfectly swamped of all the roads I ever saw. Nature must have cooperated with art here. However, I suppose they would tell you that this name -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">243</a></span> +<a name="Page_243" id="Page_243"></a> took its origin from the fact that the chief work of roadmakers in those woods is to make the swamps passable. We came to a stream where the bridge, which had been @@ -8590,7 +8503,7 @@ and send the latter back to carry my companion’s bag.</p> 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 -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">244</a></span> +<a name="Page_244" id="Page_244"></a> lake, after crossing Mud Pond, and running some rapids below 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 @@ -8623,7 +8536,7 @@ or Chamberlain Lake, west of the outlet of Mud Pond, where there was a broad, gravelly, and rocky shore, encumbered with bleached logs and trees. We were rejoiced to see such dry things in that part of the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">245</a></span> +<a name="Page_245" id="Page_245"></a> world. But at first we did not attend to dryness so much as to mud and wetness. We all three walked into the lake up to our middle to wash our clothes.</p> @@ -8658,7 +8571,7 @@ no-see-em (<i>Simulium nocivum</i>,—the latter word is not the Latin for no-see-em), especially over the sand at the water’s edge, for it is a kind of sand-fly. You would not observe them but for their light-colored wings. They are -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">246</a></span> +<a name="Page_246" id="Page_246"></a> said to get under your clothes, and produce a feverish heat, which I suppose was what I felt that night.</p> @@ -8693,7 +8606,7 @@ blanket about his face, and for the same purpose he lit his pipe and breathed the smoke into his blanket.</p> <p>As we lay thus on the shore, with nothing between us -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">247</a></span> +<a name="Page_247" id="Page_247"></a> and the stars, I inquired what stars he was acquainted with, or had names for. They were the Great Bear, which he called by this name, the Seven Stars, which he @@ -8726,7 +8639,7 @@ Some friends of mine, who two years ago went up the Caucomgomoc River, were serenaded by wolves while moose-hunting by moonlight. It was a sudden burst, as if a hundred demons had broke loose,—a startling -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">248</a></span> +<a name="Page_248" id="Page_248"></a> sound enough, which, if any, would make your hair stand on end, and all was still again. It lasted but a moment, and you’d have thought there were twenty of @@ -8763,7 +8676,7 @@ half-clad body to the fire, I sought slumber again.</p> <p>When we awoke, we found a heavy dew on our blankets. I lay awake very early, and listened to the clear, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">249</a></span> +<a name="Page_249" id="Page_249"></a> shrill <i>ah, te te, te te, te</i> of the white-throated sparrow, repeated at short intervals, without the least variation, for half an hour, as if it could not enough express its @@ -8798,7 +8711,7 @@ a sail or knapsack, if wanted, and strapping on his belt, which contained a large sheath-knife, he walked off at once, ready to be gone all summer. This looked very independent; a few simple and effective tools, and no -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">250</a></span> +<a name="Page_250" id="Page_250"></a> india-rubber clothing. He was always the first ready to start in the morning, and if it had not held some of our property, would not have been obliged to roll up his @@ -8831,7 +8744,7 @@ go there. We did not intend to go far down the Allegash, but merely to get a view of the great lakes which are its source, and then return this way to the East Branch of the Penobscot. The water now, by good -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">251</a></span> +<a name="Page_251" id="Page_251"></a> rights, flowed northward, if it could be said to flow at all.</p> <p>After reaching the middle of the lake, we found the @@ -8866,7 +8779,7 @@ dam. The reader will perceive that the result of this particular damming about Chamberlain Lake is, that the head-waters of the St. John are made to flow by Bangor. They have thus dammed all the larger lakes, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">252</a></span> +<a name="Page_252" id="Page_252"></a> raising their broad surfaces many feet; Moosehead, for instance, some forty miles long, with its steamer on it; thus turning the forces of nature against herself, that @@ -8899,7 +8812,7 @@ place for him to get into, just as a worm might. When the chopper would praise a pine, he will commonly tell you that the one he cut was so big that a yoke of oxen stood on its stump; as if that were what the pine had -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">253</a></span> +<a name="Page_253" id="Page_253"></a> grown for, to become the footstool of oxen. In my mind’s eye, I can see these unwieldy tame deer, with a yoke binding them together, and brazen-tipped horns @@ -8933,7 +8846,7 @@ ignorantly erases mythological tablets in order to print his handbills and town-meeting warrants on them. Before he has learned his a b c in the beautiful but mystic lore of the wilderness which Spenser and Dante -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">254</a></span> +<a name="Page_254" id="Page_254"></a> had just begun to read, he cuts it down, coins a <i>pine-tree</i> shilling (as if to signify the pine’s value to him), puts up a <i>dee</i>strict schoolhouse, and introduces Webster’s @@ -8969,7 +8882,7 @@ side, and saw a dark mountain northeast over the lake, not very far off nor high, which the Indian said was called Peaked Mountain, and used by explorers to look for timber from. There was also some other high land -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">255</a></span> +<a name="Page_255" id="Page_255"></a> more easterly. The shores were in the same ragged and unsightly condition, encumbered with dead timber, both fallen and standing, as in the last lake, owing to the dam @@ -9004,7 +8917,7 @@ serve to distinguish a large lake from a small one.</p> <p>We landed on the southeast side of the island, which was rather elevated and densely wooded, with a rocky -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">256</a></span> +<a name="Page_256" id="Page_256"></a> shore, in season for an early dinner. Somebody had camped there not long before, and left the frame on which they stretched a moose-hide, which our Indian @@ -9037,7 +8950,7 @@ into Eel River to save a bend below Woodstock in New Brunswick, and so into the Schoodic Lake, and thence to the Mattawamkeag. It would be about three hundred and sixty miles to Bangor this way, though only about -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">257</a></span> +<a name="Page_257" id="Page_257"></a> one hundred and sixty by the other; but in the former case we should explore the St. John from its source through two thirds of its course, as well as the Schoodic @@ -9071,7 +8984,7 @@ on it; but we learned afterward that it was not inhabited, had only been used as a pasture for cattle which summered in these woods, though our informant said that there was a hut on the mainland near the outlet -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">258</a></span> +<a name="Page_258" id="Page_258"></a> of the lake. This unnaturally smooth-shaven, squarish spot, in the midst of the otherwise uninterrupted forest, only reminded us how uninhabited the country was. @@ -9105,7 +9018,7 @@ and we took the canoe out to prevent its drifting away. We did not know but we should be compelled to spend the rest of the day and the night there. At any rate, the Indian went to sleep again in the shade of his birch, my -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">259</a></span> +<a name="Page_259" id="Page_259"></a> companion busied himself drying his plants, and I rambled along the shore westward, which was quite stony, and obstructed with fallen, bleached, or drifted @@ -9140,7 +9053,7 @@ he sees that he scared.”</p> <p>Pointing southeasterly over the lake and distant forest, he observed, “Me go Oldtown in three days.” I -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">260</a></span> +<a name="Page_260" id="Page_260"></a> asked how he would get over the swamps and fallen trees. “Oh,” said he, “in winter all covered, go anywhere on snowshoes, right across lakes.” When I asked @@ -9173,7 +9086,7 @@ of arrows and of spears to the ancients, when weapons of stone were used. Seeing and hearing moose, caribou, bears, porcupines, lynxes, wolves, and panthers. Places where he might live and die and never hear of the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">261</a></span> +<a name="Page_261" id="Page_261"></a> United States, which make such a noise in the world,—never hear of America, so called from the name of a European gentleman.</p> @@ -9208,7 +9121,7 @@ leaked considerably about the sides, with our baggage at our feet, we listened to some of the grandest thunder which I ever heard,—rapid peals, round and plump, bang, bang, bang, in succession, like artillery from some -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">262</a></span> +<a name="Page_262" id="Page_262"></a> fortress in the sky; and the lightning was proportionally brilliant. The Indian said, “It must be good powder.” All for the benefit of the moose and us, echoing far over @@ -9243,7 +9156,7 @@ were more scared than wet. From my covert I could see the Indian peeping out from beneath his canoe to see what had become of the rain. When we had taken our respective places thus once or twice, the rain not coming -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">263</a></span> +<a name="Page_263" id="Page_263"></a> down in earnest, we commenced rambling about the neighborhood, for the wind had by this time raised such waves on the lake that we could not stir, and we feared @@ -9276,7 +9189,7 @@ above or beneath the surface, and mingled with them were loose trees and limbs and stumps, beating about. Imagine the wharves of the largest city in the world, decayed, and the earth and planking washed away, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">264</a></span> +<a name="Page_264" id="Page_264"></a> leaving the spiles standing in loose order, but often of twice the ordinary height, and mingled with and beating against them the wreck of ten thousand navies, all their @@ -9309,7 +9222,7 @@ shut the dam at the canal there in order to catch trout, and if we wanted more water to take us through the canal, we might raise the gate, for he would like to have it raised. The Chamberlain Farm is no doubt a cheerful -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">265</a></span> +<a name="Page_265" id="Page_265"></a> opening in the woods, but such was the lateness of the hour that it has left but a dusky impression on my mind. As I have said, the influx of light merely is civilizing, @@ -9344,7 +9257,7 @@ mosquitoes.</p> at least in the summer, it is so easy to dry yourself, supposing a dry change of clothing is not to be had. You can much sooner dry you by such a fire as you can make -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">266</a></span> +<a name="Page_266" id="Page_266"></a> in the woods than in anybody’s kitchen, the fireplace is so much larger, and wood so much more abundant. A shed-shaped tent will catch and reflect the heat like a @@ -9380,7 +9293,7 @@ mercy of the wind, and a fickle power it is. The playful waves may at any time become too rude for you in their sport, and play right on over you. We saw a few <i>shecorways</i> and a fish hawk thus early, and after much steady -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">267</a></span> +<a name="Page_267" id="Page_267"></a> paddling and dancing over the dark waves of Apmoojenegamook, we found ourselves in the neighborhood of the southern land, heard the waves breaking on it, and @@ -9416,7 +9329,7 @@ on the map <i>Telasinis</i>, but the Indian had no distinct name for it, and thence into <i>Telos</i> Lake, which he called <i>Paytaywecomgomoc</i>, or Burnt-Ground Lake. This curved round toward the northeast, and may have been -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">268</a></span> +<a name="Page_268" id="Page_268"></a> three or four miles long as we paddled. He had not been here since 1825. He did not know what Telos meant; thought it was not Indian. He used the word “<i>spokelogan</i>” @@ -9450,7 +9363,7 @@ Yankee baker. These proved the property of a solitary hunter, whom we soon met, and canoe and gun and traps were not far off. He told us that it was twenty miles farther on our route to the foot of Grand Lake, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">269</a></span> +<a name="Page_269" id="Page_269"></a> where you could catch as many trout as you wanted, and that the first house below the foot of the lake, on the East Branch, was Hunt’s, about forty-five miles farther; @@ -9483,7 +9396,7 @@ without disturbing his human neighbors. How much more respectable also is the life of the solitary pioneer or settler in these, or any woods,—having real difficulties, not of his own creation, drawing his subsistence directly -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">270</a></span> +<a name="Page_270" id="Page_270"></a> from nature,—than that of the helpless multitudes in the towns who depend on gratifying the extremely artificial wants of society and are thrown out of employment @@ -9518,7 +9431,7 @@ winding that one could see but little way down.</p> <p>It is stated by Springer, in his “Forest Life,” that the cause of this canal being dug was this: according to the treaty of 1842 with Great Britain, it was agreed that all -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">271</a></span> +<a name="Page_271" id="Page_271"></a> the timber run down the St. John, which rises in Maine, “when within the Province of New Brunswick ... shall be dealt with as if it were the produce of the said @@ -9551,7 +9464,7 @@ numerous invitations and temptations to leave their native beds and run down their neighbors’ channels. Your carries are often over half-submerged ground, on the dry channels of a former period. In carrying from -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">272</a></span> +<a name="Page_272" id="Page_272"></a> one river to another, I did not go over such high and rocky ground as in going about the falls of the same river. For in the former case I was once lost in a swamp, @@ -9586,7 +9499,7 @@ the water for navigation.</p> rapid and rocky river. The Indian decided that there was water enough in it without raising the dam, which would only make it more violent, and that he -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">273</a></span> +<a name="Page_273" id="Page_273"></a> would run down it alone, while we carried the greater part of the baggage. Our provision being about half consumed, there was the less left in the canoe. We had @@ -9620,7 +9533,7 @@ bench before it, and above the table a small window, the only one there was, which admitted a feeble light. It was a simple and strong fort erected against the cold, and suggested what valiant trencher work had been done -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">274</a></span> +<a name="Page_274" id="Page_274"></a> there. I discovered one or two curious wooden traps, which had not been used for a long time, in the woods near by. The principal part consisted of a long and @@ -9654,7 +9567,7 @@ this route, was nearest right, as far as we were concerned. However, if one of us could have assisted the Indian in managing the canoe in the rapids, we might have run the greater part of the way; but as he was alone in the management -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">275</a></span> +<a name="Page_275" id="Page_275"></a> of the canoe in such places, we were obliged to walk the greater part. I did not feel quite ready to try such an experiment on Webster Stream, which has so @@ -9689,7 +9602,7 @@ utmost possible moderation, and often holding on, if you can, that you may inspect the rapids before you.</p> <p>By the Indian’s direction we took an old path on the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">276</a></span> +<a name="Page_276" id="Page_276"></a> south side, which appeared to keep down the stream, though at a considerable distance from it, cutting off bends, perhaps to Second Lake, having first taken the @@ -9721,7 +9634,7 @@ empty out what he had taken in. He complained that it strained him to paddle so hard in order to keep his canoe straight in its course, having no one in the bows to aid him, and, shallow as it was, said that it would be no joke -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">277</a></span> +<a name="Page_277" id="Page_277"></a> to upset there, for the force of the water was such that he had as lief I would strike him over the head with a paddle as have that water strike him. Seeing him come out @@ -9755,7 +9668,7 @@ to guide us, we could not have kept our course many minutes, and could have retraced our steps but a short distance, with a great deal of pains and very slowly, using a laborious circumspection. But it was evident -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">278</a></span> +<a name="Page_278" id="Page_278"></a> that he could go back through the forest wherever he had been during the day.</p> @@ -9789,7 +9702,7 @@ and then gently winding, down a mountain, indeed, between two evergreen forests, edged with lofty dead white pines, sometimes slanted half-way over the stream, and destined soon to bridge it. I saw some monsters -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">279</a></span> +<a name="Page_279" id="Page_279"></a> there, nearly destitute of branches, and scarcely diminishing in diameter for eighty or ninety feet.</p> @@ -9823,7 +9736,7 @@ suddenly terminated. The Indian went alongshore to inspect the water, while we climbed over the rocks, picking berries. The peculiar growth of blueberries on the tops of large rocks here made the impression of high -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">280</a></span> +<a name="Page_280" id="Page_280"></a> land, and indeed this was the Height-of-Land Stream. When the Indian came back, he remarked, “You got to walk; ver strong water.” So, taking out his canoe, he @@ -9857,7 +9770,7 @@ trees and bushes, and rocks, from time to time swinging ourselves round over the water, or else taking to a gravel bar or going inland. At one place, the Indian being ahead, I was obliged to take off all my clothes in order -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">281</a></span> +<a name="Page_281" id="Page_281"></a> to ford a small but deep stream emptying in, while my companion, who was inland, found a rude bridge, high up in the woods, and I saw no more of him for some @@ -9890,7 +9803,7 @@ in his canoe, and hallooing all the while that my companion might join me on the way. Before we came together I noticed where a moose, which possibly I had scared by my shouting, had apparently just run along a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">282</a></span> +<a name="Page_282" id="Page_282"></a> large rotten trunk of a pine, which made a bridge, thirty or forty feet long, over a hollow, as convenient for him as for me. The tracks were as large as those of an ox, @@ -9923,7 +9836,7 @@ rock hills, however much one might be in advance of another, I took out my compass and found that they lay northwest and southeast, the rock being on its edge, and sharp edges they were. This one, to speak from memory, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">283</a></span> +<a name="Page_283" id="Page_283"></a> was perhaps a third of a mile in length, but quite narrow, rising gradually from the northwest to the height of about eighty feet, but steep on the southeast end. The @@ -9956,7 +9869,7 @@ bad rapids on that side, and that that might be what he had beckoned to me for; but after waiting a while I could still see nothing of him, and I observed to my companion that I wondered where he was, though I began -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">284</a></span> +<a name="Page_284" id="Page_284"></a> to suspect that he had gone inland to look for the lake from some hilltop on that side, as we had done. This proved to be the case; for after I had started to return @@ -9989,7 +9902,7 @@ close together, the Indian behind us having launched his canoe again, but just then I saw the latter, who had crossed to our side, forty or fifty rods behind, beckoning to me, and I called to my companion, who had just disappeared -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">285</a></span> +<a name="Page_285" id="Page_285"></a> behind large rocks at the point of the precipice, three or four rods before me, on his way down the stream, that I was going to help the Indian a moment. @@ -10021,7 +9934,7 @@ alarmed about him, and I sent the Indian along the shore down-stream, which began to be covered with unburnt wood again just below the falls, while I searched backward about the precipice which we had passed. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">286</a></span> +<a name="Page_286" id="Page_286"></a> The Indian showed some unwillingness to exert himself, complaining that he was very tired, in consequence of his day’s work, that it had strained him very much @@ -10054,7 +9967,7 @@ the gun, saying that if my companion heard it, which was not likely, on account of the roar of the stream, it would tempt him to come toward us, and he might break his neck in the dark. For the same reason we refrained -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">287</a></span> +<a name="Page_287" id="Page_287"></a> from lighting a fire on the highest rock. I proposed that we should both keep down the stream to the lake, or that I should go at any rate, but the Indian said: “No @@ -10087,7 +10000,7 @@ stream, and it shook the earth under us. It was a cool, because dewy, night; the more so, probably, owing to the nearness of the falls. The Indian complained a good deal, and thought afterward that he got a cold there -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">288</a></span> +<a name="Page_288" id="Page_288"></a> which occasioned a more serious illness. We were not much troubled by mosquitoes at any rate. I lay awake a good deal from anxiety, but, unaccountably to myself, @@ -10123,7 +10036,7 @@ obliged first to carry our canoe and baggage over into another stream, the main East Branch, about three fourths of a mile distant, for Webster Stream was no farther navigable. We went twice over this carry, and the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">289</a></span> +<a name="Page_289" id="Page_289"></a> dewy bushes wet us through like water up to the middle; I hallooed in a high key from time to time, though I had little expectation that I could be heard over the roar @@ -10157,7 +10070,7 @@ assistance, did not see which way I went, and supposed that we were below and not above him, and so, making haste to catch up, he ran away from us. Having reached this clearing, a mile or more below our camp, the night -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">290</a></span> +<a name="Page_290" id="Page_290"></a> overtook him, and he made a fire in a little hollow, and lay down by it in his blanket, still thinking that we were ahead of him. He thought it likely that he had heard @@ -10192,7 +10105,7 @@ our clothes, we glided swiftly down the winding stream toward Second Lake.</p> <p>As the shores became flatter with frequent gravel and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">291</a></span> +<a name="Page_291" id="Page_291"></a> sand-bars, and the stream more winding in the lower land near the lake, elms and ash trees made their appearance; also the wild yellow lily (<i>Lilium Canadense</i>), some @@ -10224,7 +10137,7 @@ of the scene may have been enhanced to our eyes by the fact that we had just come together again after a night of some anxiety. This reminded me of the Ambejijis Lake on the West Branch, which I crossed in my first -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">292</a></span> +<a name="Page_292" id="Page_292"></a> coming to Maine. Having paddled down three quarters of the lake, we came to a standstill, while my companion let down for fish. A white (or whitish) gull sat on a rock @@ -10257,7 +10170,7 @@ much alarmed by our neighborhood, only occasionally turned her head and looked straight at us, and then gave her attention to the flies again. As we approached nearer she got out of the water, stood higher, and regarded us -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">293</a></span> +<a name="Page_293" id="Page_293"></a> more suspiciously. Polis pushed the canoe steadily forward in the shallow water, and I for a moment forgot the moose in attending to some pretty rose-colored @@ -10290,7 +10203,7 @@ goner!” and was surprised that we did not see her as soon as he did. There, to be sure, she lay perfectly dead, with her tongue hanging out, just where she had stood to receive the last shots, looking unexpectedly large and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">294</a></span> +<a name="Page_294" id="Page_294"></a> horse-like, and we saw where the bullets had scarred the trees.</p> @@ -10326,7 +10239,7 @@ The fishes were red perch and chivin.</p> <p>The Indian, having cut off a large piece of sirloin, the upper lip, and the tongue, wrapped them in the hide, and placed them in the bottom of the canoe, observing -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">295</a></span> +<a name="Page_295" id="Page_295"></a> that there was “one man,” meaning the weight of one. Our load had previously been reduced some thirty pounds, but a hundred pounds were now added,—a serious @@ -10361,7 +10274,7 @@ the Indian said, had something to do with mountains.</p> <p>We stopped to dine on an interesting high rocky island, soon after entering Matungamook Lake, securing -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">296</a></span> +<a name="Page_296" id="Page_296"></a> our canoe to the cliffy shore. It is always pleasant to step from a boat on to a large rock or cliff. Here was a good opportunity to dry our dewy blankets on the open sunny @@ -10394,7 +10307,7 @@ for their ancestors, and, indeed, we found here the point of an arrowhead, such as they have not used for two centuries and now know not how to make. The Indian, picking up a stone, remarked to me, “That very strange -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">297</a></span> +<a name="Page_297" id="Page_297"></a> lock (rock).” It was a piece of hornstone, which I told him his tribe had probably brought here centuries before to make arrowheads of. He also picked up a yellowish @@ -10428,7 +10341,7 @@ and more arable parts to him. The very sight of the <i>Nerlumskeechticook</i>, or Deadwater Mountains, a day’s journey off over the forest, as we first saw them, must awaken in him pleasing memories. And not less -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">298</a></span> +<a name="Page_298" id="Page_298"></a> interesting is it to the white traveler, when he is crossing a placid lake in these out-of-the-way woods, perhaps thinking that he is in some sense one of the earlier discoverers @@ -10461,7 +10374,7 @@ a small island, under the dark Nerlumskeechticook Mountain. For I had observed on my map that this was the course. It was three or four miles across it. It struck me that the outline of this mountain on the southwest -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">299</a></span> +<a name="Page_299" id="Page_299"></a> of the lake, and of another beyond it, was not only like that of the huge rock waves of Webster Stream, but in the main like Kineo, on Moosehead Lake, having a @@ -10502,7 +10415,7 @@ in the Concord.</p> <p>While we loitered here, Polis took occasion to cut with his big knife some of the hair from his moose-hide, and so lightened and prepared it for drying. I noticed -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">300</a></span> +<a name="Page_300" id="Page_300"></a> at several old Indian camps in the woods the pile of hair which they had cut from their hides.</p> @@ -10537,7 +10450,7 @@ have ample time before dark; so we stopped at the first favorable shore, where there was a narrow gravelly beach on the western side, some five miles below the outlet of the lake. It was an interesting spot, where the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">301</a></span> +<a name="Page_301" id="Page_301"></a> river began to make a great bend to the east, and the last of the peculiar moose-faced Nerlumskeechticook Mountains not far southwest of Grand Lake rose dark @@ -10571,7 +10484,7 @@ which covered the ground, dropping a little bunch of it tied up with cedar bark into the kettle; but it was not quite equal to the <i>Chiogenes</i>. We called this therefore Checkerberry-Tea Camp. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">302</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_302" id="Page_302"></a></p> <p>I was struck with the abundance of the <i>Linnæa borealis</i>, checkerberry, and <i>Chiogenes hispidula</i>, almost @@ -10606,7 +10519,7 @@ them. I also heard the sound of bullfrogs from a swamp on the opposite side, thinking at first that they were moose; a duck paddled swiftly by; and sitting in that dusky wilderness, under that dark mountain, by the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">303</a></span> +<a name="Page_303" id="Page_303"></a> bright river which was full of reflected light, still I heard the wood thrush sing, as if no higher civilization could be attained. By this time the night was upon us.</p> @@ -10639,7 +10552,7 @@ spruce which you fell is a plume plucked from night’s raven wing. Then at night the general stillness is more impressive than any sound, but occasionally you hear the note of an owl farther or nearer in the woods, and if -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">304</a></span> +<a name="Page_304" id="Page_304"></a> near a lake, the semihuman cry of the loons at their unearthly revels.</p> @@ -10676,7 +10589,7 @@ carry canoe and all about half a mile down the right bank, around some rapids or falls. It required sharp eyes sometimes to tell which side was the carry, before you went over the falls, but Polis never failed to land us -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">305</a></span> +<a name="Page_305" id="Page_305"></a> rightly. The raspberries were particularly abundant and large here, and all hands went to eating them, the Indian remarking on their size.</p> @@ -10712,7 +10625,7 @@ there had been none to gather the finest before us.</p> <p>In our three journeys over the carries,—for we were obliged to go over the ground three times whenever the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">306</a></span> +<a name="Page_306" id="Page_306"></a> canoe was taken out,—we did full justice to the berries, and they were just what we wanted to correct the effect of our hard bread and pork diet. Another name for making @@ -10744,7 +10657,7 @@ and in a half whisper, “Devil [that is, Indian Devil, or cougar]—ledges about here—very bad animal—pull ’em rocks all to pieces.” “How long since it was made?” I asked. “To-day or yesterday,” said he. But when I -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">307</a></span> +<a name="Page_307" id="Page_307"></a> asked him afterward if he was sure it was the devil’s track, he said he did not know. I had been told that the scream of a cougar was heard about Ktaadn recently, @@ -10777,7 +10690,7 @@ bank. They shouldered their furs and started for Oldtown. The snow was not deep enough for snowshoes, or to cover the inequalities of the ground. Polis was soon too weak to carry any burden; but he managed to catch -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">308</a></span> +<a name="Page_308" id="Page_308"></a> one otter. This was the most they all had to eat on this journey, and he remembered how good the yellow lily roots were, made into a soup with the otter oil. He @@ -10811,7 +10724,7 @@ such as I have described. Low, grassy banks and muddy shores began. Many elms, as well as maples, and more ash trees, overhung the stream, and supplanted the spruce. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">309</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_309" id="Page_309"></a></p> <p>My lily roots having been lost when the canoe was taken out at a carry, I landed late in the afternoon, at a @@ -10845,7 +10758,7 @@ meanwhile we passed the mouth of the Seboois on our left. This did not look so large as our stream, which was indeed the main one. It was some time before we found a camping-place, for the shore was either too grassy and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">310</a></span> +<a name="Page_310" id="Page_310"></a> muddy, where mosquitoes abounded, or too steep a hillside. The Indian said that there were but few mosquitoes on a steep hillside. We examined a good place, @@ -10878,7 +10791,7 @@ split stick three feet high, stuck it in the ground, turning the blazing end to the wind, and telling me to snuff it from time to time. It answered the purpose of a candle pretty well. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">311</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_311" id="Page_311"></a></p> <p>I noticed, as I had done before, that there was a lull among the mosquitoes about midnight, and that they @@ -10911,7 +10824,7 @@ even necessary for two of them to be employed in driving off these creatures while the third wanted to drink, otherwise he could not have done it.” I have no doubt that this was said in good faith. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">312</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_312" id="Page_312"></a></p> <p class="p2 left65"> August 1. @@ -10949,7 +10862,7 @@ might get a pair of moccasins at this place, and that he could walk very easily in them without hurting his feet, wearing several pairs of stockings, and he said beside that they were so porous that when you had taken in -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">313</a></span> +<a name="Page_313" id="Page_313"></a> water it all drained out again in a little while. We stopped to get some sugar, but found that the family had moved away, and the house was unoccupied, except @@ -10982,7 +10895,7 @@ expected a wetting, we stopped early and dined on the east side of a small expansion of the river, just above what are probably called Whetstone Falls, about a dozen miles below Hunt’s. There were pretty fresh -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">314</a></span> +<a name="Page_314" id="Page_314"></a> moose-tracks by the waterside. There were singular long ridges hereabouts, called “horsebacks,” covered with ferns. My companion, having lost his pipe, asked the @@ -11015,7 +10928,7 @@ must be pretty smart to do it. As his load, the canoe, would be much the heaviest and bulkiest, though the simplest, I thought that I ought to be able to do it, and said that I would try. So I proceeded to gather up the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">315</a></span> +<a name="Page_315" id="Page_315"></a> gun, axe, paddle, kettle, frying-pan, plates, dippers, carpets, etc., etc., and while I was thus engaged he threw me his cowhide boots. “What, are these in the bargain?” @@ -11049,7 +10962,7 @@ and it was such a dry and sandy soil as we had not noticed before.</p> <p>As we approached the mouth of the East Branch, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">316</a></span> +<a name="Page_316" id="Page_316"></a> we passed two or three huts, the first sign of civilization after Hunt’s, though we saw no road as yet; we heard a cow-bell, and even saw an infant held up to a small @@ -11083,7 +10996,7 @@ better shingle to lean our backs against.</p> <p>We camped about two miles below Nicketow, on the south side of the West Branch, covering with fresh twigs the withered bed of a former traveler, and feeling that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">317</a></span> +<a name="Page_317" id="Page_317"></a> we were now in a settled country, especially when in the evening we heard an ox sneeze in its wild pasture across the river. Wherever you land along the frequented part @@ -11115,7 +11028,7 @@ not patience to try the experiment fairly, for he said it must be boiled till the roots were completely softened so as to thicken the soup like flour; but though we left it on all night, we found it dried to the kettle in the morning, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">318</a></span> +<a name="Page_318" id="Page_318"></a> and not yet boiled to a flour. Perhaps the roots were not ripe enough, for they commonly gather them in the fall. As it was, it was palatable enough, but it reminded me @@ -11151,7 +11064,7 @@ for the sake of certainty, as if he were moody. Not that he was incommunicative, for he frequently commenced a long-winded narrative of his own accord,—repeated at length the tradition of some old battle, or some passage -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">319</a></span> +<a name="Page_319" id="Page_319"></a> in the recent history of his tribe in which he had acted a prominent part, from time to time drawing a long breath, and resuming the thread of his tale, with the @@ -11187,7 +11100,7 @@ a dipper of tea. Here, too, we dined and did some washing and botanizing, while he lay on the bank. In the afternoon we went on a little farther, though the Indian was no better. “Burntibus,” as he called it, was a long, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">320</a></span> +<a name="Page_320" id="Page_320"></a> smooth, lake-like reach below the Five Islands. He said that he owned a hundred acres somewhere up this way. As a thunder-shower appeared to be coming up, we @@ -11221,7 +11134,7 @@ his tea.</p> <p>To save the trouble of pitching our tent, when we had secured our stores from wandering dogs, we camped in the solitary half-open barn near the bank, with the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">321</a></span> +<a name="Page_321" id="Page_321"></a> permission of the owner, lying on new-mown hay four feet deep. The fragrance of the hay, in which many ferns, etc., were mingled, was agreeable, though it was @@ -11259,7 +11172,7 @@ not now used by them, because, as our Indian Polis said, they were too solitary.</p> <p>The small river emptying in at Lincoln is the Matanancook, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">322</a></span> +<a name="Page_322" id="Page_322"></a> which also, we noticed, was the name of a steamer moored there. So we paddled and floated along, looking into the mouths of rivers. When passing the @@ -11293,7 +11206,7 @@ were not obliged to get out of the canoe after this on account of falls or rapids, nor, indeed, was it quite necessary here. We took less notice of the scenery to-day, because we were in quite a settled country. The river -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">323</a></span> +<a name="Page_323" id="Page_323"></a> became broad and sluggish, and we saw a blue heron winging its way slowly down the stream before us.</p> @@ -11327,7 +11240,7 @@ length he persuaded them to make a stand.</p> <p>The priest was going for a sign to cut down the liberty-pole. So Polis and his party had a secret meeting about it; he got ready fifteen or twenty stout young men, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">324</a></span> +<a name="Page_324" id="Page_324"></a> “stript ’em naked, and painted ’em like old times,” and told them that when the priest and his party went to cut down the liberty-pole, they were to rush up, take @@ -11363,7 +11276,7 @@ and fix up our inner man, at least, by dining.</p> <p>It was a large island, with an abundance of hemp nettle, but I did not notice any kind of red paint there. The Olamon River, at its mouth at least, is a dead -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">325</a></span> +<a name="Page_325" id="Page_325"></a> stream. There was another large island in that neighborhood, which the Indian called “<i>Soogle</i>” (<i>i. e.</i>, Sugar) Island.</p> @@ -11398,7 +11311,7 @@ obliged to sit with our legs drawn up, and our knees above the side of the canoe, which would have prevented our paddling thus, or perhaps he was afraid of wearing out his canoe, by constant friction on the side. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">326</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_326" id="Page_326"></a></p> <p>I told him that I had been accustomed to sit in the stern, and, lifting my paddle at each stroke, give it a @@ -11435,7 +11348,7 @@ and we shot through without taking in a drop.</p> <p>Soon after the Indian houses came in sight, but I could not at first tell my companion which of two or -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">327</a></span> +<a name="Page_327" id="Page_327"></a> three large white ones was our guide’s. He said it was the one with blinds.</p> @@ -11462,14 +11375,14 @@ from the office.</p> <p>This was the last that I saw of Joe Polis. We took the last train, and reached Bangor that night. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328"></a></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329"></a></span></p> +<a name="Page_328" id="Page_328"></a> +<a name="Page_329" id="Page_329"></a></p> </div><!--end chapter--> <div class="chapter"> -<h2>APPENDIX</h2> +<h2><a name="chap04"></a>APPENDIX</h2> <hr class="l15" /> @@ -11477,7 +11390,7 @@ the last train, and reached Bangor that night. <div class="chapter"> -<h3>I. TREES</h3> +<h3><a name="chap05"></a>I. TREES</h3> <p>The prevailing trees (I speak only of what I saw) on the east and west branches of the Penobscot and on the upper part @@ -11505,7 +11418,7 @@ maples.</p> burnt grounds. We saw many straggling white pines, commonly unsound trees, which had therefore been skipped by the choppers; these were the largest trees we saw; and we -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">330</a></span> +<a name="Page_330" id="Page_330"></a> occasionally passed a small wood in which this was the prevailing tree; but I did not notice nearly so many of these trees as I can see in a single walk in Concord. The speckled or @@ -11541,13 +11454,13 @@ found chiefly, if not solely, on mountains southward.</p> <div class="chapter"> -<h3>II. FLOWERS AND SHRUBS</h3> +<h3><a name="chap06"></a>II. FLOWERS AND SHRUBS</h3> <p>It appears that in a forest like this the great majority of flowers, shrubs, and grasses are confined to the banks of the rivers and lakes, and to the meadows, more open swamps, burnt lands, and mountain-tops; comparatively very few -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">331</a></span> +<a name="Page_331" id="Page_331"></a> indeed penetrate the woods. There is no such dispersion even of wild-flowers as is commonly supposed, or as exists in a cleared and settled country. Most of our wild-flowers, so @@ -11581,7 +11494,7 @@ Acetosella</i> (common wood-sorrel), <i>Aster acuminatus</i>, <i>Pyrola secunda</i> (one-sided pyrola), <i>Medeola Virginica</i> (Indian cucumber-root), small <i>Circæa</i> (enchanter’s nightshade), and perhaps <i>Cornus Canadensis</i> (dwarf cornel). -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">332</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_332" id="Page_332"></a></p> <p>Of these, the last of July, 1858, only the <i>Aster acuminatus</i> and great round-leaved orchis were conspicuously in bloom.</p> @@ -11617,7 +11530,7 @@ orders, wool-grass and the sensitive fern.</p> were: rue, <i>Solidago lanceolata</i> and <i>squarrosa</i>, <i>Diplopappus umbellatus</i>, <i>Aster Radula</i>, <i>Lilium Canadense</i>, great and small purple orchis, <i>Mimulus ringens</i>, blue flag, virgin’s-bower, etc. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">333</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_333" id="Page_333"></a></p> <p>The characteristic flowers in <i>swamps</i> were: <i>Rubus triflorus</i> (dwarf raspberry); <i>Calla palustris</i> (water-arum); and <i>Sarracenia @@ -11653,7 +11566,7 @@ small one.</p> <i>osier rouge</i> and alders (before mentioned); sallows, or small willows, of two or three kinds, as <i>Salis humilis</i>, <i>rostrata</i>, and <i>discolor</i> (<i>?</i>); <i>Sambucus Canadensis</i> (black elder); rose; <i>Viburnum -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">334</a></span> +<a name="Page_334" id="Page_334"></a> Opulus</i> and <i>nudum</i> (cranberry-tree and withe-rod); <i>Pyrus Americana</i> (American mountain-ash); <i>Corylus rostrata</i> (beaked hazelnut); <i>Diervilla trifida</i> (bush honeysuckle); <i>Prunus @@ -11687,7 +11600,7 @@ sorrel); <i>Trifolium pratense</i>, 1853, on carries, frequent, (red clover); <i>Leucanthemum vulgare</i>, carries, (whiteweed); <i>Phleum pratense</i>, carries, 1853 and 1857, (herd’s-grass); <i>Verbena hastata</i> (blue vervain); <i>Cirsium arvense</i>, abundant at camps, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">335</a></span> +<a name="Page_335" id="Page_335"></a> 1857, (Canada thistle); <i>Rumex crispus</i> (<i>?</i>), West Branch, 1853 (?), (curled dock); <i>Verbascum Thapsus</i>, between Bangor and lake, 1853, (common mullein).</p> @@ -11708,7 +11621,7 @@ in the woods.</p> <div class="chapter"> -<h3>III. LIST OF PLANTS</h3> +<h3><a name="chap07"></a>III. LIST OF PLANTS</h3> <p>The following is a list of the plants which I noticed in the Maine woods, in the years 1853 and 1857. (Those marked * @@ -11730,7 +11643,7 @@ especially on burnt lands, almost as white as birches.</p> <p><i>Populus grandidentata</i> (large-toothed aspen), perhaps two or three. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">336</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_336" id="Page_336"></a></p> <p><i>Fagus ferruginea</i> (American beech), not uncommon, at least on the West Branch. (Saw more in 1846.)</p> @@ -11779,7 +11692,7 @@ most common, if not equally common, and on mountains.</p> <p><i>Abies alba</i> (white or single spruce), common with the last along the rivers. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">337</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_337" id="Page_337"></a></p> <p><i>Pinus Banksiana</i> (gray or Northern scrub pine), a few on an island in Grand Lake.</p> @@ -11824,7 +11737,7 @@ on Webster Stream.</p> <p><i>Sambucus pubens</i> (red-berried elder), not quite so common; roadsides toward Moosehead, and on carries afterward; fruit beautiful. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">338</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_338" id="Page_338"></a></p> <p><i>Ribes lacustre</i> (swamp-gooseberry), swamps, common; Mud Pond Swamp and Webster Stream; not ripe July 29, 1857.</p> @@ -11872,7 +11785,7 @@ dam and on East Branch.</p> lakes, etc.</p> <p><i>Rhus typhina</i>* (staghorn sumach). -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">339</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_339" id="Page_339"></a></p> <p><i>Myrica Gale</i> (sweet-gale), common.</p> @@ -11923,7 +11836,7 @@ River and after; redder than ours, and a different variety from our var. <i>pulchra</i>.</p> <p><i>Aster acuminatus</i> (pointed-leaved aster), the prevailing -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">340</a></span> +<a name="Page_340" id="Page_340"></a> aster in woods, not long open on South Branch, July 31; two or more feet high.</p> @@ -11970,7 +11883,7 @@ common.</p> <p><i>Iris versicolor</i> (larger blue flag), common, Moosehead, West Branch, Umbazookskus, etc. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">341</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_341" id="Page_341"></a></p> <p><i>Sparganium</i> (bur-reed).</p> @@ -12022,7 +11935,7 @@ common. In flower still, August 1, 1857.</p> <p><i>Taraxacum Dens-leonis</i> (common dandelion), Smith’s, 1853; only there. Is it not foreign? -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">342</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_342" id="Page_342"></a></p> <p><i>Diervilla trifida</i> (bush honeysuckle), very common.</p> @@ -12073,7 +11986,7 @@ on East Branch.</p> <p><i>Solidago altissima</i> (rough hairy goldenrod), not uncommon both years. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">343</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_343" id="Page_343"></a></p> <p><i>Coptis trifolia</i> (three-leaved gold-thread).</p> @@ -12127,7 +12040,7 @@ lettuce), Chesuncook woods, 1853.</p> Moosehead, Smith’s, etc.</p> <p><i>Lilium Canadense</i> (wild yellow lily), very common and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">344</a></span> +<a name="Page_344" id="Page_344"></a> large, West and East Branch; one on East Branch, 1857, with strongly revolute petals, and leaves perfectly smooth beneath, but not larger than the last, and apparently only a @@ -12177,7 +12090,7 @@ at Smith’s in 1853.</p> <p><i>Potamogeton</i> (pondweed), not common.</p> <p><i>Potentilla tridentata</i> (mountain cinquefoil), Kineo. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">345</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_345" id="Page_345"></a></p> <p><i>Potentilla Norvegica</i> (cinquefoil), Heron Lake shore and Smith’s.</p> @@ -12226,7 +12139,7 @@ woods, 1853.</p> <p><i>Smilacina racemosa</i> (false spikenard) (?), Umbazookskus Carry, July 27, 1853. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">346</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_346" id="Page_346"></a></p> <p><i>Veronica scutellata</i> (marsh speedwell).</p> @@ -12274,7 +12187,7 @@ and Smith’s.</p> <p><i>Oxalis stricta</i> (yellow wood-sorrel), 1853, at Smith’s and his wood-path. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">347</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_347" id="Page_347"></a></p> <p><i>Liparis liliifolia</i> (tway-blade), Kineo (Bradford).</p> @@ -12316,7 +12229,7 @@ riversides; some on the gravelly shore of Heron Lake Island.</p> <div class="chapter"> -<h3>IV. LIST OF BIRDS</h3> +<h3><a name="chap08"></a>IV. LIST OF BIRDS</h3> <p class="center"><span class="smcap">which I saw in Maine between July 24 and August 3, 1857</span></p> @@ -12326,7 +12239,7 @@ riversides; some on the gravelly shore of Heron Lake Island.</p> <p><i>Haliæetus leucocephalus</i> (white-headed or bald eagle), at Ragmuff, and above and below Hunt’s, and on pond below Mattawamkeag. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">348</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_348" id="Page_348"></a></p> <p><i>Pandion haliaëtus</i> (fish hawk or osprey), heard, also seen on East Branch.</p> @@ -12379,7 +12292,7 @@ after, apparently nesting; the prevailing bird early and late.</p> <p><i>Sylvia pinus</i> (pine warbler), one part of voyage.</p> <p><i>Trichas Marylandica</i> (Maryland yellow-throat), everywhere. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">349</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_349" id="Page_349"></a></p> <p><i>Coccyzus Americanus</i> (<i>?</i>) (yellow-billed cuckoo), common.</p> @@ -12424,14 +12337,14 @@ common on lakes and rivers.</p> <div class="chapter"> -<h3>V. QUADRUPEDS</h3> +<h3><a name="chap09"></a>V. QUADRUPEDS</h3> <p>A bat on West Branch; beaver skull at Grand Lake; Mr. Thatcher ate beaver with moose on the Caucomgomoc. A muskrat on the last stream; the red squirrel is common in the depths of the woods; a dead porcupine on Chamberlain road; a cow moose and tracks of calf; skin of a bear, just killed. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">350</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_350" id="Page_350"></a></p> <hr class="l15" /> @@ -12439,7 +12352,7 @@ a cow moose and tracks of calf; skin of a bear, just killed. <div class="chapter"> -<h3>VI. OUTFIT FOR AN EXCURSION</h3> +<h3><a name="chap10"></a>VI. OUTFIT FOR AN EXCURSION</h3> <p>The following will be a good outfit for one who wishes to make an excursion of <i>twelve</i> days into the Maine woods in @@ -12472,7 +12385,7 @@ spoon (for all); three or four old newspapers, much twine, and several rags for dish-cloths; twenty feet of strong cord, four-quart tin pail for kettle, two tin dippers, three tin plates, a fry-pan. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">351</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_351" id="Page_351"></a></p> <p><i>Provisions.</i>—Soft hard-bread, twenty-eight pounds; pork, sixteen pounds; sugar, twelve pounds; one pound black tea @@ -12509,13 +12422,13 @@ or eight dollars more to transport them to the lake.</p> <div class="chapter"> -<h3>VII. A LIST OF INDIAN WORDS</h3> +<h3><a name="chap11"></a>VII. A LIST OF INDIAN WORDS</h3> <table summary="Indian Words" class="words"> <tr> <td colspan="3">1. <i>Ktaadn</i>, said to mean <i>Highest Land</i>, Rasles puts for <i>Mt. Pemadene</i>; for <i>Grai, pierre à aiguiser</i>, <i>Kitadaügan</i>. (<i>Vide</i> Potter.) -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">352</a></span></td> +<a name="Page_352" id="Page_352"></a></td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan="3"><i>Mattawamkeag</i>, place where two rivers meet. (Indian of @@ -12604,7 +12517,7 @@ for plural, <i>lac</i> or <i>étang</i>, (Rasles). <i>Ouaürinaügamek</i>, <td><i>Penobscot</i>, Rocky River. <i>Puapeskou</i>, stone. (Rasles v. Springer.)</td> <td>}</td> <td class="tdc">Ind’n of carry. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">353</a></span></td> +<a name="Page_353" id="Page_353"></a></td> </tr> <tr> <td><i>Umbazookskus</i>, meadow stream. (Much-meadow river, Polis.)</td> @@ -12710,7 +12623,7 @@ called <i>Ragmuff</i>.</td> <td><i>Nonlangyis</i>, the name of a deadwater between the last and Pine Stream.</td> <td>} -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">354</a></span></td> +<a name="Page_354" id="Page_354"></a></td> </tr> <tr> <td><i>Karsaootuk</i>, Black River (or Pine Stream). <i>Mkazéouighen</i>, @@ -12798,7 +12711,7 @@ into the Penobscot below Nicketow).</td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan="3"><i>Passadumkeag</i>, “where the water falls into the Penobscot -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">355</a></span> +<a name="Page_355" id="Page_355"></a> above the falls” (Williamson). <i>Paüsidaükioui</i> is, <i>au dessus de la montagne</i> (Rasles).</td> </tr> @@ -12849,7 +12762,7 @@ it meant “large mountain or large thing.”</p> <p><i>Kenduskeag</i> (the place of eels).</p> <p><i>Kineo</i> (flint), mountain on the border, etc. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">356</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_356" id="Page_356"></a></p> <p><i>Metawamkeag</i>, a river with a smooth, gravelly bottom. (Sockbasin.)</p> @@ -12905,7 +12818,7 @@ says differently.</p> (Sockbasin.)</p> <p><i>Umbazookskus</i> (lake). -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">357</a></span></p> +<a name="Page_357" id="Page_357"></a></p> <p><i>Wassatiquoik</i>, a mountain river. (Sockbasin.)</p> @@ -12929,14 +12842,14 @@ from this and <i>auke</i> (a place where water rushes), and that <i>schoon</i> means the same; and that the Marblehead people and others have derived the words “scoon” and “scoot” from the Indians, and hence “schooner”; refers to a Mr. Chute. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358"></a></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359"></a></span></p> +<a name="Page_358" id="Page_358"></a> +<a name="Page_359" id="Page_359"></a></p> </div><!--end chapter--> <div class="chapter"> -<h2>INDEX</h2> +<h2><a name="chap12"></a>INDEX</h2> <div class="index"> <p>Abbot (Me.), <a href="#Page_97">97</a>.</p> @@ -13073,7 +12986,7 @@ the Indians, and hence “schooner”; refers to a Mr. Chute. factory, a, <a href="#Page_70">70</a>.</p> <p>Cold Stream Pond, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">360</a></span></p> +</p> <p>Colton’s Map of Maine, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>, <a href="#Page_308">308</a>.</p> @@ -13228,7 +13141,7 @@ the Indians, and hence “schooner”; refers to a Mr. Chute. on Moosehead Lake, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>; sketches in Reports of, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>; quoted, regarding hornstone on Mount Kineo, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>, <a href="#Page_195">195</a>. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">361</a></span></p> +</p> <p>Joe Merry Lakes, the, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>.</p> @@ -13387,7 +13300,7 @@ the Indians, and hence “schooner”; refers to a Mr. Chute. <p>Mosquitoes, <a href="#Page_246">246</a>, <a href="#Page_310">310</a>, <a href="#Page_311">311</a>.</p> <p>Mountain-ash, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">362</a></span></p> +</p> <p>Mountain-tops, <a href="#Page_71">71</a>.</p> @@ -13537,7 +13450,7 @@ the Indians, and hence “schooner”; refers to a Mr. Chute. <p><i>Repaired</i> road, a, <a href="#Page_98">98</a>.</p> <p>Restigouche River, the, <a href="#Page_178">178</a>. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">363</a></span></p> +</p> <p>Ripogenus Portage, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>.</p> @@ -13689,7 +13602,7 @@ the Indians, and hence “schooner”; refers to a Mr. Chute. <p class="p2">Umbazookskus, the, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>, <a href="#Page_222">222</a>; Much Meadow River, <a href="#Page_229">229</a>; <a href="#Page_230">230</a>, <a href="#Page_232">232</a>. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">364</a></span></p> +</p> <p>Umbazookskus Lake, <a href="#Page_233">233</a>, <a href="#Page_238">238</a>.</p> @@ -13802,9 +13715,6 @@ buried it in the solemn woods.”</p> been preserved. In particular, numerous spelling differences between the text and the Appendices were noted and retained.</p> -<p>On page 19, “Elergy in a Country Churchyard” possibly should be “Elegy - in a Country Churchyard.”</p> - <p>On page 240, “Rides lacustre” possibly should be “Ribes lacustre.”</p> <p>On page 259, “margaraticea” possibly should be “margaritacea.”</p> @@ -13822,380 +13732,7 @@ buried it in the solemn woods.”</p> </div><!--end chapter--> -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Maine Woods, by Henry David Thoreau - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAINE WOODS *** - -***** This file should be named 42500-h.htm or 42500-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/2/5/0/42500/ - -E-text prepared by Melissa McDaniel and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team -from page images generously made available by Internet Archive - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - - - -</pre> - +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 42500 ***</div> </body> </html> |