“Wal, after we got to the surface, the trout that was towin’ me, seemed to let on an extra amount of steam for a mile or so, and let me say the way we went was a caution.  I’ve travelled on the cars in my day, when they made every thing gee again, but that kind o’ goin’ wasn’t a circumstance to the way we tore along.  The water rose up on either hand more than twenty feet, and went roarin’, and tumblin’, and hissin’, as if everything was goin’ to smash.  All at once the line was thrown loose, and the boat went straight ahead bows on, to one of the small islands up towards the head of the lake, and when she struck, I went through the air eend over eend, clear across the island, more than fifteen rods, ca-splash into the lake on the other side.

“Human nater couldn’t stand all that, so startin’ up I found that while I’d been layin’ in the bottom of the boat the wind had ris, and was blowin’ a stiff gale.  The boat had drifted across the lake and had struck broadside agin the shore, and the waves were makin’ a clean breach into her at every surge.  I soon got her, head on to the waves, and feelin’ something mighty lively at the other eend of the line, hauled in a twelve-pounder.”

“Pshaw!” exclaimed one of the audience; “you’ve only been telling a dream, in this long yarn, we’ve been listening to.”

“Wal,” replied the narrator; “some people that I’ve told it to, have suspicioned that it might be so; but every thing about it seemed so nateral, that I’m almost ready to make my affidavy that it was sober fact.  One thing, however, I always had my doubts about:  I never fully believed, that I was actually pitched over that island.  I’ve hearn it said that when a man has eaten a hearty dinner, and goes to sleep with the hot sun pourin’ right down on him, he’s apt to see and hear a good many strange things before he wakes up.  May be it was so with me.”

CHAPTER VI.

THE UPPER SARANAC—­SPECTACLE PONDS—­THE ACCUSATION AND THE DEFENCE—­AN OCTOGENARIAN SMOKER.

We spent the next day in rowing about the Upper Saranac, exploring its beautiful bays and islands.  We took as many trout in trolling occasionally, as we needed for dinner and supper.  It became an established law among us, that we should kill no more game or fish than we needed for supplies, whatever their abundance or our temptation might be.  It required some self-denial to observe this law, but we kept it with tolerable strictness.  There were times when we had a large supply of both venison and fish, but there were seven men of us in all, and we could despose of a good deal of flesh and fish in the twenty-four hours.  We had sent our boat with the luggage across the Indian carrying place, a path of a mile through the forest, to the Spectacle Ponds, three little lakes, from which a stream, known as Stony Brook, rises.  This stream is navigable for small boats like ours, five miles to the Rackett River.  These lakes contain from a hundred to a hundred and fifty acres each.  At the head of the Upper Pond is a beautiful cold spring, near which, upon crossing the carrying place, at evening, we found our tents pitched.  We arrived here about sundown, somewhat wearied with our day’s excursion, and with appetites fully equal to a plentiful supper which was soon in readiness for us.