It is, in truth, a gloomy place, typical of desolation, which it is well to see once, but which no one will desire to visit a second time.  We noticed on the sandy beach tracks of the wolf, the panther, the moose, and in one place the huge track of a bear.  He must have been of monstrous growth, judging by the impression of his great feet and claws in the sand.  But we saw none of these animals, and so gloomy is the place, so sepulchral, such an air of desolation all around, that it brings over the mind a strong feeling of sadness and gloom, and we resolved not to tarry beyond the nest morning, even for the chance of taking a moose, a panther, or a bear.

We pitched our tent, as I said, a little way back from the lake, near a cold spring, that came boiling up through the white sand in a little basin, eight feet wide, the bottom of which, like that on the bank of Tupper’s Lake, was all in commotion, boiling and bubbling, as the water forced its way up through it.  I was in the forward boat as we approached the lake, and was surprised to see the number of deer feeding upon the lily pads in the shallow water, and the wild grass that grew along the shore.  Some stood midside in the water, some with only the line of their backs and heads above it.  Some were close along the shore, feeding upon the grass that grew there.  Others still were nibbling at the leaves of the moosewood upon the bank, and one large buck stood by the side of a fir tree, rubbing his neck up and down against it, as if scratching himself against its rough bark.  We had not been discovered, and waited for the other boats to arrive.  Great was the astonishment of my companions, when they saw the number of deer that were feeding in this little lake.  Neither of them had ever seen the like, nor had I, save on one occasion, and that was in a small lake, the name of which I have forgotten, lying a few miles beyond the head of the Upper Saranac.

“You see that clump of low balsam trees on that point yonder,” said my boatman, as we lay upon our oars, pointing in the direction indicated.  “Well, from that spot, three years ago, I shot a moose out upon the bar there, as it was feeding upon the lily pads and flag grass.

“I had heard from an old Indian hunter, about this lake, and the abundance of game to be found here, and I made up my mind to see it.  So another hunter and myself agreed to come up here in July, and take a look at matters, and find out whether the old copperhead told the truth or not.  We started about the middle of July, with our rifles and provisions for a fortnight, and came up.  We saw any quantity of deer on the way.  On the second chain of ponds, we saw, as we were rowing along, a large panther walk out on to the top of a great boulder, and look around, lashing his sides with his long tail, and then sit down on his haunches with his tail curled around his feet, just as you’ve seen a cat do.  He was too far off for us to shoot him, and he saw us before