My clothes were soaked in perspiration, but I shouldered my knapsack with alacrity, and we began the descent.  I noticed that the woods were much thicker, and had quite a different look from those I had passed through, but thought nothing of it, as I expected to strike the lake near its head, whereas I had before come out at its foot.  We had not gone far when we crossed a line of marked trees, which my companions were disposed to follow.  It intersected our course nearly at right angles, and kept along and up the side of the mountain.  My impression was that it lead up from the lake, and that by keeping our course we should reach the lake sooner than if we followed this line.  About halfway down the mountain, we could see through the interstices the opposite slope.  I encouraged my comrades by telling them that the lake was between us and that, and not more than half a mile distant.  We soon reached the bottom, where we found a small stream and quite an extensive alder swamp, evidently the ancient bed of a lake.  I explained to my half-vexed and half-incredulous companions that we were probably above the lake, and that this stream must lead to it.  “Follow it,” they said; “we will wait here till we hear from you.”

So I went on, more than ever disposed to believe that we were under a spell, and that the lake had slipped from my grasp after all.  Seeing no favorable sign as I went forward, I laid down my accoutrements, and climbed a decayed beech that leaned out over the swamp and promised a good view from the top.  As I stretched myself up to look around from the highest attainable branch, there was suddenly a loud crack at the root.  With a celerity that would at least have done credit to a bear, I regained the ground, having caught but a momentary glimpse of the country, but enough to convince me no lake was near.  Leaving all incumbrances here but my gun, I still pressed on, loath to be thus baffled.  After floundering through another alder swamp for nearly half a mile, I flattered myself that I was close to the lake.  I caught sight of a low spur of the mountain sweeping around like a half-extended arm, and I fondly imagined that within its clasp was the object of my search.  But I found only more alder swamp.  After this region was cleared the creek began to descend the mountain very rapidly.  Its banks became high and narrow, and it went whirling away with a sound that seemed to m earls like a burst of ironical laughter.  I turned back with a feeling of mingled disgust, shame and vexation.  In fact I was almost sick, and when I reached my companions, after an absence of nearly two hours, hungry, fatigued, and disheartened, I would have sold my interest in Thomas’s Lake at a very low figure.  For the first time, I heartily wished myself well out of the woods.  Thomas might keep his lake, and the enchanters guard his possession!  I doubted if he had ever found it the second time, or if any one else ever had.