The Portland daily press., 1862-07-08

bow of the birch round the wrong way and in
an instant theboat is swamped, everything, in
cluding YOURSELF is pitched into the swift wa
ter. The risk enhances the pleasure; and.
what Is strange, familiarity with the danger
does not cause the excitement to be any the
less. 1t seems to be strange exception to
the rule of risk. Now you and have seen
how boys manage before "the Fourth If a
cracker is to be fired, the extreme end of the
little slow match must be lit, the cracker
thrown down and the boys must, for safety.
stand round the corner till it explodes. On
the evening Of the Fourth, you will see the
same boys, if they have any crackers left, firing
them off in their teeth! But with this sailing
1t Is not so there is in the last descent lust as
much alertness as in the first and easier ones,
just as much pleasure and even to bystander
few sights can be more fascinating than the
rapid shooting of birch canoe over white
falls. There is such an apparent hardihood in
the attempt; such a trifling with life in the
frail boat, such swiftness of passage the look
er ON watches with the keenest interest the
whole procedure. How much more eagerly
then, does he enjoy it, who is permitted not
merely to see the pleasurable risk but to share
it.
1t is called twenty miles from the Carey
farm to the Chesuncook, the most beautiful
lake on the Penobscot River. 1t is a long and
narrow sheet of water and seems in its length
to be broad river rather than a narrow lake.
This lake is well known to the readers of the
Atlantic from the charming communications
entitled Chesuncook, and can truly say that
those papers, instead Of exaggerating the
beauty of the lake, have not given ade-
quate idea of the scenery or the general effect.
Far be it from me to imagine that this pen can
tell what Thoreau left untold! Only let me
say that the lake, whether you view it from
neighboring mountains as a silver band among
the pines and the fir trees, or from its head
and look down its uncurved length till the
two banks in the distant perspective become
as one, however you may gaze on it, is ever
most charming sight
Along its banks live few families, in COM
Portable houses; the men being chiefly small
farmers who sell more or less produce to the
lumbermen in the winter. Passing by these
houses, allow me to say that we now decide to
take the longest way to Katahdin, and this
take us away from Chesuncook to a lake twen-
ty miles northeast. Most of the Katahdin Wis
itors find the journey to the great mountain
from the foot of Chesuncook to be pleasant
one; but it is sincerely hoped that those who
can spend the time will consume few more
days on this longer and more diversified
route.
Turning now from the lake to the little riv-
er which comes in near the head, let us paddle
our canoes upstream for short distance
We seesimmediately difference between fore
ing birch up stream and permitting it to go
down Of itself. This river Is called 'the stream
of grassy banks" or Umbazooksus, by the In
dians, on account of the broad meadows on both
sides of the water. On these wide expanses of
marsh-grass, the moose used to be found in
great plenty, but they are now scarcely ever
seen on the river. Still it is better to have the
gun in readiness, and hardly had we taken
this precaution before we rounded short
turn in the stream and saw, far up river,
moose feeding. 1t seemed scarcely to move,
but it is not wise to place any reliance upon
the slow movements of this animal, for he may
unexpectedly take a sudden start. and leave
us none the better for the sight. Therefore
every breath is slowly and silently drawn and
as the canoe moves along in perfect stiffness
the guide does not dare TO remove the paddle
from the water, lest the falling of the drops
might startle the moose, but he turns the pad
die under water, and still brings to bear as
much pressure before. Fortunately the
wind is dead against us, and the moose doesn't
yet take the alarm; therefore there is all the
more need of caution as we draw near the an
imal, and our approach is in perfect silence
G..