The Portland daily press., 1862-08-04

supper, because we are all so cross, tonight.
Supper was not success. The pork was
done too much, the tea was cold the bread as
like yellow quartz containing beryl, so much
saleratus had been used in its manufacture.
Poor cook, how he is scolded tonight! But
then the fellow might have, at least, washed
his hands before making bread
The ground is wet tonight and the fire IL
disinclined to burn. But we are all sleepy and
most of ALL And we shall all go to rest to-
night, peeyish and homesick and not glad we
came. Next day, A. M. Ugh! Good morn
ing? Yes, but cold; miserable night of it. The
wind which was pretty high, even as early as
seven last night, blew perfect gale at eleven
O'Clock; and down came our tent The fire
was carried away piecemeal into the lake by
the wind, and quenched. So we again laid
down with no fire and no tent and shivered
All have the rheumatism this morning, -;
and so on for a couple of pages more in my
diary.
The lights Of camp-life we saw that very day
when the sun came out, warm and rich in its
goodness and its great charity to all mankind,
the rays falling alike on the just and the un-
just. And the sunlight stilled the wind and
gilded the smooth lake. In the deep water of
the opposite shore, we could see the black re-
Election of the shaded pines and spruces, and
to tine left of this we could plainly see the
points at which the rays of reflection were
bent, and the rays of refraction were broken.
But nowhere could we find the shadow in the
water" of which the French painters talk; the
water was too clear and crystalline it was as
air ITSELF
In the beautiful light of this morning we
sailed over the lake and down the winding
thoroughfare of several miles, into the grand
lake itself.
This lake is one of peculiar interest Jewel
submits, but having only water exposure of
dark and broken cliffs, and fringed with
somewhat characteristic vegetation, lis a lake
worthy of classical story
But although these lakes may have been the
scenes of fierce conflicts and of thrilling ro-
mantle adventures, their history is a blank
The Northern Indians, like the "Pirates of the
East" had no historian to preserve the record
of noble exploits and veil the crimes of differ
ent generations And therefore we can to-day,
study only the present.
Overhanging the southern part of the lake
is projecting spur of a mountain which has
long been the admiration of those who have
seen it, but it has never until within year or
two, borne any name at all Last season. Pro-
fessor Hitchcock, the State Geologist, named
livery appropriately, Mount Matagamon, since
Matagamon is the name of the Lake of which
the mountain stands guardian. The noun
tain presents bold front to the south of the
lake, being, in fact, as grim as Kineo itself and
as unlike any other. i am anxiously and i'm
patiently waiting to see some painting of this
singular mountain that its beauties may be
studied and appreciated by others who have
never visited it.
Upon the islands of this lake we find Pc
culiar confer, the gray pine of our early ex-
plorer, Michaux. 1t is tree of most singu-
lar habit, and is at once easily recognized from
dwarfed individuals of other species of pine,
by the almost PROSTATE form, and the leaves
only an inch long. No visitor, however care
less, can fail to notice this singular tree.
These two marked peculiarities of the lake
the mountain and the pines-are only two of
its many very pleasing features.
Without stopping to speak of the many lilies
upon the low shore of the eastern part: and
the crimson foating-knobweed of almost every
shallow little bay; and the black ducks, timor-
GUS and cunning; passing by these and other
things of interest at this the "Grand Lake, y
we must now float down the East Branch of
the Penobscot The Penobscot River is, above
Nicatou, divided into two branches, each of
them large enough to claim separate name
Upon the eastern one, we are now approaching
the Forks" and on our way shall see that the
river well deserves the name "Rocky bottom"
Hardly couple miles from Grand Lake Dam
is the greatest place for trout in the State of
Maine. There is little brook finding its way
into the river, and at its junction affords a
place where trout can flourish better than in
the river water alone. Here we fished for
some time with fair success, until, the sport
beginning to lag, one of the guides said
snow I'll show you the Bil-fish brook" So
we crept slowly after him, among the alders
which lined the shore, and soon heard his
"hush-sh-sh."
Looking down through the alders, we could
see deep hole in the stream filled black with
trout We could hardly believe our eyes; but
there were the fish, in such abundance that
Isaak Walton would have been beside himself
for joy.
From that trout-hole we could catch the fish
Nth bare hook
Think of such fishing as that, We pscators
who patiently whip troutbrook for hours
and hours, with your fancy rods and reels and
creels and fussy flies, In the faint hope of en-
ticing into your basket some injudicious fish
of tender years. With what degree of COM
placency and honesty can you say that the
latter is the finer sport? Is it more scien-
tific? If you do really think SO, then please
visit the Bill-fish brook, and have your no
tions Of this subject modified, during this
very summer. There are trout enough there
for all the hooks in Bradford's Boston store
enough for all angling comers.
Sit under the black shades of Mount Mata-
CANON and the Traveller Mountain, and, with
your hook and line, see for yourselves whether
it is not as exciting sport, this fishing for un
sophisticated trout, as angling for those fish
which have been educated to be fastidious SC