shining when we emerged into what is called the "Quaker Clearing,"
ground that I had been over nine years before, and that lies about two
miles south of the lake. From this point we had a well-worn path that
led us up a sharp rise of ground, then through level woods till we saw
the bright gleam of the water through the trees.

I am always struck, on approaching these little mountain lakes, with
the extensive preparation that is made for them in the conformation of
the ground. I am thinking of a depression, or natural basin, in the
side of the mountain or on its top, the brink of which I shall reach
after a little steep climbing; but instead of that, after I have
accomplished the ascent, I find a broad sweep of level or gently
undulating woodland that brings me after a half hour or so to the lake,
which lies in this vast lap like a drop of water in the palm of a man's
hand.

Balsam Lake was oval-shaped, scarcely more than half a mile long and a
quarter of a mile wide, but presented a charming picture, with a group
of dark gray hemlocks filling the valley about its head, and the
mountains rising above and beyond. We found a bough house in good
repair, also a dug-out and paddle and several floats of logs. In the
dug-out I was soon creeping along the shady side of the lake, where the
trout were incessantly jumping for a species of black fly, that,
sheltered from the slight breeze, were dancing in swarms just above the
surface of the water. The gnats were there in swarms also, and did
their best toward balancing the accounts by preying upon me while I
preyed upon the trout which preyed upon the flies. But by dint of
keeping my hands, face, and neck constantly wet, I am convinced that
the balance of blood was on my side. The trout jumped most within a
foot or two of shore, where the water was only a few inches deep. The