Not having had much experience in the wilderness at this time, and never under such peculiar circumstances, I felt somewhat timid and apprehensive, as we were far from relief and the abodes of civilization, and in a region where bears, wolves, and a dangerous specimen of the feline species, known by woodsmen as the "Indian devil," had prowled from time immemorial. From the manner in which my exiled companions piled the brush on the fire, I suspected, also, that they had some confidence in its protective power. The night was cold, but by our exertions to keep up a brilliant fire, and copious draughts of black pepper tea, which we made in a little kettle, we kept quite comfortable. This process lasted until two o'clock in the morning, when the boat returned for us, having twice crossed the lake, in all twelve miles. We stepped on board, and at four o'clock her third trip across during the night was finished. One half mile from the shore, surrounded by an almost unbroken wilderness, stood a log cabin, tenanted by a man with his family, who had settled down for the purpose of clearing up a farm. At the time we landed the sky was overcast with dense clouds, and the darkness was so intense that I could not see an inch before my nose; I felt the force of that trite old proverb, "It's always darkest just before day." To the above-named cabin we were piloted through a dense forest, which was interlaced with a thick growth of underbrush. We made our way along as entirely unassisted by vision as though there were no such thing. By the aid of a constant hallooing, which was kept up at the log cabin, we made a direct course; and, after an untold number of stumbles over old wind-falls, and jibes from the limbs, knots, and protruding boughs of trees, we reached the object of our solicitude hungry and much fatigued. Here, however, the hospitable inmates had anticipated our wants; a good meal of bread, baked beans, and pork, with coffee, was in waiting; and after heartily participating of the same, we threw ourselves upon a coarse bed, and were soon lost in a profound and undisturbed sleep. When we awoke the shades of night had entirely disappeared, the sun shone beautifully, and our ears were saluted with the wild notes of a thousand feathered songsters, whose sweet warblings lent a peculiar enchantment to the woodland scenery which skirted the shores of the lake, so strikingly in contrast with our dismal introduction the night previous, that we almost fancied ourselves awaking up in some fairy land. CHAPTER III.