Our cruise during the remainder of the afternoon was delightful. Here is the wildest scenery in the upper Potomac valley and there are few settlements. The locktenders were the only persons we saw for hours at a time and the locks were few. Likewise on this part of our run we passed no boats. We felt real neighborly toward the train crews on the Baltimore and Ohio and Western Maryland railroads when they condescended to look at us as they sped past. For miles, however, no railroad was in sight. * * * * * A COUNTRY store keeper at Little Orleans, who dealt in everything from women's "fashionable gowns" to fresh fish and from "near beer" to gasoline, enabled us to continue our voyage without delay. From him we purchased a supply of gasoline, oil and tobacco--three important items for the "engine room." When the motor is out of order the consumption of tobacco is particularly heavy. In the twilight we passed the village of Pearre and at dark drew up alongside the dock of the Woodmont Hunting and Fishing Club. Dinner was late this night but the weather was perfect and no fashionable restaurant could have offered more inviting surroundings for the diner with an appetite whetted by a day of toil in the great outdoors. We sat in the boat and used the dock for a table. And we would not have exchanged the privilege for the finest mahogany ever turned out! We were in Dixie now, sure enough. On the clubhouse porch up on the hill a party of young people were holding a dance which was enlivened by singing oldtime songs that recalled our presence in the beloved Southland. As two tired voyagers dropped off to slumber they heard the sweet strains of an inspiring melody that floated on the still night air far across the Potomac hills-- _For life and death, for woe and weal, Thy peerless chivalry reveal, And gird thy beauteous limbs with steel, Maryland, my Maryland!_ III. "THE HEART OF MARYLAND" is quite as elusive, geographically, as the phrase is trite. After being lulled to sleep at Woodmont by the old wartime song and awakened on a sunny morning by the carols of thrush and mockingbird, we felt that the enchanted land of romance in the old Cavalier commonwealth must indeed be near at hand. We made no haste to leave the hospitable dock at Woodmont. The day was ideal and our camera was chaffing under long idleness. I had passed this point a score of times on daylight trains of the Baltimore and Ohio railroad and longed for an opportunity to tarry here. On our voyage in "Sometub" we realized the oft-repeated wish and made the most of it.