told us of an English lady, an artist, who had traversed this region with a single guide, making sketches. Our packs unslung and the kettle over, our first move was to ascertain in what state of preservation a certain dug-out might be, which, the guide averred, he had left moored in the vicinity the summer before,--for upon this hypothetical dug-out our hopes of venison rested. After a little searching it was found under the top of a fallen hemlock, but in a sorry condition. A large piece had been split out of one end, and a fearful chink was visible nearly to the water-line. Freed from the tree top, however, and calked with a little moss, it floated with two aboard, which was quite enough for our purpose. A jack and an oar were necessary to complete the arrangement, and before the sun had set our professor of wood-craft had both in readiness. From a young yellow birch, an oar took shape with marvelous rapidity--trimmed and smoothed with a neatness almost fastidious,--no make-shift, but an instrument fitted for the delicate work it was to perform. A jack was made with equal skill and speed. A stout staff about three feet long was placed upright in the bow of the boat, and held to its place by a horizontal bar, through a hole in which it turned easily: a half wheel eight or ten inches in diameter, cut from a large chip, was placed at the top, around which was bent a new section of birch bark, thus forming a rude semicircular reflector. Three candles placed within the circle completed the jack. With moss and boughs seats were arranged--one in the bow for the marksman, and one in the stern for the oarsman. A meal of frogs and squirrels was a good preparation, and when darkness came, all were keenly alive to the opportunity it brought. Though by no means an expert in the use of the gun,--adding the superlative degree of enthusiasm to only the positive degree of skill,--yet it seemed tacitly agreed that I should act as marksman, and kill the deer, if such was to be our luck.