Into this
sleeping apartment a door was cut from the parlor, large enough for a
man to pass by getting down on all-fours; while within was a plentiful
supply of boughs from the spruce and fir tree. In this hut, now so
dark, and in which the air was so dead and fetid, a solitary trapper
had wintered, pursuing his occupation of martin and sable hunting--the
which, if tolerably successful, would yield him some two or three
hundred dollars the season. He carried into the woods a bag of flour
or meal, a few pounds of pork, pepper, salt, and tea; and this, with
the game he killed, made up his supply of food. With no companion but
his dog, he had probably spent two or three months, and very possibly
more, in this lonely cabin.
We arrived at our camp towards evening, and dined sumptuously on fresh
venison and trout. Our pioneer had provided a luxurious bed of boughs
within, and had fashioned rude seats in front of our tents. He had
rolled the butt of a huge tree, which he had felled, to the proper
place, against which to kindle our camp-fire, and we had a pleasant
place to sit, with our pipes, in the evening, looking out over the
water, listening to the pile-drivers, half a dozen of which were
driving their stakes along the reedy shore, with commendable
diligence. The sunlight lay so beautifully on the hillsides, and
contrasted so admirably with the deep shadows of the valley beneath,
the lake was so calm and still, the old woods stood around so moveless
and solemn, that one could scarcely persuade himself that he was not
looking upon some gigantic picture, the fanciful grouping and
transcendent coloring of some ingenious and winning artist.
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