"
We drifted leisurely down the left hand channel, and entered the
Rackett, bidding good-bye to the beautiful lake as a bend in the river
hid it from our view. A mile below the junction, the river runs square
against a precipice some sixty feet in height, wheeling off at a right
angle, and stretching away though a natural meadow on either hand, of
hundreds of acres in extent. At the base of this precipice, formed by
the rocky point of a hill, the water is of unknown depth. Above, and
fifty feet from the surface of the river, there are ledges of a foot
or two in width, like shelves, along which the fox, the fisher, and
possibly the panther, creep, instead of travelling over the high ridge
extending back into the forest. As we rounded a point which brought us
in view of this precipice, Spalding, who was in the forward boat,
discovered a black object making its way along the face of the rocks.
A signal for silence was given, and the boats were permitted to float
with the current in the direction of the precipice. We were forty rods
distant, and the animal, whatever it was, had no suspicion of danger.
It paused midway across the rocks, looked about, nosing out over the
water, and sat down upon its haunches, as if enjoying the beauty of
the scenery around it. In the meantime, the boats had drifted within
twenty rods, and Spalding, taking deliberate aim, fired.
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