At Last I Did Utterly
Lose The Track, It Had Become Quite Dark, So Dark That We Could
Hardly See Each Other.
We had succeeded in getting down the
steepest and worst part of the mountain, but we were still among
dense forest trees, and up to our knees in mud.
But the people at
the Mountain house were Christians, and men with lanterns were sent
hallooing after us through the dark night. When we were thus found
we were not many yards from the path, but unfortunately on the
wrong side of a stream. Through that we waded, and then made our
way in safety to the inn. In spite of which misadventure I advise
all travelers in Lower Canada to go up the Owl's Head.
On the following day we crossed the lake to Georgeville, and drove
around another lake called the Massawhippi back to Sherbrooke.
This was all very well, for it showed us a part of the country
which is comparatively well tilled, and has been long settled; but
the Massawhippi itself is not worth a visit. The route by which we
returned occupies a longer time than the other, and is more costly,
as it must be made in a hired vehicle. The people here are quiet,
orderly, and I should say a little slow. It is manifest that a
strong feeling against the Northern States has lately sprung up.
This is much to be deprecated, but I cannot but say that it is
natural.
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