Our ascent was soon over, and striking into a small tortuous deer-path, we perceived below us the transparent sheet of water, in which a few stars already reflected their pale and tremulous light.

When we reached the shore of the lake, we found ourselves surrounded by vast and noble ruins, like those on the Buona Ventura, but certainly much more romantic.

Gabriel welcomed us to his trapping-ground, as a lord in his domain, and soon brought out a neat little canoe from under a kind of ancient vault.
"This canoe," said he, "once belonged to one of the poor fellows that was murdered with the Prince Seravalle.

We brought it here six years ago with great secrecy; it cost him twenty dollars, a rifle, and six blankets.

Now, in the middle of this lake there is an island, where he and I lived together, and where we can remain for months without any fear of Indians or starvation." We all three entered the canoe, leaving our saddles behind us, to recover them on the following day.