At Franklin Falls, on the Saranac, in the midst of the wildest mountain scenery, where a few years before a forest village had been destroyed by fire, we dined upon trout and venison, the common food of the wilderness, and then rode on toward the Lower Saranac Lake, at the foot of which we were destined to leave roads, and horses, and industrial pursuits behind, and live upon the solitary lake and river, and in the almost unbroken woods.

6 THE HUDSON.

The clouds were scattered early in the afternoon, but lay in heavy masses upon the summits of the deep blue mountains, and deprived us of the pleasure to be derived from distant views in the amphitheatre of everlasting hills through which we were journeying. Our road was over a high rolling country, fertile, and in process of rapid clearing. The loghouses of the settlers, and the cabins of the charcoal burners, were frequently seen ; and in a beautiful VitUey, watered by a branch of the Saranac, we passed througli a pleasant village called Bloomingdale. Toward evening we reached the sluggish outlet of the Saranac Lakes, and at a little before sunset our postilion reined up at Eaker's Inn, two miles from the Lower Lake, and fifty-one from Port Kent. To the lover and student of nature, the artist and the philosopher, the country through w^hich we had passed, and to which only brief allusion may here be made, is among the most inviting spots upon the globe, for magnificent and picturesqi,?"' ■• scenery, mineral wealth, and geological wonders, abound on every side. "'