Just as we thought we were wrong again for sure, we saw the "short-cut trail" and boat landing to Middle Saranac we had noticed on the south as we came down, and but a few moments later emerged into the lake itself, just as the moon got over the tops of the trees. She did not help us much, however, as she was behind us.

Our lantern hanging over the bow was our only guide by way of light. We crossed Middle Saranac at a gallop, in the face of a gentle wind from the west, and located the river by the clouds of mist arising from it. Just as we entered the inlet, a large fish jumped at the lantern and struck my paddle with a thud, dropping back into the water with such a splash that Fritz thought I had gone overboard. The dam and carry was reached at 10:20. When we first started to carry we found we were chilled to the bone by the mist, and the ponchoes were soaked as if by a heavy rain.

The walk, however, warmed us up, and at eleven thirty we located our camping-place,- having passed it once without noticing it in the fog. We pitched camp in the quickest time ever and in ten minutes had our tent up on the old pegs, bed made, and supper of chocolate and raisins eaten. Took a big dose of quinie and what little whiskey was left, and were in the land of dreams at midnight.

--Distance today,- 19 miles.