Mailed a short note to Dad at Long Lake. I wonder why I haven't heard from a certain person? Imagine it must be on account of the leisurely way they sort the mails in this happy-go-lucky country. We laid around waiting for the Blue Mountain mail until 11:30, hoping to get some forwarded matter from Raquette. It took the Postmaster and his assistant until 12:30 to sort and stamp a fistful of letters,- and then there was nothing for either of us.

Met three fellows in a guide-boat who had come over from Seventh via Raquette. Forked, and the upper Raquette river, and said they expected to reach Seventh via South Pond and Blue Mountain Lake that night. They'll have to hump themselves to do it, I'm thinking, with only one fellow working at a time. They were much interested in our duffle-packs,- which by the way, carry better and better every day,- and we timed ourselves packing this morning, and it took just thirty minutes from the time we struck tents.

Left Long Lake at 12:30 and took the north-west shore,- to our sorrow. It was a repetition of our experience on Utowana, only worse. Long Lake runs due north-east, and a southwest by south wind whipped up white-caps all over the lake, and swells off every point of the fifteen miles of water. Several times we just weathered the swells, landing once to rest, and another time to carry across a narrow strip of sand jutting far out into the lake near a group of islands above five miles down from the village.