They hailed us gaily, and rowed ashore to show us what
fine booty they had. No disappointment there, no dull work. On the
beautiful point of land from which we first saw them, lived a contented
woman, the only one I heard of out there. She was English, and said she
had seen so much suffering in her own country that the hardships of this
seemed as nothing to her. But the others--even our sweet and gentle
hostess--found their labors disproportioned to their strength, if not
to their patience; and, while their husbands and brothers enjoyed the
country in hunting or fishing, they found themselves confined to a
comfortless and laborious indoor life. But it need not be so long.
This afternoon, driving about on the banks of these lakes, we found the
scene all of one kind of loveliness; wide, graceful woods, and then
these fine sheets of water, with fine points of land jutting out boldly
into them. It was lovely, but not striking or peculiar.
All woods suggest pictures. The European forest, with its long glades
and green sunny dells, naturally suggested the figures of armed knight
on his proud steed, or maiden, decked in gold and pearl, pricking along
them on a snow white palfrey. The green dells, of weary Palmer sleeping
there beside the spring with his head upon his wallet. Our minds,
familiar with such figures, people with them the New England woods,
wherever the sunlight falls down a longer than usual cart-track,
wherever a cleared spot has lain still enough for the trees to look
friendly, with their exposed sides cultivated by the light, and the
grass to look velvet warm, and be embroidered with flowers.
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