There is no scenery in the bush that presents such a novel appearance as those meadows, or openings, surrounded as they invariably are, by dark, intricate forests; their high, rugged banks covered with the light, airy tamarack and silver birch.  In summer they look like a lake of soft, rich verdure, hidden in the bosom of the barren and howling waste.  Lakes they certainly have been, from which the waters have receded, “ages, ages long ago”; and still the whole length of these curious level valleys is traversed by a stream, of no inconsiderable dimensions.

The waters of the narrow, rapid creek, which flowed through the meadow we were about to cross, were of sparkling brightness, and icy cold.  The frost-king had no power to check their swift, dancing movements, or stop their perpetual song.  On they leaped, sparkling and flashing beneath their ice-crowned banks, rejoicing as they revelled on in their lonely course.  In the prime of the year, this is a wild and lovely spot, the grass is of the richest green, and the flowers of the most gorgeous dyes.  The gayest butterflies float above them upon painted wings; and the whip-poor-will pours forth from the neighbouring woods, at close of dewy eve, his strange but sadly plaintive cry.  Winter was now upon the earth, and the once green meadow looked like a small forest lake covered with snow.

The first step we made into it plunged us up to the knees in the snow, which was drifted to a great height in the open space.  Mr. T—–­ and our young friend C—–­ walked on ahead of us, in order to break a track through the untrodden snow.  We soon reached the cold creek; but here a new difficulty presented itself.  It was too wide to jump across, and we could see no other way of passing to the other side.

“There must be some sort of a bridge here about,” said young C—–­, “or how can the people from Dummer pass constantly during the winter to and fro.  I will go along the bank, and halloo to you if I find one.”

In a few minutes he gave the desired signal, and on reaching the spot, we found a round, slippery log flung across the stream by way of bridge.  With some trouble, and after various slips, we got safely on the other side.  To wet our feet would have been to ensure their being frozen; and as it was, we were not without serious apprehension on that score.  After crossing the bleak, snowy plain, we scrambled over another brook, and entered the great swamp, which occupied two miles of our dreary road.

It would be vain to attempt giving any description of this tangled maze of closely-interwoven cedars, fallen trees, and loose-scattered masses of rock.  It seemed the fitting abode of wolves and bears, and every other unclean beast.  The fire had run through it during the summer, making the confusion doubly confused.  Now we stooped, half-doubled, to crawl under fallen branches that hung over our path, then again we had to clamber over prostrate trees of great