PRESQUE ISLE—CIVILIZATION IN FOCUS.
“If we are going to make forty-five miles to Caribou to day, we must make hay while the sun shines,—or while it doesn’t shine,” he added, as he took notice of the darkness.
Soon we were gliding down the swift stream, avoiding the huge rocks dimly appearing through the mist, until at last the rising sun dispelled the darkness.
At Presque Isle we landed, and while the guides were preparing dinner, I climbed a neighboring hill with my Tourograph and secured a picture of the scene.
Hour after hour we labored at the paddles, until they seemed almost a part of ourselves; the “shoes” on our canoes retarded us not a little.
The sun was creeping down the western sky, and the tall pines on the bluffs above us threw their lengthening shadows across the stream, as doubling the last bend we shot the canoes along side the wharf at Caribou, and completed our tour of over four hundred miles from Moosehead Lake to the Aroostook River.
Here we took the cars.[B]
[B]Since this canoe tour was completed the railroad has been extended to the town of Presque Isle, at which point tourists can leave the Aroostook River, saving themselves a tedious paddle of about twenty-two miles to Caribou.
A delegation of the “big people” of the vicinity saw us off.
