Identified with this boat is an eccentric man, named “Old Dick,” who amuses the tourist, and collects an occasional shilling by exhibiting a number of rattlesnakes. When, in addition to all these things, it is remembered that Horicon is the centre of a region made classic by the exploits of civilized and savage warfare, it can safely be pronounced one of the most interesting portions of our country for the summer tourist to visit. I have looked upon it from many a peak, whence might be seen almost every rood of its shore. I have sailed into every one of its bays; and, like the pearl-diver, have repeatedly descended into its cold blue chambers; so that I have learned to love it as a faithful and well-tried friend. Since the day of my arrival here, I have kept a journal of my adventures; and, as a memorial of Horicon, I will extract therefrom and embody in this chapter the following passages.
Six pencil sketches have I executed upon the Lake to-day. One of them was a view of the distant mountains, whose various outlines were concentrated at one point, and whose colour was of that delicate dreamy blue, created by a sunlight atmosphere, with the sun directly in front. In the middle distance was a flock of islands, with a sail boat in their midst, and in the foreground a cluster of rocks, surmounted by a single cedar, which seemed to be the sentinel of a fortress. Another was of the ruins of Fort George, with a background of dark green mountains, which was made quite desolate by a flock of sheep sleeping in one of its shady moats. Another was of a rowing race between two rival fishermen, at the time when they were only a dozen rods from the goal, and when every nerve of their aged frames was strained to the utmost. Another was of a neat log-cabin on a quiet lawn near the water, at whose threshold a couple of ragged but beautiful children were playing with a large dog, while from the chimney of the house ascended the blue smoke with a thousand fantastic evolutions. Another was of a huge pine tree, which towered conspicuously above its kindred on the mountain side, and seemed to me an appropriate symbol of Webster in the midst of a vast concourse of his fellow-men. And the last was of a thunder-storm, driven away from a mountain top by the mild radiance of a rainbow, which partly encircled Horicon in a loving embrace.