Having taken copious and refreshing draughts from the bright waters, and bathed their hands and faces, they ascended the grassy bank, and again descending, found themselves in one of those long valleys, enclosed between lofty sloping banks, clothed with shrubs and oaks, with here and there a stately pine.

Through this second valley they pursued their way, till emerging into a wider space, they came among those singularly picturesque groups of rounded gravel hills, where the Cold Creek once more met their view, winding its way towards a grove of evergreens, where it was again lost to the eye.
This lovely spot is now known as Sackville's Mill-dike.

The hand of man has curbed the free course of the wild forest stream, and made it subservient to his will, but could not destroy the natural beauties of the scene.

_[FN: This place was originally owned by a man of taste, who resided for some time upon the spot, till finding it convenient to return to his native country, the saw-mill passed into other hands.

The old log-house on the green bank above the mill-stream is still standing, though deserted; the garden fence, broken and dilapidated, no longer protects the enclosure, where the wild rose mingles with that of Provence,--the Canadian creeper with the hop.]_ Fearing to entangle themselves in the swamp, they kept the hilly ground, winding their way up to the summit of the lofty ridge of the oak hills, the highest ground they had yet attained; and here it was that the silver waters of the Rice Lake in all its beauty burst upon the eyes of the wondering and delighted travellers.