CHAP. vii. COLD-WATER RIVER FALLS. 119 



We reached the Cold-water Eiver again late in the 

 afternoon, and found the height of the cascades, which 

 the portage avoids, to be 183 feet. They are very much 

 broken and hidden by the foliage of trees, which, in the 

 sheltered ravine through which the river flows, grow to 

 a large size, but are composed almost exclusively of spruce 

 and birch. 



The river itself is sixty feet broad, and very much 

 choked with fallen timber, through which we had to cut 

 our way with the axe. It is the most gloomy stream on 

 which I have ever floated in a canoe. The waters are 

 black and sluggish, and high purple rocks rise perpendi- 

 cularly from it. No ray of sunlight can penetrate part of 

 the Gorge in which it flows, and the narrow flats which 

 occur at intervals are thickly clothed with trees. Otter 

 traps, belonging to Bartelmi, are numerous on its banks ; 

 but the transition from the beautiful beaver meadow 

 above to this damp and gloomy defile, is like the sudden 

 change from a bright and breezy day in spring to the 

 dispiriting damp and heaviness of a November afternoon. 

 But these frowning rocks, this black and almost noisome 

 river, slowly winding and creeping along, half choked 

 with trees, and accumulating a scum on its surface at 

 every little jam, this can't last long, surely : ' Listen, 

 Pierre ! - - what 's that ? ' 



Pierre pointed with his paddle to a small mass of 

 froth floating slowly past us, then to another, and 

 another, uttering at the same time the monosyllable, 

 ' Falls.' 



In two minutes we turned another point, and the 

 roar of the falls came loud upon the ear ; the froth 



