70 A TRIP TO THE LA VAL. 
sudden bath. Here the water was comparatively smooth, 
and little was I prepared for the falls and rapids that 
were ere long to steady my nerves for anything, and prove 
what a canoe can do when it is well handled. 
While our head guide, with the musical taste that is 
inherent in the French nature, rang forth — 
*' Aimez-moi Nicolas," 
the paddles were being plied vigorously, and we shot 
into the narrow cleft that forms the bed of the La Yal. 
Straight up from the water's edge sprung the hills on 
each side, their grey rocks scarcely half covered with 
stunted spruce, pine and hemlock, and rarely leaving 
margin enough for underwood to grow upon the bank. 
The water, now limpid as crystal, poured down in an 
ever increasing current, and here and there boiled 
over a hidden rock. On we forced our way, a bald 
eagle the only contestant for our sole occupancy of the 
river, past the grey cliffs, the sombre trees, through dark 
pools, up rapid currents, by banks of clay greyer than 
the granite hills themselves. On, on, with steady exer- 
tions, at every moment ascending toward the source of 
the wild stream. The water became shoaler, the cur- 
rents stronger, and the rapids more rocky as we ad- 
vanced. 
Poling up the rapids was strange indeed. Imagine a 
torrent pouring, hissing and boiling down over rocks, 
where the foam glistened and the spray danced into the 
air, sweeping through narrow channels and leaping up 
and curling over in crested waves ; imagine a light, fra- 
