LETTER XVII. 187 



you. But, my dear, youare not married yet, so what 

 do you want with houses ? Let me take you out 

 for a picnic instead, and show you the prettiest 

 side of British Columbian life. It is to be a 

 boating picnic up one of the ' arms ' (water-ways) 

 which run up from the Straits into the interior 

 of the island. Some of our male friends are 

 coming to row us up to camp and shoot whilst 

 we sketch and prepare a meal of some sort. 

 Almost as soon as we leave the wharf, the men 

 get out their ' spoons ' and let them spin behind 

 the boats as we row slowly up the arm, whose 

 still waters gleam unbroken save for the rise of 

 trout or salmon, or the trail of some duck which 

 scuttles away over the surface as we approach. 

 Here and there bits of red rock crop up on either 

 bank, and on either bank the forest of pine and 

 cedar rises gently from the water's edge. 



An enormous number of salmon is caught in 

 these waters every year ; but on the day of 

 which I am thinking we caught nothing (save 

 ' crabs ') until lunch-time. The men had left us 

 on landing, and we could hear their guns from 

 time to time in the distance. Tired of doing 

 nothing, and incited to effort by the constant 

 rises of two or three salmon in the little bay in 

 which we were, my friend and I took to the boat 

 again and fished hard for a quarter of an hour. 



