SALMON RIVERS. 645 



Falls. Tied a half dozen small dark flies today, mostly of brown hen's 

 wing. 



Aittjust loth. — Up before the sun ; went down, killed one fish of 12 lbs., 

 and one Grilse, with the little "Brown Hen" — body black hurl — and then 

 could not stir another fin, though I could see many fish in the pools. I 

 am afraid my sport is done. Fishing the same pools every day has grown 

 to be" monotonous; there can be no fishing worth staying for, at all events, 

 unless there is another rise in the river. I am getting homesick, though 

 I am loth to leave this delightful camp. Our shanty presents a picturesque 

 appearance, with its rude table, benches, and kitchen utensils. Fifteen 

 Salmon split and stretched open with cedar slats, and hanging around to 

 catch the curing effects of wind, sun, and smoke, garnish the fi'ont of our 

 mansion ; and then the cool spring and delicious wild fruit. As for song- 

 birds, I never saw and heard so many ; amongst these are the Rain-crow 

 or American Cuckoo, my old friend the Robin, and a little fellow who fre- 

 quently serenades me, as he sits on a dead limb of the blighted old ash, by the 

 spring, with his " Chitchie! chitchie! chitchie-kewitchie!" in a sort of inter- 

 rogatory tone; as if he was asking me whether he could come nearer and pick 

 up some of the crumbs that Peter shakes from my ragged tablecloth ; and 

 yet another sweet singer, who says " Pea-pea-peabody ! peabody ! peabody !" 

 The early morning air is vocal with their songs. In the paths I frequently 

 meet young Rabbits, who cock their long ears backward and stare with 

 their big vacant eyes. Amongst the stones piled on the uphill side of our 

 shed, a half-dozen striped Ground Squirrels have their homes and little 

 families, and have grown quite sociable, no doubt attracted by rarities 

 more substantial than berries and green hazlenuts. 



About that little bird the " Peabody" there is a pretty story told by the 

 hahitans, as to how it got its name. They say it was thus : There was 

 once a great drouth, and from this and other causes, a great dearth of 

 food in the Province, and those who had to sell demanded such prices 

 that the poorer part of the population were almost reduced to starvation. 

 An old trader and merchant of Chatham, on the Mirimichi, however, by 

 some good luck or forecast, had laid up a cargo or two of flour, and, 

 instead of taking advantage of the necessities of the people, sold it at 

 ordinary prices, and sent it through the country to the most destitute. 

 Then this little bird, the words of whose song no one understood before, 

 sang the old man's praises around his house, and through the clearings 

 and forests, and along the banks of the rivers, ever repeating his name — 

 " Peabody \" " Peabody !" " Peabody !" 



