WAPITI-RUNNING ON THE PLAINS 93 



Tommy-cods, as they occasionally do on the St. 

 Lawrence, through a hole in the ice, with a nice little 

 hut built over it, and a nice little stove inside, why 

 things are quite different. 



I cannot say that fishing through the ice under 

 ordinary circumstances is very exciting sport, but 

 there is something comical about it, and it affords 

 a certain amount of innocent enjoyment. When 

 I rejoined my pals that evening, I could not forbear 

 laughing at the peculiar appearance of the winter 

 trout-fisher as represented by a staid, respectable 

 member of society, who looked as if he ought to be 

 engaged in some learned or scientific pursuit or 

 dressed in good broadcloth, and poring over his 

 books in some well-filled library. His costume was 

 remarkable. His feet were protected by volumi- 

 nous moccasins stuffed with many woollen socks ; 

 his legs encased in dingy and somewhat greasy 

 corduroys ; his body in an ancient, blood-stained, 

 weather-beaten jacket, with two or three pieces of 

 old sacking or gunny bags hung on the shoulders, 

 and strapped round the waist to keep off the wind ; 

 an ordinary deerstalking cap, with pieces filched 

 from a buffalo robe sewn on the ear-flaps, pulled 

 over the brows and tied under the chin, and a long 

 and tattered woollen muffler wound round and 



