112 CANADIAN NIGHTS 



afternoon. We drew up our canoes at one of the 

 prettiest spots for a camp I have ever seen. It 

 lay beside a little sheltered secluded bay at the 

 head of a lovely lake, some three or four miles in 

 length. The shores near us were covered with 

 '' hardwood " trees — birch, maple, and beech, in 

 their glorious autumn colours ; while the more 

 distant coasts were clothed with a sombre dark 

 mass of firs and spruce. Above the ordinary level 

 of the forest rose at intervals the ragged gaunt 

 form of some ancient and gigantic pine that had 

 escaped the notice of the lumberman, or had 

 proved unworthy of his axe. In front of us and 

 to the right, acting as a breakwater to our harbour, 

 lay a small island covered with hemlock and 

 tamarack trees, the latter leaning over in various 

 and most graceful angles, overhanging the water 

 to such an extent as sometimes to be almost 

 horizontal with it. Slightly to the left was a 

 shallow spot in the lake marked by a growth of 

 rushes, vividly green at the top, while the lower 

 halves were of a most brilliant scarlet, affording 

 the precise amount of warmth and bright colour- 

 ing that the picture required. It is extraordinary 

 how everything seems to turn to brilliant colours 

 in the autumn in these northern latitudes. The 



