236 CANADIAN NIGHTS 



pines, glimmering on the ragged bark and creamy 

 stems of birch-trees, casting the river fringe of 

 alders into deepest gloom, tracing bands of silver 

 across still reaches of the stream, dancing and 

 flickering on the rapids, glittering like diamonds on 

 frozen raindrops clinging to the stiffening blades 

 of grass, half revealing strange mysterious forms, 

 dimly unveiling misty distances, and shedding a 

 peaceful softened lustre over the v^hole scene. 

 The night was still. Silence settled down upon 

 the earth with the sinking sun — a silence broken 

 now and then by the plunge of an otter, the hoot 

 of an owl, the rise of some startled wild fowl from 

 the sedge, or the snapping of a dead stick under 

 the light footfall of some beast of the forest, dis- 

 turbed by the occasional splash of the steersman's 

 paddle. So, drinking in the beauties of the night, 

 we drifted quietly on till the quickening current 

 warned us to concentrate all our thoughts upon 

 our own safety. The moonlight was so bright, 

 and objects were so distinctly visible as long as 

 we were in still water, that we anticipated but 

 little difficulty in running the rapids, which are 

 not the least dangerous by day ; but as soon as 

 we got among them the difference between the 

 light of even a cloudy day and the clearest night 



