HO AMERICAN GAME FISHES. 



and a bit of quick paddling brings the shore close. The men 

 interchange a rapid glance. 



"Au large?" 



"Pas trap." 



The canoe turns out from shore again, to the horror of 

 any passenger making the run for the first time, but, before 

 he can remonstrate, tilts over the pitch where a pyramidal 

 rock backs up the water, swings end for end, and sidles into 

 an eddy just its own length, which has scooped out a hollow 

 in the bank within forty yards of the fall. 



"It is quite possible to drown one's self here," remarks 

 Pitre, as he takes his Monsieur's rod and coat for the walk 

 home. It is a point of honor, however, with these men, never 

 to risk a passenger's comfort, much less his safety. Any 

 recklessness or bungling would meet sharp criticism over 

 the camp-fire. They are cool and courageous in real 

 danger, however, and among themselves the rivalry is keen. 

 Nothing delights them more than to have a Monsieur who 

 can appreciate their points, and, not minding a few bucketfuls 

 of water, gives them once in a while a chance of display. 

 After all, the passenger has the best of guarantees in the fact 

 that very few of them can swim. I speak only of the pro- 

 fessional canoe-men of the Decharge. Some of the Indians 

 from Pointe Bleue, on Lake St. John, are good enough in 

 the canoe; but since the railway has brought tourists along, 

 many men seek employment who have no experience either 

 in such waters or of the niceties of the fishing. 



