OR, THE LAKE LANDS OF CANADA. 73 



portages, this beat them all! Through a bog, wet and 

 muddy, over logs, and through bushes, well interlaced, we 

 finally reached our resting-place on Rock Lake. We 

 found that the only place suitable for a camp was on a 

 rocky cliff, about thirty feet above the lake, not more than 

 twenty feet clear on the surface, and little or no wood, as 

 there had been a fire. The lake was alive with fish ; the 

 doctor tried them, but they would not bite. Wearied and 

 exhausted, we impatiently awaited the cooking of a pot of 

 beans ; and before they were half boiled, so great was our 

 hunger, we attacked the pot. 



We had to drive pegs in the crevices of the rock, and 

 in many instances were compelled to put stones as weights 

 on the canvas to keep the tent in place. We slept, 

 however, soundly. 



Sunday, October i. The night was stormy; thunder 

 and lightning with high winds. The guides' tent was blown 

 down on them, but they were so tired that they slept on 

 when they found that their lives were safe, although the 

 manner in which Bob prayed aloud would open the eyes 

 of any saint. The doctor and myself tried to irrfprove 

 on our bed of the previous night by knocking off some 

 of the sharp points of the rocks on which we slept. It 

 was truly the hardest and most uneven that we ever slept 

 on, and we prefer to be excused from a repetition ; so, as 

 we had to remain there another night, we tried to make 

 it at least smoother, if not softer. The doctor went out 

 and caught eleven large trout, and as the larder was bare, 

 it is no exaggeration to add that they were very acceptable 

 after yesterday's tramp and our sumptuous (?) supper. 



