A BIRCH-BARK CANOE TRIP 229 



hundred yards and was again made fast. Gentle reader, the writer 

 also heard other stories far more wonderful, but he will not rehearse 

 them, as he wishes to gain confidence and esteem, and fears to provoke 

 such criticism as he once overheard of a brother angler : ' How 

 strange that men who in other relations of life are truthful in speech 

 and trustworthy in character, will lie with audacious hardihood 

 about fish '. 



With a sigh of regret the salmon tackle was put away and a 

 Hardy trout rod got ready. What a toy-like thing it seemed after 

 the ponderous sixteen-feet salmon rod. We took a long, lingering 

 look behind at the brown backs in Falls' Pool, and regretting for 

 their sake, and our own, that the power was denied them of accom- 

 panying us in our progress through the upper river, bade them 

 a sad adieu. Our various packages have been skilfully stowed in 

 the canoe, that surprised us by its capaciousness ; the canvas 

 tent is spread as a covering over the cargo ; the senior Indian 

 Joe takes his station at the stern ; gun in hand, I recline as com- 

 fortably as circumstances admit of on the motley baggage ; two 

 pairs of muscular arms are impelling us up the swift current. 

 Onward ! Each turn of the river is to open up to us a new wonder- 

 land ! With enthusiasm thought flies ahead to the upper reaches 

 before us, to the fabulous trout that haunt the upper pools ; to 

 the bears and moose and caribou Heaven help them that may 

 wander within reach of our rifle. 



Without one sigh of regret, we reflect that we are rapidly leaving 

 civilization and its cares behind us. In exchange, Nature is steep- 

 ing our whole being in her gladness and freshness. The west wind 

 is wafting to us from the woods the resinous scents and odours of 

 wild flowers. The glorious sun is touching all things with heavenly 

 alchemy. 



Can we dream of wars and carnage, 

 Craft and madness, lust and spite* ; 



Roaring London, raving Paris, 

 In this point of peaceful light ? 



Good-bye to cities ! My only society for the next few weeks 

 is to be found in two or three favourite volumes, the companion- 

 ship of my two men, and most of all, in the open book of Nature 

 that I have turned at such ah inviting page. 



Let me take this opportunity of pausing to sketch my hench- 

 man Joe. The other man is nothing more than a muscular piece 

 of mechanism without any traits worth mention. But Joe is 

 interesting. After the day's toils and excitements are over, and 

 as he is enjoying his pipe before the glowing coals of a hardwood 



