among the vegetables everywhere we looked. Thou- 

 sands of them, and all in bloom. 



We Avould have enjoyed a longer visit, but the lake 

 was long and the treetops were beginning to stir un- 

 easily in the rising breeze. We had no more than poked 

 the nose of our canoe out of George 's shallow little bay 

 than the change was apparent. The breeze took the 

 headway off the canoe and the great lake heaved angri- 

 ly. In a few minutes we were fighting a stiff wind 

 and an angry sea. Five miles of steady grind and we 

 stopped for lunch at the Indian mission site, the Hud- 

 son Bay Company's trading post, about a mile from 

 the West end of the Canadian shore. It was deserted 

 then and the shacks were empty, but the Indians still 

 live there part of the year and bring their furs there 

 to trade in the winter. 



Just beyond there we paddled past a narrow opening 

 crossed by a high railroad trestle still intact. Our 

 course lay that way, but we went a quarter mile be- 

 yond to the "other cabin" of George's to cache some 

 grub for the return trip. Some "slackers" hiding in 

 the great north woods had almost cleaned George out 

 a short time before and the sign he had on the door 

 was to the point "Look out for self shoot. I kill you. 

 I report you to Washington." We left our surplus 

 grub and paddled back for the high trestle. 



We paddled under the trestle, along with the na- 

 tional boundary and were in Magnetic lake. It was a 

 pretty little lake with a number of rather long bays 

 and no exact means of telling which was the "right" 

 one. After one or two false starts we struck it and 

 were off down the Granite river. It deserved its name 



14 



