lay that way. Par to the south another bay reached out 

 toward Seagull, and westward, beyond a little round 

 island that stood sentinel at its entrance, a bay led the 

 international boundary on and on till it faded away 

 in the distance. 



Untouched by the hands of man the virgin forests 

 seemed to cast a magic spell over the place. All was 

 so still that one involuntarily talked in whispers if one 

 talked at all. A veil of utter peace seemed to be 

 spread over the land and one seemed to feel the spirit 

 of that three thousand miles of unfortified boundary 

 line that had lain between two peaceful nations, un- 

 disputed for a hundred years. There was enough to 

 explore in that one lake to keep a camper lazily busy 

 for several weeks. It was truly a canoeist's paradise. 



We paddled shyly around a few of those rocky islets, 

 dreamed of another trip when we could stay awhile, 

 and sadly turned our canoe toward home. It was a 

 hard place to leave, but our time was growing short, 

 our grub was almost gone and the clouds began to 

 gather once more. We picked up our little camp after 

 lunch and made our way slowly up the Granite River 

 with many a backward look. 



It was hard work going up that river with the cur- 

 rent and the wind both against us. There were no 

 nice little rapids to run and the rocky portages were 

 much better adapted to a goat than to a tired man with 

 a pack on his back. At last we gained the north end 

 of Maraboeuf and struck out on an open course. The 

 south end of Maraboeuf wlie?-e the river winds its 



23 



