162 THE LOWER ST. LAWRENCE. 



saw ! The salmon that ever snaps that rod deserves to be 

 drawn, split, quartered, sliced, and buttered, and his remains 

 served up at the St. Louis Hotel to a table of famished sports- 

 men as a warning to all salmon for generations to come. 



"Within a few hours' drive of the city are numerous beau- 

 tiful lakes Lake Beauport, St. Charles, St. Joseph, Lac a 

 la Truite, Lac Blanc, Lac Vincent, and a dozen others, 

 which the guide-books say abound in trout. In Lake Beau- 

 port I once caught three after a couple of hours persistent 

 fishing ; but then the water was smooth as a mirror, and the 

 rower a blunderhead boy who frightened all the fish. In other 

 lakes I have had little better success. Still there are trout 

 in them, and withal they are very pleasant places of summer 

 resort, where one may find abundant refreshment for man 

 and beast, and drink champagne or ale under the shade of 

 spreading trees. 



The salmon river nearest Quebec of any importance is the 

 Jacques Cartier, once famous for the number of its fish, but 

 now somewhat depleted. Its waters, however, abound in mag- 

 nificent trout. A drive of twenty-five miles from town will 

 carry you beyond the settlements and set you down beside 

 its banks about forty miles above its mouth. Here we have 

 a birch-canoe of our own. Taking with us a well-tried voy- 

 ageur we will complete our outfit and enjoy a few days 

 cruise up and down the river. In a hamper that holds two 

 bushels or more, we place our provisions, utensils and camp- 

 stuff, and, loading the canoe, launch forth upon the tide. 

 We smatter some French, and Pierre bad English. There is 

 an old camp a few miles up stream with excellent trout-fishing 

 in the vicinity. We propose to pass a couple of nights 

 there, and then go down the river for salmon. 



"Pierre?" 



" Messieu." 



" Jusqu'on a le camp a haut ? " 



" No understand." 



" I say, how far pshaw ! quelle distance a le camp ?" 



