OLD MURRAY BAY 



Cruising was a sport within the reach of 

 a youngster's pocket. Ten of us once char- 

 tered a well-found schooner, with two men 

 and a boy; fished half a dozen of the best 

 salmon and sea trout rivers on this side of 

 Pointe des Monts; had our fill of good sail- 

 ing for nearly a fortnight, and, as the log 

 shows, shared up an expense of $7.20 a day! 



Both shores lack safe and comfortable 

 harbours; when caught by an up or down 

 river blow you may have to run a long way 

 for shelter. We were working home from 

 Ste. Anne des Monts, where the width of 

 the St. Lawrence is above forty miles, in a 

 very ancient pilot boat. Early in the after- 

 noon the light breeze died away, leaving 

 the slow tide to carry us upward within a 

 hundred yards of that iron-bound coast. 

 The water cask needed replenishing, and 

 the tinkle of a brook enticed us to explore 

 a cleft in the uniform barrier of the ledges. 

 There was good depth almost to the end of 

 a curious natural harbour, perhaps forty 

 yards wide and a hundred yards long, the 

 sides sheer as dock walls, the seaward 

 rocks of the whitest quartz. Through the 

 rest of the hot day we drifted on, humouring 

 the light shifting airs to gain a few miles, 

 looking with uneasy eyes at the dull bank 

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