IN A FISHING COUNTRY 



sidence. The St. Lawrence ran white to 

 Tadousac for the space of three months. 

 Mountains were engulfed and islands arose. 

 The forests bowed themselves and lakes 

 went dry. Les Eboulements won the name 

 of menace that it bears. The Jesuit Fathers 

 tell us how that opposite Trois Rivieres 

 those voiceless creatures the white whales 

 filled the air with piteous sound. In later 

 years there followed other shocks, and insig- 

 nificant ones are not at all uncommon even 

 now. 



The casual visitor, adventuring no farther 

 than the golf links, expends a mild wonder 

 upon the odd mounds and ridges he is in- 

 vited to play round or over. They have 

 been laid to the swirling of mighty tides 

 when the Murray valley was a narrow- 

 mouthed deep fiord, and again to the hand 

 of man. The late Sir Daniel Wilson held 

 the latter opinion because of their symmetry 

 and disposition, and dug into one or more 

 in search of Indian remains, but found only 

 glacial till and boulders. Very clearly they 

 are relics of the latest ice-age, after the final 

 uplift of the land; belonging, geologi- 

 cally, to the hour whose striking still echoes 

 in our ears. When the 'Ridge' was the 

 beach-line, an expiring glacier unloaded 

 14 



