The Land of the Winanishe 



can be called early we met at the rail- 

 way station at Quebec. The first fifty 

 miles of the road sweeps off to the west 

 through a fairly settled farming country. 

 As there is nothing of especial interest 

 without, we turn to that solace of the 

 traveller, the time-table and map. 



All roads led to Rome, all new railways 

 run to the " Sportsman's Paradise/' As 

 he reads the old familiar tale, our reac- 

 tionist --who envies the Jesuits because 

 they got here before him, and died before 

 railways were known says something 

 about " beholding heaven and feeling 

 hell " and " sportsmen's curse." But per- 

 haps he means the mosquitoes, black flies, 

 and sandflies ; they are plentiful. So are 

 trout, and big ones too in due place 

 and season. The prospectus, however, is 

 judiciously reticent as to these details, leav- 

 ing the stranger to learn them for himself, 

 along with colloquial French and the ways 

 of Indian guides. 



But what an epitome of Canadian his- 

 tory is this little list of stations ! Here 

 and there an Indian name survives, telling 

 of the original inhabitants. Valcartier, 

 Roberval, and Stadacona carry us back to 

 the first bold but fruitless attempt of the 

 sixteenth century, while Hebertville is a 



43 



