IN THE NORTH COUNTRY 



bend is a reedy stretch where the cattle seek im- 

 munity from persecuting flies and rest and rumi- 

 nate in the cool, grateful shade. 



But here and there in this same gleeful river 

 we see dark, silent pools with thread-like cur- 

 rents running through their black waters, and 

 suggestions of mystery and treachery and peril 

 even in their quiet. 



No boats save the frail barks launched by little 

 children attempt to struggle with the uneven 

 stream before us ; but down below, at the meeting 

 of the waters, it grows calmer and clearer, and 

 there the musical dipping of oars may be heard 

 keeping time to the plaintive strains of Canadian 

 boat-songs. 



Where the pines and the birches part on be- 

 yond you may get a glimpse of the noble St. Law- 

 rence. To-day skies are fair and winds are propi- 

 tious and the river flows on in its calm majesty, 

 but it is not always thus. There are times when 

 tempest and storm rend its mighty heart and aw- 

 ful darkness broods over its deeps; yet now, as 

 then, it breathes only of things unfathomable, of 

 mysteries inscrutable, and in the names by which 

 the sentinel capes of one of its tributaries are 



[22 5 ] 



