q8o 



Among the Thousand Islands. 



THE DEVIL'S OVEN. 



sustenance to a few gaunt cedars, and its sides perforated by an 

 almost circular opening which at a distance does bear some resem- 

 blance to a gigantic baker's oven. 



The upper extremity of Carleton's Island, some twenty-eight 

 miles above Alexandria Bay, narrows into a contracted promontory 

 of land ending in an abrupt bluff fifty or sixty feet high. Here, 

 perched aloft, perceptible to all passers-by along the river, and 

 distinctly visible for miles around, stand a number of toppling and 

 half-ruined chimneys. Like so many sentinels standing solemn- 

 faced, waiting for the blessed time of rest that will relieve them from 

 duty, they watch over the ruins of an old French fort, so old that its 

 history has been lost in the mists of the past. Attracted by that 

 romantic glamour that hangs in the very air of the antiquated and 

 dilapidated ruin, we were induced to pay it a visit, to the mild 

 wonder of the natives, who seemed to look upon the artist as a 

 species of harmless lunatic. So interested were we with the time- 

 worn remains that a brief visit developed into a three days' stay. 



The early history of the place is almost entirely lost, insomuch 

 that it is supposed by some to be the ruin of old Fort Frontenac. It 

 was, so far as existing data go to prove, commanded by the French 

 about the year 1 760 ; then fell into the hands of the English with the 



