A TRIP TO THE LA VAL. 61 



CHAPTEE IY. 



A TEIP TO THE LA YAL. 



A BEAUTIFUL breeze was blowing down between the 

 grand old hills of the majestic Saguenay on that first 

 day of August when Walton and myself started from 

 L'Anse a 1'Eau in one of the oddly-shaped pilot-boats of 

 the St. Lawrence, for a visit to the Bon Homme la 

 Yal. The Bon Homme la Yal, a beautiful and roman- 

 tic stream that falls into the St. Lawrence about sixty 

 miles below the Saguenay, tradition asserts was named 

 by the pious Canadians in the early days of the country 

 after a beloved father confessor. But time and the 

 English, equally utilitarian, have contracted it into sim- 

 ply La Yal, and the origin of the name, together with 

 the piety that suggested it, is almost forgotten by the 

 present generation. The sun was shining brilliantly, and 

 the strong northwest wind curled the waves of the 

 ancient river, and crested them with foam ; the dark 

 waters surged in their falling tide; the stunted trees 

 shivered in the blast; while the granite hills were as 

 immovable as they had been mid storm and calm for 

 many thousand years ; but the pretty little village was 

 all astir with our departure. 



It is a fanciful place, with the white houses 

 perched in a nook between the Tifciter rocks, while the 



