236 SPORTING SKETCHES. 



hunter named Foster who cleared the patch of land and erected 

 his camp thereon. Tradition has it that he was drowned while 

 crossing Lake Megantic on the ice many years ago. 



Dinner was soon disposed of, and while Joe was engaged in 

 making our bough beds we started in different directions on an 

 exploring trip minus gun, for every man amongst us was an 

 upholder of the game laws and it lacked one day of the open 

 shooting season. At sunset we met at camp and discussed the 

 results of our explorations, deciding to divide up on the morrow 

 and try grouse and trout, Oh ! the pleasant memories of those 

 evenings in camp when, lying on our fragrant bough beds and 

 with pipes alight and the glowing camp fire in view, we recall 

 the trips of the past and live them over again in music, word, 

 song and thought. Our evenings, however are short, for, weary 

 with the day's tramping through the dense bush, by eight 

 o'clock all were soundly sleeping, and the forest silence prevailed 

 or should have prevailed, except for the occasional hoot of an 

 owl or the sonorous snore of B'rer Fox, or perhaps an exultant 

 shout from B'rer Wolf " I've got him, I've got him " followed by 

 a smothered remark from under the blanket in the corner which 

 sounds very much like " shut up and go to sleep." I was too 

 sleepy to be quite sure about it, but something to the point was 

 said. 



An early start meant breakfast at 4 a.m., and we accordingly 

 crawled out at that hour to find Joe doing his best to get the fire 

 started, the wood being pretty well saturated from the excessive 

 dew which bad fallen during the night. Breakfast over, 'the 

 fishermen, B'rers Wolf and Rabbit, left for the Arnold river, 

 given in the guide books of the Megantic Fish and Game Club as 

 teeming with trout, (I never use the expression "teeming" it 

 oughtn't to exist but the guide book says so) while B'rers 

 Fox and Coon called out their dogs and made for the forest. 

 Soon the merry reports " bang," " bang," were heard " Did you 

 get him ? " " Yes, Sir," " Good ! " and so on, until by noon seven 

 ruffed grouse were brought to bag and the nimrods returned 

 homewards. 



This is a splendid grouse country and grouse are abundant, 

 the great and only difficulty being in the fact that our dog a 

 Clumber Spaniel belonging to B'rer, Wolf, hunting mute, would 



