SPORTING SKETCHES. 245 



curious wall decorations, when accidentally looking out of the 

 window, I saw half a dozen "razor backs" at our boats, each 

 with a noble bird in its mouth. The alarm given, all jumped up 

 and out, but, alas ! too late, each hog cantered off carrying the 

 prime of our day's sport. 



BULL FROGS. 



BY A. J. P. 



Twenty years ago last summer, we drove out of Ottawa for a 

 day's sport, trout fishing. The road we had taken led us directly 

 to Meche's Lake, ending at the water's edge. By the kindness of 

 our hospitable host (Ward, of the Royal Victoria) we had been 

 loaned his boat and a good one it was. 



After putting up our horses at an adjacent farm, we retraced 

 our steps to the lake side ; here we shouted to the opposite shore, 

 (nearly a mile distant.) 



Hello! Hello-o-o-o! 



Presently you could distinguish the splash of oars as they 

 dipped in the liquid gold, the sun was hastening to hide itself 

 behind the surrounding mountains. The entrancing landscape 

 baffles all description. 



Placing our provisions and buffalo robes in the boat, the old 

 man (a jolly French songster) singing to the time of his oars, 

 rowed us swiftly along. 



Ah ! Ah ! I have a bite at my troll and soon landed a fine 

 black trout, weighing as nearly as we could judge, three pounds 

 and fifteen ounces. We could not say four pounds without fear 

 of exaggeration. 



Having been warned not to sleep in the boatman's hut, we 

 camped out for the night and although it was close and sultry 

 we were glad enough to pull the heavy buffalo over our heads to 

 keep the miriads of musical insects from their playful games. 



Breakfasting right early, our rods and lines in order, we made 

 our way to the lake's outlet, passing numerous miniature 



